Series: Whispers in the Dark – Part 4
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn
Rating: PG
Warning: AU
Summary: The Men contemplates upon what to do with the Elf…
Notes: The "history" lecture is a little lengthy but I think it is necessary that I write it down because it helps you to understand the world that I'm trying to portray. Also, pretend that Rohan and Gondor had been united under one ruler (Aragorn) and that the mountains separating the two Kingdoms do not exist.
The Elf
It did not take long before the sun began to rise, its golden rays peeking over the horizon lending light to where darkness once resided. The men steadily made their way back to their camp; Boromir and Faramir bearing the burden of the dead carcass and Aragorn, with the Elf thrown across his shoulder.
Before long, they reached the familiar sight of their encampment and the King laid the Elf gently upon the ground, carefully checking that he was securely tied for fear that the Elf might try to escape or – even worse – try to attack them the moment he awakened. His eyes lingered for a moment upon the Elf's face, admiring the ethereal beauty of the creature lying before him and then turned away to tend to their deer.
Breakfast was a cheery event; their hunger finally appeased having eaten their fill of deer meat and the sweet sounds of the birds in the trees lent a pleasant atmosphere to the partaking of their meal. Boromir hummed in appreciation, savouring the lingering sweetness of their efforts upon the tips of his fingers while Faramir went off to discard the last scraps of their meal near the river bank.
Only Aragorn remained silent and thoughtful, his eyes sliding every now and again towards the figure lying inert under the shade of a tree upon where he had personally placed the Elf. Boromir took note of the direction of the King's glance, lapsing in turn into deep thoughts as he pondered upon the problems that they would have to face the moment their prisoner regained consciousness.
"Do you think he has any relatives, my lord? Anyone who might search for him they moment they find that he is missing?" Boromir asked, frowning a little at the new problem that he foresaw.
The King slanted him a look, before turning back to watch the steady rise and fall of the creature's chest as he slept.
"I do not know, Boromir. From what I have heard…from what I know… the Elves had since disappeared long before the Great Wars of our forefathers started. You have heard tales of a Dark Lord, have you not? Tales that you might have heard from Gandalf when you were little?" Aragorn asked, his voice hushed as if he feared that the Elf might be awakened if he spoke too loudly.
Boromir nodded his head, his brows furrowing in thought.
"I do remember hearing such stories in my days of youth. I have heard tales of the glorious times before the coming of Men… of Ancient Elves uniting under one banner, fighting side by side to bring about the defeat of the Dark Lord. I know that he had been vanquished but the world of Elves shattered as Great Elven Leaders of that time struggled to gain power over... over some unspeakable evil…" Boromir faltered, cocking his head in an attempt to remember the lost details of a story he had once learnt and had since forgotten.
"And I remembered," Faramir continued, his face appearing over Boromir's shoulder as he came to sit next to his brother.
"I remembered Gandalf speaking of the centuries of unrest and terrible violence that followed as they came to terms with the presence of this evil in Middle Earth. Some began to fade, unable to withstand the darkness that befell upon them. Others leave for their fair country in the distant lands. But one thing is certain, that time of magic had long since vanished, the memory that Men had of the Elves diminished until they were nothing more than myths."
Aragorn smiled in delight, his pleasure at hearing his friends retell the tales evident upon his face.
"Very good," he praised, "you have listened well to Gandalf's stories about the days of old."
And then it was Faramir's turn to frown.
"But what has such tales got to do with the Elf? It does not explain the reappearance of the Fair Folks in Middle Earth," he said, confusion lacing his words as he looked towards his brother and his King in askance.
"It has everything to do with the Elf," Aragorn answered, "Legend has it that the end of the Second Age was filled with much suffering and that *all* of the Elves faded into the West. Yet now, we know that it is not true and that some must have remained hidden in the woods even as we speak."
"But what if they are? What can this possibly mean? Why did this one stay behind when all of his people faded into the west centuries ago?" Faramir asked, a bewildered expression manifesting itself upon his face as he glanced at the unconscious Elf lying close to them.
