Legolas was perched on top of the blacksmith shop watching the stars and
thinking, as he often did. Mr. Brown had never been able to figure out how
he got up there, but was usually to drunk to really care. The elf often
felt so stifled by the lack of trees in the city, he hated the way the gas
lamps dimmed the starlight. He had been surprised at how different the sky
here was. But Earendil's comforting presence still shone brightly. Polaris,
the North Star, it was now called; and was still a source of comfort for
many, though Legolas alone still remembered its source. He felt so alone in
the world; no one even knew what elves were anymore. It did make it easier
to blend in when men just believed him to be a little odd; talented
perhaps, but rather eccentric, especially when it came to nature, and with
some sort of strange birth defect affecting his ears.
He missed the old Middle Earth, even at the end when all but he had left; men still knew of and respected the elves, but now. He missed the fellowship of his kin, those who understood the burden of remembering in vivid detail everything that had ever happened to you over hundreds of the life spans of men. He sighed thinking of old friends, the fellowship especially. Boromir had died so long ago, before the destruction of the One Ring. The funny ever hungry hobbits, Merry and Pippin and their particular knack for finding laughter in even the bleakest situation, dear loyal Sam true blue to the bitter end, and Frodo - the ringbearer, so strong in the grip of such evil and so broken by the end. He missed hobbits, now and then one would show up but they were usually considered birth defects and didn't come from the quaint sheltered culture with all their loveable idiosyncrasies. Then Gandalf, the occasional wizard had shown up over the years - but none as wise and powerful as Gandalf the White, the closest had been Merlin the Blue who had actually recognized him as an elf, but there had been no true Istari wizards to his knowledge for at least 2 centuries now. And Gimli - how he missed his dwarven friend, every time he crafted a hatchet or Ax he thought of the gruff old dwarf, he wondered how he was in Valinor - probably creating all sorts of disturbance among the sedate elves, unused to his bellowing voice and blustering presence, the thought made him chuckle as it always did.
Of course Aragorn, Arwen and all their children were always central in his thoughts. He knew Aragorn would never have asked him to wander forever on earth ignoring his hearts desire for Valinor, yet as much as he longed for the undying lands he could not bring himself to break from his self made vow. He didn't even know why he felt the need to stay, did he think he could restore the throne of Gondor of he waited long enough? Of course not, although he wondered for the millionth time where Isildur's heir was. He should never have missed the signs, he knew the Dunedain wanderlust was strong in the boy and yet he didn't watch, and so the line was lost to the sea. He thoughts turned to those of his son who had also followed the call of the sea, and the mother. He hadn't loved the girl, it had been an alcohol induced one night stand; but, or rather because of this, he always felt such guilt about her. To use a woman like that was entirely foreign to the elves; such relationships were saved for your bonded life mate. Then, to have her give her life in the birth of his child had only compounded his guilt. And Bill. What had ever happened to his son? The last scrap of news about him had been the note Willy had brought and it really didn't say much. "Don't blame yourself for what I've become" what did that mean? It certainly didn't bode well.
Willy, Willy had become another son to him, even taking on the name Turner. Since the boy had had completed his apprenticeship 3 years ago and gone to work in the northern colonies Legolas had again been lonely. The workshop was so quiet without the constant chatter and endless jokes, Willy reminded him of Merry and Pippin in that regard, much more pleasant than the drunken dwarf like quality of his master. Master, how he loathed calling the foul man master, he was an elf and a prince reduced to calling this alcoholic slug by a term of respect and submission. Mr. Brown hadn't made a thing in over 5 years yet was increasingly respected in Port Royale as a mater craftsman for the work his shop put out. Master craftsman my foot! The man couldn't remember the difference between Willy Turner and Will Turner - although why should he be any different than the rest of the town. Legolas had learned over the centuries that the best way to keep people from wondering about the fact that he didn't age was to remain fairly reclusive. Since Willy had gone north Legolas had taken his place as Mr. Brown's delivery boy, on top of making 99% of the orders the shop received; he noticed that most people paid very little attention to him as such and often called him Willy, this suited Legolas just fine. If they wanted to think he was the 12-year-old orphan boy that had come to town 8 years ago so be it, there would be no questions about him looking to be in his early 20s that way.
