Author: Mirrordance

Title: Return

Summary: Post-LOTR. Legolas always felt at odds with his home kingdom. Though it's King by birthright, he fled it, building a prosperous colony in Ithilien. Just when all seems well at last, great dangers in Mirkwood call for the return of THIS King home.

* * *

PART FIVE

* * *

Outskirts of Bree

3023

* * *

      "Ages without light," Legolas murmured thoughtfully as he, Gimli, Haldir, Serafin, Elias and Estel explored the cave from which the Forgotten Elves came.  Sari and Teresa went back home to the orphanage, while the door outside was guarded by the twin sons of Elrond (wouldn't want them shutting behind us now, would we? Estel asked, winking at them as he ducked into the darkness) and their sister Arwen.  The host of Forgotten Elves left for Eryn Lasgalen some days after their freedom, eager to reach their home at last after a lifetime of captivity.

      "No wonder they are strange," agreed Haldir, nodding at Legolas, "And I thought you were quirky."

      Legolas' lips quivered in a laugh, "I thought so too."

      Gimli touched the cool rock surface as they walked.  "This is good, solid rock.  But I can clearly see that they gradually expanded the area."

      "What do you mean?" Legolas asked.

      Gimli raised his torch upon the way that they had come, "When we opened the door, we entered the original prison.  Throughout their ages here, they carved out these passes and ways, perhaps to look for some other means of escape since the front door proved impenetrable, or to build a city in resignation of their fate.  It is crude work, very poorly done.  But aside from the fact that these were made by the lesser hands of elves, I cannot imagine what tools they could have used to improve it."

      "We used rock on rock," Elias replied, "And it took forever, and a lot of work and heart, not to mention mad hoping, so I appreciate you not demeaning our efforts, Master Dwarf."

      "I beg you have patience for my companion, Elias," said Legolas good-naturedly, "His tongue doesn't always coordinate with his head."

      "I do not know how you survived," Estel said to the elderly elf, "You have my utmost admiration for the strength of your spirit."

      "And mine," said Haldir.

      The praise made Elias uncomfortable.  He stopped walking where he stood, and he hesitated moving forward.

      "We've gone deep enough," he said, "The pass goes nowhere that does not look any different from where we've been.  And we're almost to its end.  Let us leave.  I've been dying to leave for an infinity."

      "Perhaps some have been left behind," reasoned Legolas, "We must be certain before we close the doors once again."

      "You will find no one there, I guarantee," said Elias quickly, "Please, let us leave."

      Legolas looked at Estel with furrowed brows, and then at Searfin, "You may want to go ahead, Elias.  Serafin will lead you."

      "No," insisted Elias, "Let us all just leave and never come back."

      "What lies here that you've not experienced before?" Gimli snapped at him, "You are free already, one last minute in this hole will not hurt you if it buys us the assurance that all of your kin are safe, will it?"

      The stubborn dwarf stepped forward ahead of the others, to be followed by a sighing Legolas.  He agreed with the dwarf's logic completely, but Gimli tends to sound rough and offensive, even if he did often get the right ideas across.

      "You can try a more tactful approach," Legolas murmured to the dwarf.

      "Well someone has to say whatever needs saying else we'd all still be standing there," Gimli muttered, "Besides, between you and I, it's a tactic that always works to get us what we want."

      "What tactic?" Legolas asked, knowing he would regret it.

      "We call it, good dwarf, bad dwarf," Gimli confided, "It works this way.  You see, the bad dwarf makes the victim uncomfortable, alright? And then the good dwarf endears himself to the victim in comparison and it all works to the duo's advantage."

      "Good dwarf, bad dwarf," chuckled Legolas, "If you speak of your kin, mellon, I think it would be far better to refer to the tactic as bad dwarf, worse dwarf."

      "Ohhhh…" seethed the dwarf, "I'll let that go only because I know you do not mean it—"

      "Gimli," Legolas said softly, raising the dwarf's torch aloft higher before them, "Oh..." he breathed, "I would not have wanted to return here either."