The King was silent for a moment, clearly pondering upon the right answer to present to his friends.
"I do not know," he began slowly, trying to find the words to express the jumbled thoughts that were in his mind. "Gandalf's stories spoke of the diminishment of Elves and how in the later years, Men slowly began to grow stronger, fighting their wars against the strange beast that haunts them, slowly driving them deeper into the forests and expanding their empire. And even our history records, as you know, speaks of how our Kings of Old, Lord Elendil and his son Ilsildur, claimed lordship over the kingdom of Rohan and Gondor. No one remembered the Elves existed. No one has even seen them… until now."
"Perhaps they had returned and their numbers have grown of late? That the days of the past, of glory and of magic had came back?" Faramir suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Or perhaps they had not left at all? Remaining hidden in their dwellings until the time came when Men drove the Orcs and Goblins into the very heart of the forests, forcing the Elves to come out of their hiding in search of a more peaceful place to reside?" Aragorn murmured, his voice soft and eyes intense.
There was a short, uncomfortable silence.
"Which in turn, brings *him* here… to the borders of Gondor into our very forests. But why? Why now?" Boromir said, a spark understanding slowly showing in his eyes before confusion took over again.
"Think well, Boromir. You know that our Men had driven the Orcs over the river Anduin into the Green Woods. It is there in the Old Forest that the Elves must have lived and have been recently plagued by the very forces that we had had to contend with for many years. Perhaps they had sent one of their kinds here to see whence came the source of their discomfort," Aragorn answered, rubbing a hand over his face thoughtfully.
Another pause as each man became submerged in their reverie, their conversation halting as they attended to their own thoughts.
Suddenly Aragorn gave a slight start, his eyes darting immediately towards the direction of the two brothers, clearly giving a silent warning for them not to many any sounds or sudden movements. Boromir froze in his place before carefully turning his head towards the direction upon which the King's eyes were directed and gave a sharp intake of breath at the sight that greeted him.
A pair of blue eyes was looking deep into his.
The Elf had awakened.
to be continued…
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn
Rating: PG
Warning: AU
Summary: The Men contemplates upon what to do with the Elf…
Notes: The "history" lecture is a little lengthy but I think it is necessary that I write it down because it helps you to understand the world that I'm trying to portray. Also, pretend that Rohan and Gondor had been united under one ruler (Aragorn) and that the mountains separating the two Kingdoms do not exist.
The Elf
It did not take long before the sun began to rise, its golden rays peeking over the horizon lending light to where darkness once resided. The men steadily made their way back to their camp; Boromir and Faramir bearing the burden of the dead carcass and Aragorn, with the Elf thrown across his shoulder.
Before long, they reached the familiar sight of their encampment and the King laid the Elf gently upon the ground, carefully checking that he was securely tied for fear that the Elf might try to escape or – even worse – try to attack them the moment he awakened. His eyes lingered for a moment upon the Elf's face, admiring the ethereal beauty of the creature lying before him and then turned away to tend to their deer.
Breakfast was a cheery event; their hunger finally appeased having eaten their fill of deer meat and the sweet sounds of the birds in the trees lent a pleasant atmosphere to the partaking of their meal. Boromir hummed in appreciation, savouring the lingering sweetness of their efforts upon the tips of his fingers while Faramir went off to discard the last scraps of their meal near the river bank.
Only Aragorn remained silent and thoughtful, his eyes sliding every now and again towards the figure lying inert under the shade of a tree upon where he had personally placed the Elf. Boromir took note of the direction of the King's glance, lapsing in turn into deep thoughts as he pondered upon the problems that they would have to face the moment their prisoner regained consciousness.
"Do you think he has any relatives, my lord? Anyone who might search for him they moment they find that he is missing?" Boromir asked, frowning a little at the new problem that he foresaw.
The King slanted him a look, before turning back to watch the steady rise and fall of the creature's chest as he slept.
