And now I must rave, since the final chapter of the epic tale has finally come out (and I've seen it twice already). Spoiler alert!!! Do not read the coming italicized part if you do not wish to hear about "The Return of the King"!!! Just skip on to the story!
Oh my God! Amazing! Absolutely 100% amazing! Better than the first two! Beyond belief! Jackson did a truly amazing job with this one! The battle scenes were totally amazing. Pelannor fields... astounding! When the Rohirrim finally came, blowing their horns, riding in all their glory... chilling! The Army of the Dead... awesome! When our three favorite heroes jumped from the Corsairs ships to fight the orcs... so cool! When Legolas took down the Oliphuant all by himself... loved it! Merry and Pippin... adorable as usual. The scene where Pippin is singing and Faramir is riding off to battle and nearly is death... that was a stroke of genius on Jackson's part. By far one of the best scenes in all three movies. (Billy Boyd has an awesome voice, as does Viggo Mortensen.) When Sam rescued Frodo from the tower... I nearly cheered. And the part in the end where Aragorn thanks Legolas, that scene right there adds all kinds of fuel to my stories. I love those two!
Now, things I didn't like. They cut out Saruman at Isengard. That would have been an awesome scene. When Merry and Pippin were separated, I nearly cried. I hated that part in the book, I hated it in the movie. Any and all scenes containing that hideous freak of nature known as Shelob. *shudders* Major arachnophobic here. Also, the part in the beginning where they further explained Sméagol's... evolution. That part was pointless and the time could have been used to do 'Ths Scouring of the Shire' instead. And the worst part (and the one thing I would have been happy for Jackson to change) was when Frodo leaves his Sam. Not cool. Just... no.
Other than that is was absolutely amazing and by far my favorite movie ever! They will never be able to top this, ever! (Although, everyone said that about the 'Star Wars' trilogy as well.) And may I just add on one final note... the scene near the end where everyone came into Frodo's room to see him after he had destroyed the ring... Aragorn and Legolas look so damn hot!!
And now to my wonderful reviewers -
Templa Otmena - Strider is precisely 27 in this story, as I had him at 18 in the last. And I'm sorry, but there wasn't much of an 'outcome' for their fight. I had them make nice, at least, as best as they could, in the 'untold' story that goes on between chapters, as I wished to move on with the story. I hope you still enjoy the chapter though.
MG87 - Patience my dear. Patience. I will never not post, I assure you. *sighs* The wait os over. In some ways, it makes me sad. It's all over. Everything. But, as you can tell from my rather excited and blathering gush about the movie above, I did quite enjoy it. :)
Estel Elven Enchantress - I'm sorry, babe, but this chapter may have to be placed in you 'too long' category. It just sort of ran away with me. *grins*
silvertoekee - No worries. I feel ya on the sleep thing. And no, our dear elf does not yet trust Strider. Hundreds of years of mistrust and hatred are rather hard to get over. The people that hurt him took his bow, and you will find out soon who they are (I just figured it out myself *grins*). And you'll just have to wait and see if they ever get along. :)
Starlit Hope - I concur.
hobby - Thank you!
C-Chan10 - Well thank you. And as for the Sindarin, I found a lovely little website that has an English-to-Sindarin dictionary that you can download. It's very useful.
SilverKnight7 - Okay!
Deana - I agree. *grins*
Michelle - Ah, my dear, I truly wish I could, but I am afraid it is not a possibility. As I have stated in previous Author's Note, once a week is all I can manage. I'm very sorry.
BashirXena - You're welcome. And as for Legolas, he has his reasons. I know I make him a little (or a lot) OOC, but I'll fix him eventually, I promise.
Coolio02 - Well, I'm sure both traits come naturally to elves. I mean, if you were that perfect, don't you think you might be a little prideful too? I know I sure would. :)
Alexis-Greenleaf - Brilliant? Goodness. Thank you I'm sure. And as for your question, no. I don't write slash. *shrugs*
Gwyn - Hmm. It may, it may not. As my readers still do not know yet what happened to our dear elf, I am loathe to let Aragorn find out. I may have to wait until after I write and post the other story. And before you even ask, it will not be posted until after this one is done. I am incapable of writing two stories at once.
