Author: Arinya
Rating:R
Summary: Sam is forced to retell all the things that happened after the Fellowship had succeeded in destroying the Ring. All the members of the Fellowship have their own problems. Darkness returns, and Love struggles to conquer all. But as the problems mount up to a peak, can they survive? And can Sam bear telling his audience the true story?
Chapter Eight: The Arrival
mallorn-a type of very large tree in Middle-Earth
malinorne- the quenyan word for 'mallorn'
Legolas had been on his trek for two days so far. He was in much higher spirits now, and walked briskly between the trees, taking the by roads, avoiding the large ones. A pattern of dappled light shined on the forest floor, and he breathed in deeply. Yes, he felt much at home wandering in the forests, than in Mirkwood. Mirkwood was much too dark, too many stone walls that held stale air. He rested one hand on the new sword he had recieved from Gimli as he walked. The hilt was made for a one hand grip, no matter, he was not used to the double-gripped hilts anyway. Those were mostly made for the men who liked to use extra power in their fighting. One arm was good enough for an elf. His broken arm was almost completely healed. He had decided to take off the splint a little earlier. His arm felt compacted, which was the desired effect, but he wanted more freedom in his movement. The limb felt bruised, but it was alright with him, as long as he could use it without much pain.
As night fell, and the sun dipped below the horizon, Legolas climbed a tall tree and decided to sleep there for the night. There was no sign of a coming storm, and the tree offered more protection in case any enemies came. They would not be able to see him, and he would have the advantage of sight and altitude. He leaned on the trunk, and stretched his legs out on a long branch in front of him. At least one good thing about being a Mirkwood elf was that he was familiar with the trees and loved them as he loved his fellow elves. Feeling relaxed, and safe, Legolas closed his eyes and slipped into a peaceful sleep.
At dawn, Legolas awoke and quietly climbed down the tree without rustling any leaves. He took out some flatbread from Gimli from his pocket. Breaking off a small piece, he ate some and put the rest of the food back into the fold of cloth that stored it. The dwarf food was grainy and tough, but nourishing and filling. He quickened his pace, wanting to reach Lothlorien as soon as he could. Making short stops on his way, he drank water from freshwater streams, and gathered woodland food.
It was another day before he had reached Lothlorien. He had caught sight of the Golden Wood from afar and ran with wings on his feet. By the late afternoon, he had entered the realm of the Lady Galadriel. Even though he was joyful he had reached his destination, he could see what Gimli meant. Something did not feel right. Everything looked as it should have, but something in the air was out of place. He felt a ripple of something he could not identify, it bothered him and he thought twice before continuing deeper into the Wood.
He felt eyes. Yes. That was the first perception. He felt as if he were being watched from every angle. He felt their gazes burn into his skin, and murmurings of threat, danger, violence. And one pure voice of welcoming. He took this as the Lady's message, an anchor to help him meet her. He refrained from whirling around with each step, paranoia was rooted so deep in him, he could not stop fidgeting with his sword.
Finally reaching the signs of civilization, he saw the winding steps around a huge mallorn. But even here, in the midst of all the beauty that Lothlorien held, something was wrong. But he could not place it, and he could not turn back after all the effort. Legolas climbed up the stairs very quickly, and upon reaching the platform at the very highest point, frowned. Galadriel was not here.
"But where...where could the Lady be? I do not understand..."
"Not all things are understandable young Legolas, but I am here. I always have been"
Legolas was startled, something very rare, as Galadriel spoke and emerged from her hiding place.
"I know what you seek Legolas, how long do you plan on staying in my realm?"
Legolas was mildly surprised by this, he knew that the Lady of the Golden Wood had sorcery of her own that rivaled the Istari.
"As long as you allow me to my Lady" he said, respectfully bowing.
"Good" she said, an odd little smile playing her features.
"I thank you my Lady" he said.
She waved her hand at him.
"There is no need. Your room is here, in the path veering towards the smaller malinorne..."
He nodded, and went away, noticing that she was watching him intently, the odd little smile still present. She wore different clothes, much more lavish in fabric, but battle-like in desgin. He paid little heed to this though, now he was tired, relieved, and grateful. Finding a soft bed with lovely white sheets, he lay down. Too exhausted from his trek to bother about his clothing or the weapon he still had at his side.