      Before them, at the deepest corner of the narrow way, were the piled bones of the dead.  There was no order to it at all, seemingly no reverence.  They were almost, almost devoid of who they were, remnants of their bodies scattered and mixed; this skeleton's arm, this one's skull, this one's chest…

      The sight made Legolas' blood boil, although he was uncertain with whom he was angry.  The evils that brought about the imprisonment, yes, of course.  But also… also just the savageness of the pile, how they were reminiscent of animals…

      "How many died?" he asked Elias.

      "Of all the host that attempted to make the move to Greenwood and were captured," replied the old elf sadly, "Only I remain alive.  They slept, and they never woke.  Torres and the others that you have seen with me, they were born here in this prison."

      "Is that why their eyes do not shine?" Gimli asked.

      "Perhaps," replied Elias, "I do not know.  They were born here.  They've never known and have never seen light.  Sometimes, I found myself wondering who was luckier.  They, who've never seen the beauty of the sun, the stars, the moon and the skies, or I, who have known beauty and was viciously wrested from it.  Or perhaps it is the dead that is luckiest of all, for theirs is the ultimate escape."

      "They must not be left here," Legolas said, his voice strong and firm, though he turned towards Estel with pleading eyes.

      "They will not be," Elessar promised, "But this is a task we cannot do on our own.  Now we shall leave, and rest, and speak of our plans."

* * *

      It was the human and elven soldiers of Gondor and Ithilien that emptied the cave of all its dead, and sealed the door behind them at last.  While the demands of his kingdom urged a quick ending to Estel's adventure, Legolas stayed to oversee the task.  With him was Gimli, Haldir, Elias and Serafin, while Lord Elrond's sons traveled to Minas Tirith with the king and queen.

      Legolas sighed as he stepped out of the cave at last, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  The doors have closed, a fitting ending to a dark, dark time, and the beginning of a new one which was literally and figuratively bright.

      It was late at night when their task ended, and save for the dim glow of the camp's firelight, it was almost as dark outside as it was inside.  Elias noticed this too, and he shuddered at the idea of moving from one dark place to just another.  It was the night of the new moon, and without it and the sun, he felt deprived and lonely, and once again trapped…

      "Let's have a hearty and well-deserved meal, lad," Gimli declared suddenly, sitting upon the ground next to a fire and happily lording over a plate of meats.

      The sight made Legolas smile, and he settled down between the dwarf and Haldir.  Serafin as always, refrained from eating while his prince ate, or resting when his prince rested.  He stood an unintrusive distance from Legolas' back.

      "Elias," Legolas called to the distracted elf, who was staring up at the empty skies, "Come sit by us.  Have a meal."

      The old elf hesitated, but eventually complied, mumbling, "The moon is hiding from me.  My first night out and it hides.  Unlucky."

      "It will appear again," Legolas said soothingly, "It is how life unfolds."

      "But why must it hide now of all days?" snapped Elias, his heart pounding, his fingers clawing.  He was irrationally angry.

      "Because you're being irritable," Haldir said coolly, handing the old elf a cup of broth, "Here.  Eat."

      Elias glared at him, but eventually took the cup.  He brought it to his lips, and closed his eyes to savor the flavor.  "It's good."

      He finished the cup in a hurry and asked for more.  When he finished thar, he asked for another, and another.  His hunger was insatiable.  It was first amusing, and then worrisome, for as the camp settled towards sleep, he was still eating.

      ~You'll make yourself sick,~ Legolas told him.

      ~I'm hungry,~ said the elf between gulps.

      ~We can see that,~ said Haldir wryly, ~But it would be wise for you to control yourself.~  Haldir reached to take the cup away, but in a maneuver the Lothlorien warrior could not have expected of the gaunt old elf, Ellias spun to his feet and pointed a dagger Haldir's way.