And a side not to cherry-fearie, I'm soo sorry, but I did not contact my friend for that website! I will have it for you in the next post. I promise promise promise!
" Leaves of Glass "
** Chapter 4 - Honor and Darkness **
Strider and Legolas sat silently on the edge of the woods, watching the darkening camp at the base of the trees. Night was falling quickly on this chill winter day, the third since the prince's rescue; the stars were beginning to show their light to the earth below and the last rays of the sun were disappearing behind the far off mountain ranges to sleep until the morrow. And all of Arda seemed still, peaceful as the two warriors sat and watched. But this camp, though the air around it was filled with laughter, was dead and cold.
This was the camp of the rouges that had dared attack the prince in his own lands.
"Di garo rem mûl." Strider whispered into Legolas' ear from his place beside the prince in a dark, ancient tree. ("They have many slaves.")
"Ai." Legolas replied, his voice tinged with anger and disgust. "I saw the wretched creatures when their masters beat me."
Strider cast a glance at the elf then peered once again into the camp at their feet. And wretched they were, the slaves that kept the camp. They were starved and tired, their clothes little more than rags, and their masters' disapproval apparent in the dark bruises that colored their pale skin. Women were the more numerous, their thin bodies hunched and broken as they tended the cooking pots and prepared the beds for the men. Strider did not wish to think of how many of the poor creatures would be sharing those beds that night.
"Then why, I wonder," The Ranger said as his gaze fell from one beaten body to the next. ", did they not take you? Surely you would have been more useful to them than these pitiful beings. They all walk a thin line between this life and death's door. A very thin line." As Strider watched them something struck him as odd about the unfortunate humans. Something, beyond their slavery, wasn't quite right. But he had no time to contemplate this as Legolas answered his question.
"It was a message." The prince said cryptically. Strider turned back to him once more but the elf did not meet his eyes. Instead he turned towards the woods and their own camp, glancing down at the leaf littered earth before moving to leave his high perch.
Before he could go Strider grabbed his arm, pulling his injured hand away from the branch he was about to grip. "You forget yourself again." He chastised, keeping a firm hold on the wounded limb.
"I do not forget." The elf replied coldly. "I simply wish for a speedier recovery than my body seems to want to allow."
Strider nearly rolled his eyes, but caught himself, not wishing to anger the temperamental prince. Again. "I do not wish to change your bandages again. Please be more careful."
Though the young Ranger had insisted it would take weeks for the elf's hands to be fully functional again the immortal was insistent upon ignoring his knowledge. He begrudged his need of the human's aide, though he had become slightly easier to deal with over the past days. But Strider knew the ethereal being wanted nothing more than to be free of him.
The elf nodded stiffly and gritted his teeth in anger as Strider helped him climb from the tree.
'Disgraceful.' The prince thought to himself as the human swung easily from the branch he had just, unaided by his hands, half-fallen from.
"Come." Strider said as he walked towards their camp. "Tomorrow we will head to your home."
Legolas scoffed. "What happened to the brave Ranger who was going to storm the camp and make them pay for what they had done?" While he was quite skilled in the healing arts, the elf had to admit, he did not trust the human's skills in battle. The only true fight he had ever seen the young human in he had been surrounded by elven warriors, no doubt surviving only by their aide.
A small memory reminded him that the brash Ranger had only been in the fight to help him. He quickly quelled that as they continued their journey through the forest.
"Oh, I fully intend on making them pay for what they did to you. And those poor creatures they still hold." Strider said as he held back a branch for the elf to pass. "I'm just not going to do it with you."
Legolas stopped in his tracks. "Why not?" He demanded, his eyes narrowing in anger as he turned towards the Ranger. As if the foolish child could actually survive a battle, let alone defeat so many foes, without aide.
"You, my friend, cannot even hold a weapon." Strider said gently, no hint of gloat or contempt in his voice.
"I would survive better than you, even without the use of my hands." Legolas stated angrily, brushing past him and marching through the underbrush. He shoved branches and leaves out of his way as he walked, gritting his teeth against the pain that was shooting up his arms, sending stars to his sight.