Just then he heard the drunken approach of his master, he was still several blocks away but Legolas highly doubted that anyone could escape the racket, elvish ears or no. He sighed, so much for a peaceful night, now he would have to go take care of the smelly half conscious man. He gazed back up at Elendil savoring these last few moments under the stars. Glowing ever so slightly in their light, as it had always been with the children of the stars
"Blast you Turner, stop yours a sittin up there glowin', get down here an take care o yer master" Brown slurred then tripped over his own feet and ended up face first in a mud puddle. "Your fault boy, makin me look up like that, hows a man sposed ta keep his feet when he has to look up all the dad blame time"
"Amin feuya ten' lle" [you disgust me] Legolas, who had descended from the roof, muttered as he hauled the big unwieldy man up off the street and to the living quarters behind the blacksmith shop
"What you muttering bout boy, don't sass yer elders" Brown ordered in a drunken garble, leaning heavily on the elf, his legs seeming to have forgotten the process of walking.
Legolas snorted at this, elders? Ha! He figured he was close to 5, 000 years old (he had lost track of the exact years sometime in the 3,000's) while Master Brown was in his late 50's. He found the thought to amusing to be irritating. "Deepest apologies oh wise and ancient one" he said sarcastically.
The drunk beamed, and straightening from his support against Legolas puffed out his chest a bit and strutted slightly, full of his own importance at being the "wise and ancient one"; but within 4 steps his traitorous knees made the unauthorized decision to cease functioning and he again, incomprehensively to his fogged brain, found himself on the ground. "Ow'd I get down 'ere?" he slurred
"You decided to try looking at the world from a hobbit's eye view" Legolas mocked as he picked up his 'master' and dragged the man the last few steps to his bedroom, unceremoniously dumping him on his bed.
"Right" Brown said nodding, then "huh?" as Legolas pulled his boots off, gagging at the stench. Smell was the one area where elven senses were rather more a curse than a blessing, especially around humans.
"Goodnight Master Brown" was his only reply.
~Well this chapter was supposed to be getting into the movie part but Legolas' thoughts just sort of ran away with me. I could have continued into the movie and just made it a long chapter but I wanted to post before I leave for the week. I'm hoping I may have explained a few of the questions and complaints that have been in your reviews with all these ramblings though. I am aware that the site I'm using for elvish is not entirely correct but its what I can find so its what I shall use. I am also aware that a typical apprenticeship lasted 7-11 years and I have Willy leaving after only 5, but it just seemed to work better somehow (I don't even try to understand myself at times) And just in case you get confused (which it shouldn't be a problem but you never know) because this is being written from Legolas' POV he will almost always be referred to as Legolas in the narrative, even though when being referred to or addressed in dialogue he will of course be called Will. Now to respond to reviews: *girly shriek * hehehe, it is so much fun getting all these great reviews, I never dreamed I'd get so many!! Up to 29 as I post this!
LiL PeTiTe: thanks, and I don't know, I guess loosing it in the water seemed like a plausible excuse? He was to preoccupied thinking about the kid and the letter to really think about what had happened to the missing medallion?
Gaslight: The whole blood thing kinda confused me in the movie I keep going what's so special about Will Turners blood, just cause he didn't like the mutiny what does that do to his blood line? And Elf blood seems a perfectly logical reason it's so special (The Lady Tiger also mentioned this, thanks). And Willy - yeah not terribly proud of the kid but was having the worst time trying to figure out the whole "10 year old kid in the water with the medallion but he's not Will" thing, so that was my rather weak explanation. You will notice I conveniently got rid of him in this chapter. If you really want to beta my story, sure, I can't proof read worth anything. To much of the artistic dreamer mindset to notice the finer details of punctuation and spelling. Now I just have to remember to send you chapters before I post them. And you brought up some interesting ideas that are quite tempting to take a crack at (an Elf during the black plague especially) but at this moment I'm just concentrating on this movie.
Nenya Culariel: Hopefully I answered your questions in this chapter. If not just keep in mind the primary inspiration for this was that Will and Legolas are both played by the same actor and that should keep it straight. (by the by, what does PPC stand for, I see it a lot in the LOTR stuff and I know it has to do with purists but what exactly I don't know)
Tricia: Love ya babe! HaHa, my name is Elizabeth and Thou art a Peacock!
Bec: hope I explained myself better on the subject of Legolas marrying the mother in this chapter. In general I always want people married first to, it just didn't work for my story. (If he had married the mother first that would mean he truly loved her and as an elf would not be ready to marry another girl, Elizabeth, just a generation later)
Louis, Saraqueenofallthings, Aralome Finarfin, Jamie, Esteledhel, The Lady Tiger, cassiarmp, Miss Swann, ElvenRanger13, aNoNyMoUsLy1, Kai, saiyan-girl- cheetah, Laurel Whitney, Yami Yavi-no-Lyithien, mistressofmetal, The Amber Dragon, PheonixFyre, Noia, Lasgalen (did I miss anyone?) Thank you all for your wonderful reviews!!