      ~This is mine,~ he said gravely.

      Haldir looked at Legolas warily.  They had a madman on their hands! In a flash of movement, Legolas threw his hand forward and disarmed Elias, who cried out in displeasure as his weapon soared to the air and landed on the ground dully.  Searfin made a move to incapacitate the older elf further, but Legolas looked at him pointedly and wordlessly ordered him to hold his ground.

      ~That brand of violence is unnecessary,~ Legolas warned Elias coldly, ~Not to mention unwelcome.~

      Elias bared his teeth at the prince, but viciously handed his cup of broth to Haldir, the liquid spilling on the sides, glaring at him all the while.

      Legolas walked to where the dagger fell, and he handed it to Elias by the hilt.  The old elf took it grudgingly.

      ~We do not want to take anything from you,~ Legolas told him soothingly, ~I know resources in your prison must have been scarce such that you had to fight for every scrap that you could find.  But you have to understand that you are with friends now, and our resources are plenty and abundant enough for everyone to have a fair share.~

      Elias looked at him with turbulent eyes, as if he fought some strange demon within himself.  ~I'm sorry.  It will not happen again, I was just… I was just really hungry.~

* * *

Eryn Lasgalen

3023

* * *

      Elsewhere that night, at the heart of King Thranduil's palace-fortress, there was a greater hunger that was not as easily calmed.

      Yasmina started upon the moonless night from her window, feeling angered and trapped herself.  By the King's courtesy, she and her husband stayed within the palace, until proper plans can be drawn out to complete their move to the kingdom.

      Eryn Lasgalen was a sight to behold, was said to be reminiscent of the greatest cities of old.  It's been through war these past few years, she was told and here and there repairs and improvements were still being made by craftsmen.  But it held such beauty to her, whose eyes have long known the dark and the cold of coarse stone.  It was a beauty that was so stunning it hurt her, and emptied her, and irrationally angered her.

      ~Where did the moon go?~ she said softly, and the lady's maid that Thranduil brought into her service for the duration of her stay at the palace looked up at her from fixing the hem of her new dress.

      ~'Tis the night of the new moon, my lady,~ replied the maid.

      ~Will it ever come back?~ Yasmina asked.

      ~Of course, my lady,~ replied the maid, gathering her feet.  Her multitude of layered skirts caught upon each other, and she fell back to her knees with an unglamorous yelp, especially after she pricked her arm with the sewing needle she was using.

      ~You should be more careful,~ Yasmina said, leaning over to help her.  She took the maid by the forearms, her hands touching the bleeding wound from the needle.  The coppery scent touched the air, and made her heart beat faster.  She pulled herself away from the made and turned back towards the window.

      ~I do not need a lady's maid,~ she said crossly, looking at the skies.  They were so dark, and the speckles of the stars suddenly felt ridiculously inadequate.  She had tasted light, and the bleak, moonless night was grating on her nerves.  She hated the dark…

      ~I only follow the King's orders, ma'am,~ the other elf said meekly.

      ~I…~ Yasmina hesitated, ~I know.  I'm sorry.  It's just… It's just this dark…~ she ran her hands through her hair, and the scent of traces of the maid's blood on her hands wafted towards her nose again.  Her hand strayed to her face, and she sniffed at it.  She closed her eyes, relishing the scent.  This was making her hungry…

      ~My lady?~ the maid asked, her voice trembling as she watched the strange play of emotions over the cave-elf's face.

      ~Be gone,~ Yasmina said to the woman, ~I do not need a maid.~

      ~My lady…~ the maid said, reaching to take Yasmina's hand.

      In a blur of movement, Yasmina's eyes snapped open and she grabbed the offensive digits of the other elf.  Viciously, with her dull dark eyes seemingly deepening and darkening in a way that seemed impossible with how dark it already seemed at the onset, she pulled the maid close.

