Hello!!!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.
Rating: pg just in case
HEY Im just the author of this fanfic. You see, the author doesn't write the story, the story writes you. Haha, ya. Anywho
Description: This is a hard one, um it takes place during the Fellowship of the Ring. It has different points of view from the different fellowship member and scenes that were not in the book or movie. Ya, youll get it when u read it.
Please read and review!
The horse hooves hit the hard earth with each gallop, sending up clouds of dust. Legolas had been riding alone, despite Thranduil's warning to travel in numbers. What possibly could have caused that was perhaps the fact that he was completely shrouded by body guards and he hated that feeling. In order to enjoy himself, he decided to go out alone to Imladris. Legolas took only a few stops and his going was quick, the swift pace of the horse carrying him like the wind. His hair was flailing behind him, and his face was eager for the adventure. His eyes were ever watchful, however, for that little creature hunched over, snarling. His eyes contained many years of malice that had been building up inside of him and he had escaped most recently from the Mirkwood dungeons, where Aragorn the ranger had ordered him to be kept many years before.
Legolas was still young, despite his three thousand, one hundred years, in those days. He was only yearning for excitement, and did not yet grasp the dread of battle, as Thranduil had never permitted much fighting. He had only been in a battle twice before- once around fifty years ago, over the treasure of the dragon of Smaug that was shot down by Bard of Dale, and once when he was a small lad, who had somehow managed to filter his way into the ranks. Of course, he had been in small skirmishes that he could hardly consider battles- against orcs, against intruders- all sorts of things. Nothing had he yet done that prepared him for what would lie ahead.
He continued on his road, and as he did so, his heart grew heavy. Twice through his visions had he caught glimpses of riders clothed in black, upon their dark steeds with eyes that had long ago been turned toward evil. Both times had made him shudder. Soon more visions erupted within his mind and many times he cried out in horror. He was beginning to realize what Thranduil had meant by 'traveling alone.'
'Legolas, I know you will do well on this journey I have sent you on, but you must not travel alone. The darkness has grown, my son, and I can feel it in my bones. It would lift a great weight off of my shoulders to know that once again I will hear your laughter within this forest, to see you safe and sound. What lies out there is worse than Gollum and a few orcs, and I fear that you will find out what I speak of very soon. Make haste, but be cautious. Do not travel alone...'
The elf shook his head. Nonsense! Complete nonsense! He grimaced, however, when he felt the guilt rise up within him. If it would have made Thranduil feel better, he could have taken one guard with him at least. He shook his head. He was coming close to Imladris and wished not to think of it anymore.
It was early morning when he had arrived at the borders of Imladris. The air was humid about him and the sun had just risen up, creating a luminous glow to the mist that was hanging over the land. Smiling to himself, he rode into the realm, busying himself with a song or two. When the road had broken free of the trees, Legolas found that he was staring off a sheer cliff into a sun filled valley. There the mist was still lingering very lightly, but only added to the beauty of the place. Small, cottage-like houses were plopped here and there, some near the cliff's edge all around the valley, on every ledge that could be found, others near waterfalls and some down quite a ways to the forest at the bottom.
Nearby, there was a small house, or rather a little lookout post within a tree, and soon the elf's curiosity took the best of him as he strutted his horse over to it. Tilting his head back he called up, "Hello!" He swung around at the first sound of a bow creaking from behind him.
"What are you doing?" the voice asked roughly, pushing him aside. "I have business to do."
"So have I. Goodday to you." As he began to walk forward, the elf eyed his suspicious clothing and ordered, "Halt! I can see by your attire that you do not reside here! What is your business in these parts?"
"I have a message from the King Thranduil for the Lord of Rivendell. Could you show me where his castle is located?"
"Follow me Mr-" he paused. "I'll need to have your name."
"Legolas. It means-"
"Greenleaf in Sindarin. Yes I know. Come this way Legolas."
The houses grew more in plenty the further they followed the road, along the side of the cliff. They seemed to be slightly descending into the valley, but only slightly, until finally the guard halted not even a third of the way down. Legolas dismounted (the guard had walked beside him) and his horse was brought to well kept stables. "Here is his home."