~Lindaleriel (Lady of Music) 7/27/03
He missed the old Middle Earth, even at the end when all but he had left; men still knew of and respected the elves, but now. He missed the fellowship of his kin, those who understood the burden of remembering in vivid detail everything that had ever happened to you over hundreds of the life spans of men. He sighed thinking of old friends, the fellowship especially. Boromir had died so long ago, before the destruction of the One Ring. The funny ever hungry hobbits, Merry and Pippin and their particular knack for finding laughter in even the bleakest situation, dear loyal Sam true blue to the bitter end, and Frodo - the ringbearer, so strong in the grip of such evil and so broken by the end. He missed hobbits, now and then one would show up but they were usually considered birth defects and didn't come from the quaint sheltered culture with all their loveable idiosyncrasies. Then Gandalf, the occasional wizard had shown up over the years - but none as wise and powerful as Gandalf the White, the closest had been Merlin the Blue who had actually recognized him as an elf, but there had been no true Istari wizards to his knowledge for at least 2 centuries now. And Gimli - how he missed his dwarven friend, every time he crafted a hatchet or Ax he thought of the gruff old dwarf, he wondered how he was in Valinor - probably creating all sorts of disturbance among the sedate elves, unused to his bellowing voice and blustering presence, the thought made him chuckle as it always did.
Of course Aragorn, Arwen and all their children were always central in his thoughts. He knew Aragorn would never have asked him to wander forever on earth ignoring his hearts desire for Valinor, yet as much as he longed for the undying lands he could not bring himself to break from his self made vow. He didn't even know why he felt the need to stay, did he think he could restore the throne of Gondor of he waited long enough? Of course not, although he wondered for the millionth time where Isildur's heir was. He should never have missed the signs, he knew the Dunedain wanderlust was strong in the boy and yet he didn't watch, and so the line was lost to the sea. He thoughts turned to those of his son who had also followed the call of the sea, and the mother. He hadn't loved the girl, it had been an alcohol induced one night stand; but, or rather because of this, he always felt such guilt about her. To use a woman like that was entirely foreign to the elves; such relationships were saved for your bonded life mate. Then, to have her give her life in the birth of his child had only compounded his guilt. And Bill. What had ever happened to his son? The last scrap of news about him had been the note Willy had brought and it really didn't say much. "Don't blame yourself for what I've become" what did that mean? It certainly didn't bode well.
Willy, Willy had become another son to him, even taking on the name Turner. Since the boy had had completed his apprenticeship 3 years ago and gone to work in the northern colonies Legolas had again been lonely. The workshop was so quiet without the constant chatter and endless jokes, Willy reminded him of Merry and Pippin in that regard, much more pleasant than the drunken dwarf like quality of his master. Master, how he loathed calling the foul man master, he was an elf and a prince reduced to calling this alcoholic slug by a term of respect and submission. Mr. Brown hadn't made a thing in over 5 years yet was increasingly respected in Port Royale as a mater craftsman for the work his shop put out. Master craftsman my foot! The man couldn't remember the difference between Willy Turner and Will Turner - although why should he be any different than the rest of the town. Legolas had learned over the centuries that the best way to keep people from wondering about the fact that he didn't age was to remain fairly reclusive. Since Willy had gone north Legolas had taken his place as Mr. Brown's delivery boy, on top of making 99% of the orders the shop received; he noticed that most people paid very little attention to him as such and often called him Willy, this suited Legolas just fine. If they wanted to think he was the 12-year-old orphan boy that had come to town 8 years ago so be it, there would be no questions about him looking to be in his early 20s that way.
Just then he heard the drunken approach of his master, he was still several blocks away but Legolas highly doubted that anyone could escape the racket, elvish ears or no. He sighed, so much for a peaceful night, now he would have to go take care of the smelly half conscious man. He gazed back up at Elendil savoring these last few moments under the stars. Glowing ever so slightly in their light, as it had always been with the children of the stars
"Blast you Turner, stop yours a sittin up there glowin', get down here an take care o yer master" Brown slurred then tripped over his own feet and ended up face first in a mud puddle. "Your fault boy, makin me look up like that, hows a man sposed ta keep his feet when he has to look up all the dad blame time"
"Amin feuya ten' lle" [you disgust me] Legolas, who had descended from the roof, muttered as he hauled the big unwieldy man up off the street and to the living quarters behind the blacksmith shop
"What you muttering bout boy, don't sass yer elders" Brown ordered in a drunken garble, leaning heavily on the elf, his legs seeming to have forgotten the process of walking.