      ~Your eyes,~ Yasmina murmured, ~Your eyes have light.~

      ~You're hurting me,~ the maid said, trying to pull away.  But the cave elf's grip was like the mithril that she wore here and there.

      ~They have fire,~ Yasmina continued, ~And your skin, it glows.  And it's all so warm, and beautiful.~

      ~Th-th-thank you,~ the maid stammered.

      ~I'm so hungry,~ Yasmina said.

      ~I…~ the maid shook, and tried to pull away again, ~I shall have another supper sent up--~

      ~Your poor excuse of a meal will not satisfy me,~ Yasmina seethed, ~It never has.  I'm so hungry.  I've been hungry for days and days.~ she sighed, as if tired and resigned, ~Remember one thing: I told you to leave.~

      ~I'm sorry!~ the maid exclaimed, ~I will now my lady, I swear, I'll never bother you again--~

      But Yasmina was not hearing her anymore.  The dark of her eyes seemed to steal the life out of the room.  She will get what she wants.  The maid came to the same conclusion too late. 

      ~Help m--~ she screamed, only to be cut short by Yasmina's powerful hands taking the air from her throat, crushing the life from her.

      The maid writhed and struggled, and finally stilled.  And as she lowered the elf's body to the floor, Yasmina's head and teeth descended upon the elf-woman's broken body, satisfying her gnawing hunger at last.

      Suddenly, the doors to her room opened, and a sentry stepped inside, looking harried.

      ~My lady!~ the soldier cried, ~Are you--~

      His eyes widened at the bloody sight before him, and it stole his breath away, almost as much as the cave-elf's powerful lunge that brought them both to the ground.  She reached for his neck and broke it in a snap that almost seemed deceptively easy.  She was unearthly strong, and unearthly angry and hungry and, and… well, really angry and really hungry.

      Her teeth descended upon his body, just as the doors burst open with another unwelcome entry.  A squad of oldiers looked at her in shock, and then aimed their arrows…

* * *

      There was a commotion outside.

      Torres looked at King Thranduil, with whom he was meeting.  The pair of them rose to their feet and hurried out to the halls.  Torres noticed with a pounding heart that they were slowly headed towards the room he shared with his wife.

      Yasmina

      They pushed their way past other sentries and servants, and stopped in shock as the sight of the beautiful elf with her bloodied hands and bloodied face, crouched over her victims like a wild animal.  Torres looked at her with dread and horror, knowing that their secret, darker than the cave which once held them, was revealed at last.

      ~No!~ Torres bellowed, when his eyes settled upon the elven soldiers who had his beloved wife in their sights.  His mind raced.

      No.

      This was not how he wanted things to unfold.  Set free at last, living in the light… it held so much promise.  Perhaps they didn't have to be what they learned to be in the dark anymore.  There was hope.  They could change.  And they certainly tried.  But oh, how it hurt to find they were failing.  Yasmina was first to succumb to her hunger, but probably will not be the last… his own starvation was getting to be a bother, and the meats of the animals will not satisfy him at all, no matter how much he wanted them to.  The secret was bound to be revealed.  Now everything was only a question of survival.

      As it always was.

      Viciously, he grabbed Thranduil by the neck.  All arrows were then aimed at him rather than his beloved wife, but he did not care.  He had the King.  He will get all that he wanted.

* * *

Road to Ithilien

3023

* * *

      The bones made an indescribably discomforting clinking and clanking as they bounced upon the veiled wooden cart that held them as Legolas and his party of soldiers traversed the uneven road.

      ~I've not ridden a horse in awhile,~ said Elias, ~Magnificent creatures.~

      ~Except for this one,~ Gimli growled half-heartedly; it was really rather plainly known that he was as in love with Arod as Legolas was.

      ~Don't be mean, Gimli,~ Legolas chuckled, ~Our friend here has missed you.~

      ~Well he sure doesn't like to show it,~ said the dwarf, ~He tried to nip at my ear earlier today.~

      ~I think that's a good thing,~ Legolas laughed.