"Do not be childish, nin caun." Strider said softly, catching up to him and grabbing his arms once again, stopping him in his tracks. He brought the bandaged hands up to his eyes, ignoring the slight struggle the prince put up. Small twigs and broken leaves were now imbedded in the white cloths and bright blood was seeping through in small dots. (... , my prince.")
Strider sighed and released Legolas' hands then started forward again, gently pushing the elf ahead of him. Though nearly three thousand years older than he, the prince still seemed so young to the Ranger. So vulnerable and scared.
'What honor is there in running from a battle?' That same, soft voice whispered through Legolas' head as he walked ahead of Strider. 'He wishes to disgrace you.'
Legolas shook his head as if to dislodge to voice. Too often in the past days had it entered his head, telling him of the human's treachery or his own weakness. He was beginning to worry that it was more than it seemed. But it did have a point.
"What honor is there in running?" The elf asked as they reached their camp which was nestled into a small clearing in the vast woods. Strider gently pushed on his shoulders and he sat, his pride twisting slightly at the ease in whish he obeyed.
Strider shifted through his travel pack and pulled out his medicine bag, then quickly retrieved a bowl of water from the small stream that cut the clearing in half. "There is more honor to be found by leaving a fight in which you cannot win, than staying in one simply to bolster your own pride." He said as he knelt beside the prince and took up his hands once again. "Especially when other lives are at risk."
Legolas sighed and watched as the Ranger changed his bandages again. "You are wise for your young age." He whispered after a moment, his eyes clouded in shame. The boy spoke true, in spite of how Legolas felt. He could not endanger the others, the innocents in the camp, simply to regain his dignity.
For a long moment Strider said nothing, the barely-there words chasing each other through his head. Perhaps the elf had changed, despite his arrogance. Some years ago the young human would have believed it true that the prince would rather have had his tongue cut out than make such a statement of him. A small beacon of hope flared in him that perhaps he could truly win over this cold prince of the Firstborn.
"How..."
The Ranger had wished desperately these past days to ask Legolas a question he knew the elf would be loathe to answer. A question in which asking might perhaps make him leave for good.
"Ask your question." Legolas said softly as if he had read the young human's mind. He pulled his re-bandaged hands back to his body, staring down at them so as not to meet the dark grey eyes of the youth. "I will not leave. I cannot."
Perhaps he could not leave, Strider knew, but injured or not he did not doubt the elf's power in his anger. He had seen it once and nearly died from the experience. Ah well. His foster father always told him he never used his head, why start now?
"How did they capture you?" He asked in a rush. But he instantly wished he could retrieve the words from the cold air as Legolas' body stiffened and his face turned to a mask of stone. The elf's eyes clouded over with a mixture of anger and sorrow and Strider prepared himself for the tirade he knew was to follow. But it did not come.
"Travel in our lands is still permitted to strangers as long as they stay near our borders." Legolas said slowly, his chest rising with a deep, controlled breath, his anger staying locked behind his eyes. "I was hunting and had set up camp in the clearing you found me in. A group of five travelers came upon the camp; one was a child, no more than ten years of age. They said they were lost, and I offered to show them the way out.
But they said that the child was sick and could travel no more that night, and indeed I believed them, for I could feel too much heat rising from his body and he looked to be on death's door. I offered them shelter in my camp until the child could continue their journey."
Strider raised his eyes at this, turning from the stew he had begun to cook, disbelief on his face. "You showed no such mercy to me when I was a child." He accused, his brow creasing in resentment. How could the prince lead such a double life? Or was it truly he that the Eldar hated and not simply his mortal blood?
"I was not always so cold." The prince whispered, his eyes traveling down to the bandages on his hands, tracing the blood that had seeped through.
But all thought of anger left the Ranger in a rush as he watched the prince. Strider thought again at that moment that the ancient being seemed so impossibly young. His deep eyes filled with sorrow and his shoulders fell in long-past defeat. He seemed to curl into himself, wrapping a shroud of protection around his frail being as the young human watched, amazed at the speed in which this transformation changed the proud, arrogant royal into a frightened child.
