A/N: Sorry if this poem is hard to understand. The spacing is screwed up.
Chapter Eight
"Ed' I'ear ar'elenea!
Oio naa elealla alasse'
"Mereth en draugrim
Utinu en lokirim
"Tula sinome
Tula amin
Tula Silmatarurea
"Yallume Kwentra I'narn, Aiya, en Wethrinaer
"'Dina! Tira ten'rashwe! Ro naa belegohtar ar' curucuar
"'Asca Nurta!
Detholalle farnuva
Goth en mellon
Asca, Ndengina no
"'Yee! Aiya!
Quel esta
Quel Kaima
Tenna' tae lea lle au'.'"
(A/N: Translated:
"By the sea and stars
Ever is thy sight of joy
"Feast of wolves Son of snakes
"Come here
Come to me
Come to the Starlit woods
"'At last Tell the tale, Oh, of the Deceitfull one'
"'Be silent!
Be careful!
He is a mighty warrior and skillful bowman
"'Hurry! Hide!
Your choice will suffice
Foe of my friend
Hurry Kill him!
"'Eek! Oh!
Rest well
Sleep well
Until we meet again. . . '")
~~~
"Manke naa lle? (Where are you?)" Thranduil cried as night assended. He should have gotten a horse. Truly, he found it hard to believe he had traveled this far. Had he missed him in this darkness?
"Legolas, Cormile naa Tanya tel'raa (Your heart is that of a lion). . . stay strong. . ."
~~~
The fog was densening more and more by the minute. Soon, his eyes would be no more use to him; he might as well be blind. A blind else might as well be useless for he relied heavily on his senses.
He wondered if the guards were still out in this. Or if there was a search party for him as well. What frightened him the most was the dark creatures that were living in the woods. Not only were orcs scavenging around, but spiders and other beings he dare not dream of. Were these creatures a threat? Of course. Guards were constantly pushing them away from the city's borders. If only Mirkwood hadn't fallen under shadow. . . this problem most likely would not exist.
'Ah, so in the end, this is my doing,' the king thought to himself. 'My son, forgive me.'
Just as he thought this, he stumbled on something in his path. He grunted as he stumbled like a drunken man and swore the object moaned. Catching his balance, he knelt and reached out blindly to feel what it was.
The object met his searching hands as did the feeling of soft, smooth cloth. Its texture was similar to a traditional elven tunic for city wear. Not something one would journey this far out from the borders.
"Legolas!" He tried to clear the fog to confirm his thoughts and check his current statue if it was indeed him.
The fog was indispensable and whenever he could see signs of his face, it would thicken around the open air. But it had to be him and he wasn't responding to him so he must be unconscious. Gently, he scooped his son up into his arms and tried to use his rusty tracking skills that hadn't been needed for so many centuries to find his way back safely.
"Stay with me," he whispered. "Stay with me."
~~~
"Ai! I should not have let him care for the child. I should have done it myself. . . how? I do not know how I would carry such a burden. . .but is that not why I gave her to him to begin with? Because I had other matters to attend to? Yes, responsibility was what I wanted him to learn and I might lose him now because of it. Ah, Elbereth, what shall I do?"
Thranduil paced the room. "Even if he lives he will never be the same."
~~~
Six months slowly rolled by. Mirkwood was rebuilding itself little by little. Elrond offered his assistance and sent warriors to train new guards and to take post while in the process. It seemed as if the city would pull through and things would be back to normal soon.
Legolas, on the other hand, was not well. He would stand or sit on his balcony all day and night. In face, he might not have left his perch for months.
Countless elves had knocked on his locked door begging he let them enter and speak with him. But they received no answer. Others would stand in the gardens he overlooked and tried to speak to him, but failed to capture his attention.
The king thought of Elrond's letter and he hoped the plan would work. He had a backup just in case it didn't work out and Legolas answered how he expected.
Thranduil knocked on his son's door and waited. Several moments later when no sounds of movement reached his sensitive ears, he picked the lock and entered the room.
The balcony door were shut and the curtains drawn, making the room very dark. For a moment he thought he had entered the wrong room, but someone spoke.
"Why is it I cannot die?"
He stopped in his tracks, thinking the question was directed at him. His son wanted to die? Maybe this plan wouldn't work.
"Your life has only just begun. It holds---" He stopped abruptively when he felt a dagger at his throat.
"Who are you and how---why did you break into my quarters?"
"Legolas! Remove this!" He grabbed his forearm and moved his hand away. "What has happened to you?!"
"Father, I---" Thranduil walked over and pulled a match from a glass box on the dresser and struck it on the wood. Then proceeded to light two candles. He turned back to his son.
His eyes were dark brown and deep black circles formed around them. His skin was pale and his hair thin and limp. The tunic he wore was baggy and too big on his slimming, starved body.
"Have you seen what you have been doing to yourself?" he whispered looking at his shriveled son. He turned away, not being able to take the site and raised his voice. "This is unacceptable! I now know why you have locked yourself away in here. If I looked like that I would not go out either!" He sighed and caught his breath.
He turned towards the door, put his hand on the door and pushed it open. "Elrond will be disappointed you will not be able to come." He started through the doorway when he heard Legolas behind him.
"Go to Rivendell? Why?"
He turned. "Lord Elrond sees great potential in you as a warrior. He wanted you to travel to Rivendell to perfect your skills. Of course, he invited you to have your won accommodations in his palace and sit at the head table with him for feasts."
"That is very generous of him."
"Yes, well, I will go tell him you cannot accept the offer." He started down the corridor.
"Father?" He turned and saw Legolas in the doorway. "Why?"
"Son, look in the mirror. Look around you. Listen. See what is important. See the present."