      ~Well I don't like it,~ Gimli said with finality.

      They fell to a companionable silence, broken only by the disturbing clinks and clanks and rattling.  The cart hit upon a particularly prominent fissure on the road, and some of the bones actually bounced out to the ground.

      ~Halt,~ Searfin commanded the party, and he dismounted his horse and stooped over to pick up the bone.  It looked eerily macabre.  He walked to the cart, running his fingers over the long, slim bone with reverence.  He stopped before laying it back into the cart, and looked at it more closely.  Its cool smoothness was broken by curious little marks and depressions.  Frowning, he laid it down and picked up another bone at random, finding the same thing there, and the same thing along all the others that he examined.

      ~Let's go,~ Elias said, shifting upon his seat uneasily.

      ~What are you doing there, Serafin?~ Legolas asked, craning his neck to look.

      ~I'm sorry for waylaying us, my lord,~ Searfin said, stepping back from the cart and walking to his horse, ~I just saw something curious.  Strange marks on the bones, sire.  Small depressions, scratches, the like.  Perhaps you would let me examine them before the burial.~

      ~There's nothing to examine,~ snapped Elias, ~They slept and they never woke.  It's all that there is.  Why cannot we just let this dark past be?~

      Legolas glanced at Elias, and then looked at Serafin thoughtfully.  He gave the loyal guard a curt, discreet nod, and the party began the move towards Ithilien again.

* * *

Minas Tirith

3023

* * *

      Arwen, her brothers and Estel gathered about one of the homier libraries of the palace, sitting before the fire with glasses of wine.  Elladan was manning the shelves, looking for an interesting read.

      ~Could we find anything here about the condition of those curious elves, you think?~ he asked.

      ~We're all of us well-traveled,~ said Estel, ~And have never run across this malady before.  Perhaps they are exceptional.~

      ~I can still remember their eyes,~ Elrohir said wistfully, ~There was no light in them at all.~

      ~There is little else that differs them from you and me,~ said Arwen, ~They are strange, yes, but it can be attributed to their captivity.  I just do not understand the bodily changes.  I did not know that could be done.~

      ~There is only just one other time,~ said Estel gravely, ~In the making of the orcs.~

      ~Well they may seem distraught,~ reflected Elladan, ~But hardly evil.  They've even crafted a civilization in there.  With a leader, and education, and families and children.~

      ~I cannot imagine how they lived,~ said Arwen, ~That place is as dark as it is dead.~

      ~One wonders what they ate, what they drank,~ said Elrohir, ~How they found the heart.~

      ~Many did not,~ said Estel, ~Many of them perished.  Legolas is taking their remains to Ithilien, I believe.  I'm not quite sure how he plans to go about it, but he was resolute that they not be left.~

      ~Understandably,~ said Elladan, ~You know, he can be haughty but he is also very sentimental.~

      ~I'm not sentimental,~ said Elrohir, ~And I wouldn't leave them there either.~

      ~Oh but you are,~ Estel teased, trying to search for lighter ground.

      ~I wish ada were here,~ said Elladan, ~He would have the answers, he always has.~

      ~Or if he didn't,~ chuckled Elrohir, ~He made a rather excellent and reassuring impression of it.~

      The door to the library opened, and in stormed Faramir, dusted from his ride to the city from his own seat in Ithilien.  Aragorn, seeing the steward's face, immediately stood up to receive him.

      "My lord," Faramir said, bowing curtly, "I bring news from Ithilien.  It is for Legolas, but… but he is yet to return and I thought it prudent to inform you."

      "What happened?" Aragorn asked, searching Faramir's face.

      "The elves of Ithilien keep correspondence with their kin in the other realms from which they came," Faramir said quickly, "One amongst them is of course, Eryn Lasgalen.  As our messenger traveled to their borders, he was hurriedly accosted by an elf-woman, who told him not to enter the kingdom for it has been taken."