"I do not know, Boromir. From what I have heard…from what I know… the Elves had since disappeared long before the Great Wars of our forefathers started. You have heard tales of a Dark Lord, have you not? Tales that you might have heard from Gandalf when you were little?" Aragorn asked, his voice hushed as if he feared that the Elf might be awakened if he spoke too loudly.
Boromir nodded his head, his brows furrowing in thought.
"I do remember hearing such stories in my days of youth. I have heard tales of the glorious times before the coming of Men… of Ancient Elves uniting under one banner, fighting side by side to bring about the defeat of the Dark Lord. I know that he had been vanquished but the world of Elves shattered as Great Elven Leaders of that time struggled to gain power over... over some unspeakable evil…" Boromir faltered, cocking his head in an attempt to remember the lost details of a story he had once learnt and had since forgotten.
"And I remembered," Faramir continued, his face appearing over Boromir's shoulder as he came to sit next to his brother.
"I remembered Gandalf speaking of the centuries of unrest and terrible violence that followed as they came to terms with the presence of this evil in Middle Earth. Some began to fade, unable to withstand the darkness that befell upon them. Others leave for their fair country in the distant lands. But one thing is certain, that time of magic had long since vanished, the memory that Men had of the Elves diminished until they were nothing more than myths."
Aragorn smiled in delight, his pleasure at hearing his friends retell the tales evident upon his face.
"Very good," he praised, "you have listened well to Gandalf's stories about the days of old."
And then it was Faramir's turn to frown.
"But what has such tales got to do with the Elf? It does not explain the reappearance of the Fair Folks in Middle Earth," he said, confusion lacing his words as he looked towards his brother and his King in askance.
"It has everything to do with the Elf," Aragorn answered, "Legend has it that the end of the Second Age was filled with much suffering and that *all* of the Elves faded into the West. Yet now, we know that it is not true and that some must have remained hidden in the woods even as we speak."
"But what if they are? What can this possibly mean? Why did this one stay behind when all of his people faded into the west centuries ago?" Faramir asked, a bewildered expression manifesting itself upon his face as he glanced at the unconscious Elf lying close to them.
The King was silent for a moment, clearly pondering upon the right answer to present to his friends.
"I do not know," he began slowly, trying to find the words to express the jumbled thoughts that were in his mind. "Gandalf's stories spoke of the diminishment of Elves and how in the later years, Men slowly began to grow stronger, fighting their wars against the strange beast that haunts them, slowly driving them deeper into the forests and expanding their empire. And even our history records, as you know, speaks of how our Kings of Old, Lord Elendil and his son Ilsildur, claimed lordship over the kingdom of Rohan and Gondor. No one remembered the Elves existed. No one has even seen them… until now."
"Perhaps they had returned and their numbers have grown of late? That the days of the past, of glory and of magic had came back?" Faramir suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Or perhaps they had not left at all? Remaining hidden in their dwellings until the time came when Men drove the Orcs and Goblins into the very heart of the forests, forcing the Elves to come out of their hiding in search of a more peaceful place to reside?" Aragorn murmured, his voice soft and eyes intense.
There was a short, uncomfortable silence.
"Which in turn, brings *him* here… to the borders of Gondor into our very forests. But why? Why now?" Boromir said, a spark understanding slowly showing in his eyes before confusion took over again.
"Think well, Boromir. You know that our Men had driven the Orcs over the river Anduin into the Green Woods. It is there in the Old Forest that the Elves must have lived and have been recently plagued by the very forces that we had had to contend with for many years. Perhaps they had sent one of their kinds here to see whence came the source of their discomfort," Aragorn answered, rubbing a hand over his face thoughtfully.
Another pause as each man became submerged in their reverie, their conversation halting as they attended to their own thoughts.
Suddenly Aragorn gave a slight start, his eyes darting immediately towards the direction of the two brothers, clearly giving a silent warning for them not to many any sounds or sudden movements. Boromir froze in his place before carefully turning his head towards the direction upon which the King's eyes were directed and gave a sharp intake of breath at the sight that greeted him.
A pair of blue eyes was looking deep into his.
The Elf had awakened.
to be continued…