~~~
Chapter Eight
"Ed' I'ear ar'elenea!
Oio naa elealla alasse'
"Mereth en draugrim
Utinu en lokirim
"Tula sinome
Tula amin
Tula Silmatarurea
"Yallume Kwentra I'narn, Aiya, en Wethrinaer
"'Dina! Tira ten'rashwe! Ro naa belegohtar ar' curucuar
"'Asca Nurta!
Detholalle farnuva
Goth en mellon
Asca, Ndengina no
"'Yee! Aiya!
Quel esta
Quel Kaima
Tenna' tae lea lle au'.'"
(A/N: Translated:
"By the sea and stars
Ever is thy sight of joy
"Feast of wolves Son of snakes
"Come here
Come to me
Come to the Starlit woods
"'At last Tell the tale, Oh, of the Deceitfull one'
"'Be silent!
Be careful!
He is a mighty warrior and skillful bowman
"'Hurry! Hide!
Your choice will suffice
Foe of my friend
Hurry Kill him!
"'Eek! Oh!
Rest well
Sleep well
Until we meet again. . . '")
~~~
"Manke naa lle? (Where are you?)" Thranduil cried as night assended. He should have gotten a horse. Truly, he found it hard to believe he had traveled this far. Had he missed him in this darkness?
"Legolas, Cormile naa Tanya tel'raa (Your heart is that of a lion). . . stay strong. . ."
~~~
The fog was densening more and more by the minute. Soon, his eyes would be no more use to him; he might as well be blind. A blind else might as well be useless for he relied heavily on his senses.
He wondered if the guards were still out in this. Or if there was a search party for him as well. What frightened him the most was the dark creatures that were living in the woods. Not only were orcs scavenging around, but spiders and other beings he dare not dream of. Were these creatures a threat? Of course. Guards were constantly pushing them away from the city's borders. If only Mirkwood hadn't fallen under shadow. . . this problem most likely would not exist.
'Ah, so in the end, this is my doing,' the king thought to himself. 'My son, forgive me.'
Just as he thought this, he stumbled on something in his path. He grunted as he stumbled like a drunken man and swore the object moaned. Catching his balance, he knelt and reached out blindly to feel what it was.
The object met his searching hands as did the feeling of soft, smooth cloth. Its texture was similar to a traditional elven tunic for city wear. Not something one would journey this far out from the borders.
"Legolas!" He tried to clear the fog to confirm his thoughts and check his current statue if it was indeed him.
The fog was indispensable and whenever he could see signs of his face, it would thicken around the open air. But it had to be him and he wasn't responding to him so he must be unconscious. Gently, he scooped his son up into his arms and tried to use his rusty tracking skills that hadn't been needed for so many centuries to find his way back safely.
"Stay with me," he whispered. "Stay with me."
~~~
"Ai! I should not have let him care for the child. I should have done it myself. . . how? I do not know how I would carry such a burden. . .but is that not why I gave her to him to begin with? Because I had other matters to attend to? Yes, responsibility was what I wanted him to learn and I might lose him now because of it. Ah, Elbereth, what shall I do?"
Thranduil paced the room. "Even if he lives he will never be the same."
~~~
Six months slowly rolled by. Mirkwood was rebuilding itself little by little. Elrond offered his assistance and sent warriors to train new guards and to take post while in the process. It seemed as if the city would pull through and things would be back to normal soon.
Legolas, on the other hand, was not well. He would stand or sit on his balcony all day and night. In face, he might not have left his perch for months.
Countless elves had knocked on his locked door begging he let them enter and speak with him. But they received no answer. Others would stand in the gardens he overlooked and tried to speak to him, but failed to capture his attention.
The king thought of Elrond's letter and he hoped the plan would work. He had a backup just in case it didn't work out and Legolas answered how he expected.
Thranduil knocked on his son's door and waited. Several moments later when no sounds of movement reached his sensitive ears, he picked the lock and entered the room.
The balcony door were shut and the curtains drawn, making the room very dark. For a moment he thought he had entered the wrong room, but someone spoke.
"Why is it I cannot die?"
He stopped in his tracks, thinking the question was directed at him. His son wanted to die? Maybe this plan wouldn't work.
"Your life has only just begun. It holds---" He stopped abruptively when he felt a dagger at his throat.
"Who are you and how---why did you break into my quarters?"
"Legolas! Remove this!" He grabbed his forearm and moved his hand away. "What has happened to you?!"
"Father, I---" Thranduil walked over and pulled a match from a glass box on the dresser and struck it on the wood. Then proceeded to light two candles. He turned back to his son.
His eyes were dark brown and deep black circles formed around them. His skin was pale and his hair thin and limp. The tunic he wore was baggy and too big on his slimming, starved body.
"Have you seen what you have been doing to yourself?" he whispered looking at his shriveled son. He turned away, not being able to take the site and raised his voice. "This is unacceptable! I now know why you have locked yourself away in here. If I looked like that I would not go out either!" He sighed and caught his breath.
He turned towards the door, put his hand on the door and pushed it open. "Elrond will be disappointed you will not be able to come." He started through the doorway when he heard Legolas behind him.
"Go to Rivendell? Why?"
He turned. "Lord Elrond sees great potential in you as a warrior. He wanted you to travel to Rivendell to perfect your skills. Of course, he invited you to have your won accommodations in his palace and sit at the head table with him for feasts."
"That is very generous of him."
"Yes, well, I will go tell him you cannot accept the offer." He started down the corridor.
"Father?" He turned and saw Legolas in the doorway. "Why?"
"Son, look in the mirror. Look around you. Listen. See what is important. See the present."
~~~