      "Taken?" Aragorn gasped, "by whom?"

      "She wishes to speak with Legolas, sire," said Faramir, "But I brought her here with me to see you."

      Aragorn turned towards the door, and a beautiful, old, elf-woman appeared there, her worried eyes underlined by the strength and wisdom of her years.  Her clothes were curiously weathered, although there was a regal air to her that could not be shaken by her age, or all the ages of the world that passed and surrounded her.

      ~Who are you?~ Aragorn asked.

      ~My name is Andrada,~ she replied coolly, ~Where in all of Arda is that flighty son of Thranduil's?~

* * *

Road to Ithilien

3023

* * *

      Thundering horse hooves often signaled to those who heard them in some way or other.  There was the determined strides of the war, the lighter pounding of a race between friends, or the harried thundering of desperate urgency.  Perhaps they all sounded the same and it was all just madness.  Either way, Legolas heard the footfalls of a rider, unfortunately feeling like the latter.

      He halted the horse he and Gimli shared, just as Elladan emerged from the wood.

      ~Leholas!~ he said breathlessly.

      ~What happened?~ Legolas asked at once, ~Is it Estel?~

      ~Not this time,~ Elladan said, wincing at the barb that he did not have the strength to resist, ~Let these soldiers of yours return to Ithilien.  I was tasked with accosting you upon this road.  Ride with me to Minas Tirith.  You have a visitor.  Her name is Lady Andrada.~

      Legolas nodded, and turned towards Serafin, ~Lead them back to Ithilien.~

      Searfin's brows furrowed; the Mirkwood prince has not left his sight since he assigned himself to the royal's guard.  But he was also loyal enough not to argue so seriously-given an order.  He nodded, and bowed curtly as he moved with the party of soldiers and the cart of bones.

      Elias lingered uncertainly, and Elladan looked up at him sharply, ~You will want to go with us.~

      Legolas itched to ask what that meant, but he was also only too eager to ride to Minas Tirith to find out for himself.  He tugged upon Arod's reins, and he led the way.  Behind him followed Elias, Haldir and Elladan.  Gimli's grip tightened about his waist, as they drove through the land in a blur.

* * *

      Lady Andrada, Legolas thought, as the scenes of Gondor passed them by in a haze of colors and indistinct lines.

      The last time he had seen her was in the 2800's.  She was incredibly beautiful, and also incredibly in love with his father.  In his youth, the talk of the kingdom was that she died in her sleep and she was the ghost of Mirkwood, a heartbroken wanderer.  He once got lost and it was she who found him, and it was like coming across an angel.

      In more ways than one, when he was older, the same thing happened too.  He was lost, and she found him.  He was accused of his older brother's murder, and the kingdom was in the brink of a takeover because his father was perceived as biased and unwilling to pursue justice and punishment by subjecting his favorite son Legolas to a trial.  One night, he was forcibly taken from his cell and brought to the forest by a group of renegade old veterans who had been his father's closest friends, where she was awaiting him. 

* * *

Mirkwood, the 2800's

* * *

      ~You already know of the rumors that have been spread about you,~ said Andrada, ~They are constantly fed by other elves, who know that as long as he lives, Thranduil will never see your execution through.  That as long as he draws breath, Thranduil will not see you harmed.  They want the King to appear weak, and to seem as if he does not properly dispel justice.  They want to usurp him and claim the throne for themselves… Your death removes you completely as a lever to be used against Thranduil.  You are his sole weakness, Legolas.  If you are gone, those who seek to usurp him will be silenced.~

      ~We will say you tried to flee,~ said one of the old veterans, ~And was killed in the attempt to recapture you.~

* * *

Road to Minas Tirith

3023

* * *

      They gave him a potion that created a death-like sleep, one that Andrada not only made, but used herself, years and years before. 

      ~What were you escaping from?~ Legolas had asked her.