The house was large and beautiful. It was of polished marble, white with grey swirls. Flowered vines draped themselves about the place in a welcoming manner and many other blossoms greeted them amidst green grasses and trees of the gardens. A little stream was running near it and the sun reflected off of it in just a way that it cast little rainbows upon the stone steps. As they ascended them, passing pillars of well-carved manners, they noticed that a tall man was standing at the door, admiring the view that the front of the house faced across the cliff. He had a medium brown hair that hung to his shoulders, neatly trimmed and his eyes were of a gray. He was wearing riding attire, not surprisingly wearing a thin traveler's coat of mail underneath. He had both a sword and a royal horn at his side and he looked up as they came.
The two passed him and went into the home, where they were greeted by many more servants, many, Legolas noticed, were maidens. His traveler's cloak, which he no longer needed, was taken as were his weapons. Legolas, however, refused to hand over the dagger that his father had given him on his one hundredth birthday. In fact, he did not even bother to tell them about it. He just tucked it within his riding boot. Then, he continued following the guard into a sitting area, a cool breeze wafting from the lightly curtained windows. The curtains were white and sheer and blowing in the fresh, cool air, along with a little bit of sunlight.
"I will bring Lord Elrond here in a moment," the guard said.
"Oh, no rush," replied Legolas, who was immediately brought a glass of wine by an elf maiden. The guard rolled his eyes in annoyance and disappeared down a long hallway.
The house was shady and cool from the humidity and was well equipped for such times. A pitcher of water was placed beside the couch he was placed upon, alongside two clear glasses. The intricate couch was of rare design and the entire room was richly furnished with portraits, wooden tables and chairs. One portrait particularly caught his eye and his mouth fell in awe at her beauty. It was of an elven maiden, her face so fair and her hair so dark, but her eyes bright like stars. Her lips were a pink and her skin was a glowing white. She was radiant in her royal white dress and she looked content.
"That is my daughter Arwen," a voice said from behind him.
Legolas turned in surprise to find an elf tall but grave, old but young, fair but troubled. He was clad in white and his hair was dark as well. His eyes were also bright, but not as bright as Arwen's were. He said gently, "How may I be of assistance Legolas?"
"I-I've an important message from my king Thranduil-"
Elrond's eyes glittered and he said, "You mean your father?"
"Well," Legolas paused. "I did not wish to draw attention to royalty. I would have said I was a prince if I had known that you had already known yourself."
Elrond laughed and said brightly, "I suppose I can understand what you mean. Now what is your message?"
"Oh," Legolas stopped. How was it that Thranduil had said to deliver the message?
'Do not be impatient Legolas. The time will come for the right moment. Do not be hasty in leaving! And do not fear to provide information, for we have nothing to hide. Delaying is not thought of kindly, and will only let the creature escape further. Do not be fresh in your replies, and do not be too calm either. Being a messenger for a king may be harder than being the king yourself. If the message is not delivered right, it may be taken the wrong way...'
Confused, Legolas blurted out, "Gollum escaped. We chased him up a tree but he still got away." He cringed. Could that be considered hasty?
"This is grievous news to me." Elrond stated, very slowly pacing to and fro. "Indeed very grievous news to me. And even more so to my son, who I daresay has spent long enough trying to capture that beast."
"You mean Aragorn?" Legolas paused. "Would you consider that fresh?"
Elrond laughed lightly and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come, you look weary. We will speak more of this later. Right now, I am welcoming you into Rivendell, my home and yours for now. Come with me onto the porch. I have several people who I think you would like to meet very much."
Curious, Legolas followed him. As the double doors were opened, Legolas smiled at the view that was held in front of him. He could see one of the waterfalls next to him, and the streams and houses down below in the valley. He could see much from where he stood, including the looming snow covered peak of Carahdras in the distance. "It is amazing," he commented. Elrond smiled and said he had some things to get done and he would return later. Then he went back into the home. Legolas looked over at the guests sitting all around. The first he saw, he cried in joy, "Mithrandir! Mithrandir!" And he ran to embrace the old wizard. Mithrandir laughed, before Legolas noticed four odd beings he had never encountered before.
They were short and chubby, with big hairy feet and squat little noses. Their cheeks were rosy and Legolas bit his lip to keep himself from laughing at the site of them. "And you are-?"
"Hobbits of the Shire. I am Merry and this is Pippin," replied the creature.
"I am Legolas of Mirkwood." To his surprise, the two hobbits bowed clumsily and held out their hands to shake with his. Legolas smiled and gave his hand to them. He passed the other two hobbits who were deep in a conversation. Then he looked over at the others that were sitting around there. The next he saw he had briefly encountered before and smiled brightly. "Aragorn! It has been a long while!" He paused. 'Do not be hasty...' Perhaps now was not the time to share the terrible news of the Gollum creature's escape.