Legolas snorted at this, elders? Ha! He figured he was close to 5, 000 years old (he had lost track of the exact years sometime in the 3,000's) while Master Brown was in his late 50's. He found the thought to amusing to be irritating. "Deepest apologies oh wise and ancient one" he said sarcastically.
The drunk beamed, and straightening from his support against Legolas puffed out his chest a bit and strutted slightly, full of his own importance at being the "wise and ancient one"; but within 4 steps his traitorous knees made the unauthorized decision to cease functioning and he again, incomprehensively to his fogged brain, found himself on the ground. "Ow'd I get down 'ere?" he slurred
"You decided to try looking at the world from a hobbit's eye view" Legolas mocked as he picked up his 'master' and dragged the man the last few steps to his bedroom, unceremoniously dumping him on his bed.
"Right" Brown said nodding, then "huh?" as Legolas pulled his boots off, gagging at the stench. Smell was the one area where elven senses were rather more a curse than a blessing, especially around humans.
"Goodnight Master Brown" was his only reply.
~Well this chapter was supposed to be getting into the movie part but Legolas' thoughts just sort of ran away with me. I could have continued into the movie and just made it a long chapter but I wanted to post before I leave for the week. I'm hoping I may have explained a few of the questions and complaints that have been in your reviews with all these ramblings though. I am aware that the site I'm using for elvish is not entirely correct but its what I can find so its what I shall use. I am also aware that a typical apprenticeship lasted 7-11 years and I have Willy leaving after only 5, but it just seemed to work better somehow (I don't even try to understand myself at times) And just in case you get confused (which it shouldn't be a problem but you never know) because this is being written from Legolas' POV he will almost always be referred to as Legolas in the narrative, even though when being referred to or addressed in dialogue he will of course be called Will. Now to respond to reviews: *girly shriek * hehehe, it is so much fun getting all these great reviews, I never dreamed I'd get so many!! Up to 29 as I post this!
LiL PeTiTe: thanks, and I don't know, I guess loosing it in the water seemed like a plausible excuse? He was to preoccupied thinking about the kid and the letter to really think about what had happened to the missing medallion?
Gaslight: The whole blood thing kinda confused me in the movie I keep going what's so special about Will Turners blood, just cause he didn't like the mutiny what does that do to his blood line? And Elf blood seems a perfectly logical reason it's so special (The Lady Tiger also mentioned this, thanks). And Willy - yeah not terribly proud of the kid but was having the worst time trying to figure out the whole "10 year old kid in the water with the medallion but he's not Will" thing, so that was my rather weak explanation. You will notice I conveniently got rid of him in this chapter. If you really want to beta my story, sure, I can't proof read worth anything. To much of the artistic dreamer mindset to notice the finer details of punctuation and spelling. Now I just have to remember to send you chapters before I post them. And you brought up some interesting ideas that are quite tempting to take a crack at (an Elf during the black plague especially) but at this moment I'm just concentrating on this movie.
Nenya Culariel: Hopefully I answered your questions in this chapter. If not just keep in mind the primary inspiration for this was that Will and Legolas are both played by the same actor and that should keep it straight. (by the by, what does PPC stand for, I see it a lot in the LOTR stuff and I know it has to do with purists but what exactly I don't know)
Tricia: Love ya babe! HaHa, my name is Elizabeth and Thou art a Peacock!
Bec: hope I explained myself better on the subject of Legolas marrying the mother in this chapter. In general I always want people married first to, it just didn't work for my story. (If he had married the mother first that would mean he truly loved her and as an elf would not be ready to marry another girl, Elizabeth, just a generation later)
Louis, Saraqueenofallthings, Aralome Finarfin, Jamie, Esteledhel, The Lady Tiger, cassiarmp, Miss Swann, ElvenRanger13, aNoNyMoUsLy1, Kai, saiyan-girl- cheetah, Laurel Whitney, Yami Yavi-no-Lyithien, mistressofmetal, The Amber Dragon, PheonixFyre, Noia, Lasgalen (did I miss anyone?) Thank you all for your wonderful reviews!!
~Lindaleriel (Lady of Music) 7/27/03