      ~Your father,~ she replied ruefully, making him wonder why

      Just as he wondered now what grave tidings could have pressed her to return after being isolated in the Mirkwood forests for so long.

      Legolas rode harder.  He could not get to the White City soon enough.

TO BE CONTINUED…

SOME NOTES, THANKS AND REPLIES

On the Forgotten Elves.  Okay so now you know they eat each other, eh? The answers on why will come in the next chapter, of course! :) THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR TIME and 'til the next post!!!

Thanks to my reviewers: tychen, insanechildfanfic, port, gwyn, deana, elvendancer, MSL, jenzy, starlit hope, silvertongue, dragonfly, stoneage woman, platy, pigborn, kit cloudkicker, sodalite and Po-Pla, AND ALL WHO READ!!! :)

To Po-Pla: not much Sari in this story I'm afraid… I thought of it and played with the idea, but I was already having a hard time juggling the great amount of characters at the start.  We'll see if inspiration strikes but in the meantime, the fic will be an adventure revolving around Legolas, Estel, Gimli, Haldir and Elrond's twins.

To sodalite: I don't think that was me :) Well I hope my cannibalistic elves are not such a long shot.  The reason why they turned out this way is coming along in my next chapter :)

Kit Cloudkicker: It wasn't directly stated, but the missing elves have just been eaten.  Wild, eh?

To Platy and Stoneage Woman: Oh thanks for catching that typo! I guess if I'm going to put in a barrage of OC's, I'd better make the names more distinct, lest I end up confusing myself, haha :)

To dragonfly and starlit hope: your suspicions have proven true! And the answers to your questions will come in the next chapter :)

To jenzy: oh yes, it would be fun to slaughter her, haha.  I thik it made for amusing table discussion between friends though, haha :)

To Port: I suppose Teresa is about nine years older now, more of a woman and more comfortable in her own skin.  But I also believe that your points are also very sensible.  I did make her out to be more than a bit more hesitant in "Escape."  Thank you for your observation and I'm really glad you appreciate my work and pay attention to my lil' ol' OC's :)

Original Character Guide:

Lesandro was the much-beloved heir to Mirkwood and Legolas' older brother, until he was murdered in the 2800's. 

Legardo is Legolas' younger brother, and was the murderer of Lesandro, as Legolas finds out in "Exile."  He tries to kill Legolas too, but fails and is imprisoned.

Lord Sala is the cowardly but opportunistic Mirkwood politician who tried to take the throne from King Thranduil by accusing Legolas of Lesandro's murder.

Lady Andrada is an old elf woman who fell in love with Thranduil but staged her own death to escape her unreturned love and subsequent despair in Mirkwood.  She staged Legolas' death as well, to keep him from being a pawn in Sala's ambitions.

Dalsegno is actually Estel/Aragorn.  In "Escape" he loses his memory and is given a new name after an orphanage gives him shelter.  Once in awhile, those who knew him under this name still refer to him in this way.

Cecilia is the old woman in charge of the "Escape" orphanage.  Biggles and Damien are her aides.  These three characters will not be appearing in "Return."

Sari is an elf of Lothlorien and was Arwen's betrothed centuries before she met Estel.  He was a celebrated soldier, until he was captured by orcs and was a slave to them for hundreds of years.  In 3014, he is found and complicates Estel and Arwen's life in "Escape."  He eventually falls in love with a human woman named Teresa.

Teresa is Sari's wife, and was also an occupant of Cecilia's orphanage, another character of "Escape."

Serafin is the loyal Mirkwood soldier who follows Legolas to Ithilien.  He makes his debut in "Return."

Esse and Mical are Mirkwood brothers and eccentric geniuses who followed Legolas to Ithilien, also introduced in "Return."  Esse is the Royal Gardener and Mical is the Royal City Planner.

Elias – one of the Forgotten elves, the first one whom Legolas and company find.

Torres – the leader of the Forgotten elves

Yasmina – Torres' beloved wife, also one of the Forgotten elves