"Hello Legolas," he said in reply, but did not mention the creature. He was smiling and sitting next to the elf that was in the portrait, Arwen.
Legolas turned his gaze away, not wanting to disturb her. "Hello." He said clumsily.
"Hello," she replied, her voice fair and sweet like music.
Looking at the next person to greet, Legolas paused. A dwarf...
The dwarf did not seem to be making eye contact either. He was a very old dwarf, but he looked glad at the fact that he would be visiting Rivendell. Why was a dwarf staying with elves? To his side, there sat another dwarf. He was younger, his face bearded with sparkling eyes as well. He looked quite ready for an adventure. He apparently was more outspoken than the older dwarf and said, "I overheard where you're from."
"Mirkwood?" asked Legolas.
The old dwarf shuddered slightly and laid a hand on the younger's shoulder. "Gimli, let us not-"
"Most despicable place I've ever heard of."
Legolas glared at him. "Why would you say such a thing!? You've never seen it! Someone like you would not be welcomed there!"
Aragorn looked up from his conversation with Arwen with much interest. Then he whispered something to Arwen, and she lightly laughed. It was probably of the long held feud between elves and dwarves...
The older dwarf introduced, "I am Gloin, and this is my son Gimli."
"Nice to meet you," mumbled the prince.
Gimli replied, "Not nice to meet you-"
"Stupid dwarf-"
"Gimli," interrupted Gloin. "Perhaps here is not the time to settle a feud."
Legolas took the only empty seat left, next to Gimli, but crossed his arms in a sulk, trying to force away all thoughts of dwarves and think about the beauty of Rivendell. Finally, he decided it was not working, as Gimli kept glaring at him and he kept glaring at Gimli. "Who was that man standing at the door? Gray eyes? A horn at his side?" he asked, to change the subject.
"Boromir of Gondor," answered Gloin. "He is the son of the steward Denethor."
Gimli apparently was not that forgiving to receive small talk from a Mirkwood elf. "You do know who my father is, do you not? Gloin? One of the twelve dwarves and one hobbit that set out within your realm- those that you threw in a prison for a month when all they wanted was a bit of food."
"We are not that cruel, Gimli son of Gloin..."
"Well your- king- locked them up and when he heard what they were doing he sent an entire army out after them, starting the battle of the five armies. I think you were quite capable of it."
"I was at the battle of the five armies," replied Legolas. "I fought alongside my father- who is in fact the king!"
"Oh, are you planning on locking me in prison because you want gold too?"
Legolas tried to draw his bow, but realized that it had been taken from him at the door. His thoughts drifted to the dagger, but he only wanted to threaten, not kill. Besides, no blood had ever been spilled by his dagger, nor had there been any threat toward someone by it. It was special to him... Finally, he answered, "Yes I am! And you'd well deserve it! I could use a bit of gold, now couldn't I?"
Gloin stood to his feet. "See now, young elf."
Legolas smiled, young...How much they did not yet know. At three thousand, one hundred years of age he was far from young. Perhaps young to his own people he was, but not compared to many other creatures of Middle Earth.
"I do not have tolerance for such remarks-"
"And neither do I," said Mithrandir, cutting in. "Hold your tongue, both Gimli son of Gloin and Legolas son of Thranduil or I will turn you both into frogs."
One of the hobbits was the only one who laughed (later to be addressed as Sam Gamgee).
Legolas groaned before retreating into the house. He did want to meet that Boromir of Gondor, did he not? While he was walking through it he felt peaceful, as if all dread of the black riders in his visions had disappeared from him. He came to the front door and approached the man.
The man turned around reluctantly and introduced himself. "I am Boromir son of Denethor, the steward of Gondor."
"Pleasure to meet you." Legolas said brightly. "I am Legolas of Mirkwood." When the man did not reply, he tried to make some sort of small talk. "So, is this your first trip to Imladris?"
"Yes, it is."
"Mine too. But I have met Elrond before, well, I've seen him..."
"Interesting." Then he turned his gaze back toward the view.
"So what are you here for?"
"Do you mind?" Boromir asked sharply. Then he shook his head. "Forgive me elf, I am troubled."
"Forgiven." Legolas replied. "What ails you?"
Boromir shook his head. "I am not open enough to speak of it with you now."