"Ages ago my people told my father that I was the most kind-hearted monarch they had known. That my spirit gave them hope in the time of peril that was stealing Greenwood's beauty from us." The prince said, his wounded hands shaking as he continued to stare down at them. "But no longer."
He stood then, graceful as a deer, cold as a new winter's frost, and turned his back on Strider. The human watched silently as the child in him broke away and was quickly replaced with the lordly prince he had trained to be. The elf's body stiffened as he stared out into the dark forest, his head rising in dignity, his shoulders squaring once again. When he turned around his face was that same cold mask the Ranger had known all his young life, all traces of the frightened, wounded soul lost like dry leaves in the wind.
"Once a fire had been made and the child seen too one of the men lit a pipe." The prince said, continuing his story as if nothing had happened. "The smell was sweet, though still offensive for its smoke, but I did not ask him to extinguish it, for I wished to deal with them as little as possible. It filled the clearing and the next thing I remember was being woken from a deep sleep by a blow to my gut."
"There was a drug in the smoke." Strider stated.
"Ai. That is my belief as well." Legolas sat down beside him once again, leaning against the dark trunk of a tree. "They impaled my hands before they left, and said that, should I survive, it would do well to tell my king that they would return for what was theirs. I do not know what that means."
Strider stirred the contents in the pot, contemplating in silence what the men could have meant. He did not even know where these humans came from however, so his guess was as good as any.
"Where is Avarilas?" The Ranger asked after several minutes of silence.
Legolas looked up from his wounded hands and shrugged. "Out looking for me, more than likely." He said. "Much to his chagrin I have taken to... relieving myself of his presence once again. Something I have not done in many centuries. Ever since the incident at Rivendell he has become entirely overbearing. Partly because of my father's wish, and explicit orders, to keep better watch on me, partly because he feels guilty. It was on his watch as well that I was..."
Strider perked up at the prospect of hearing some of the mysterious prince's long past, but he was disappointed when Legolas raised his dark brows and pointed at the fire instead. He looked down to see their dinner boiling over the edge of the time-worn pot.
He let out a particularly nasty elvish curse, which earned him a sardonic smile from the prince's lips, and quickly removed the pot from the fire.
"Supper's ready." He said with a sheepish smile.
***
Sometime later Strider lifted the last spoonful of stew to Legolas' lips, which the prince took reluctantly as he had every other bite. Finished with the difficult task he quickly walked away from the elf and the dark cloud that had settled over him once again. He bent beside the stream and washed clean the two bowls and spoons.
As he straightened, the hair on the back of his neck stiffened and he dropped the dishes, quickly pulling his knife from its sheath, his senses suddenly alert and tingling. Legolas stood behind him and crouched into a fighter's position, a grimace crossing his face as his hands unconsciously clenched.
"Come out from the shadows." Strider demanded, gazing out into the dark forest. "We know you are there."
"And this we knew as well." A low, sinister voice said from the edge of the clearing, just beyond the human's vision. Legolas hissed and stepped towards the hidden figure.
"You are smart, child of the Eldar." The voice said. A dark figure, cloaked in black, stepped into the clearing and pulled a hood from his head, revealing a chiseled face adorned with a wicked smile.
The man was darkly handsome, with black, piercing eyes and raven hair that fell in waves to his shoulders. The very air around him seemed to be pierced with malice as he stared at the two fighters. "But not too smart. I told you to return to your king. Why did you seek out our camp?" It was Strider's turn to gasp.
"Yes, we knew you were there." The dark man said, his eyes never leaving Legolas'. "The poison we placed in your veins calls to us." He said, his voice low and forbidding, directed to the prince's ears. "For it is the same that runs in ours."
Legolas struggled to remain still, calm as this man, emanating darkness from his very core, seemed to steal the light that made his existence. He could feel the vulnerable child, the one he so readily seemed to release these past days, struggle to surface once again. His eyes were locked with those of the wicked man and he felt as if they were tearing his soul away, piece by piece.
"Sleep now, my prince." The dark man whispered. And as the words hit his ears his body obeyed and he was lost to darkness again.
To Be Continued...
Another slow chapter, and a cliffhanger... Why do you people put up with me? Eh, at least this one was long.
Until next time!
Adrienne