Legolas answered, "I understand." Then he said, "You must live in Minas Tirith?"
"Yes, that is where I dwell with my father and brother Faramir."
"Interesting." Legolas grinned.
Boromir laughed and said, "You certainly are lifting my spirits Legolas."
Legolas laughed back until the two fell silent. "Have you met the others yet?" he finally asked.
"Yes, I have, but only briefly. When I arrived last night it was very late and I was tired. This morning I was not in the mood really."
"How about that dwarf?" asked Legolas.
"Gimli I believe his name was," said Boromir. "I do not know. What about him?"
"Most insulting thing I've ever laid eyes on. I was just wondering if he didn't like me and perhaps-" he shook his head. "Oh, nevermind. I suppose it doesn't matter. My father always warned me about dwarves...Should have listened... Did you meet Mithrandir?"
"Mithrandir?"
"Well, some call him Gandalf the Grey."
"Yes, yes I have, a very long time ago I met him in Minas Tirith. The most intriguing guest I have met are those little- hobbits did they say they were?"
Legolas shrugged. "I suppose. Funny little fellows, they are."
"Little is putting it nicely."
Legolas laughed. "Well, I suppose I started out bad upon all of them, arguing with a dwarf as soon as I got there. Better go back and get on their good side."
"I will come with you my friend."
The two went into the house, not speaking to each other, but merely looking happy. They came out onto the porch and Aragorn stood to his feet. "Boromir, there you are, I was wondering where you'd got to."
Boromir smiled lightly. "Yes..." But his eyes kept flickering to the sword of Narsil at Aragorn's waist, tucked neatly into its sheath.
Gloin and Gimli were glaring at Legolas and Legolas merely glared back. He stood there, watching the conversations around him take place, falling into silence himself, before going over, sitting down and dangling his legs over the side of the cliff next to the hobbits. "Hello."
The hobbit directly next to him seemed to be looking him over, very eagerly.
Legolas raised a brow and asked, "Are you alright Mr. Hobbit?"
The hobbit looked embarrassed and muttered something about elves.
The hobbit next to him said, "I feel terrible. I have not introduced myself. I see you have already met Merry and Pippin, but I'm Frodo Baggins."
"Pleasure Mr. Baggins."
"I'm Sam Gamgee." Sam said delightedly. "And it's not that I'm crazy or anythin'. It's just that I've always wanted ter see the elves, and now that I'm here I can't get enough of them!"
Legolas laughed. "Well, ask me anything you want about elves. I am one."
"I could tell by your ears sir. And your eyes! And your hair-" Then he grew red and said, "I suppose that was outspoken, describing you and all."
"Not at all Mr. Gamgee." Legolas smiled. "First time in Rivendell I take it?"
"Yes sir!"
"Well, it's mine too."
Sam looked baffled. "But you're an elf!"
"I come from Mirkwood," replied the prince.
"Oh, that's right..."
The five suddenly fell quiet, not knowing what else was to be said. Back at home, the hobbits would have made all sorts of jokes and talk, but with an elf, everything seemed different, almost as if it was more enjoyable to just relax around him. Legolas hated silence, although it came often and sang softly in his own tongue of Sindarin.
Frodo smiled. "Sam do you remember those elves we met in the Shire?" he closed his eyes in remembrance.
"Yes Mr. Frodo," replied Sam. "First elves I ever saw. Nicest folk too!"
"Doesn't Legolas of Mirkwood remind you of them?"
"In the shire?" Legolas felt his heart skip a beat. "Were they of Mirkwood? Were they going to the havens?"
"Havens?" Pippin asked, perplexed. "No, I don't believe they were."
"I wish I could have seen them." Merry said quietly.
"I think they were going to the sea." Sam said happily, before studying Legolas again. "Where's your bow and arrows Legolas?"
"Lord Elrond's servants took them at the door. Word must have reached them that my temper often leads to their use." His eyes glittered with mischief and youth, but then he shook his head. "Where are your bow and arrows Sam?"
Sam grew red again at the sound of an elf calling him by his first name and replied, "Well Legolas, I've never really used one before."
"While we're here in Rivendell, perhaps I could teach you."
"Wow Legolas! An elf teaching me archery!" Sam grinned widely. "Did you hear that Mr. Frodo?"
Frodo smiled back and then sighed in the warmth of the morning sun. It was all so peaceful. The pain in his shoulder was almost completely forgotten now. Just the night before he had still been ill from the blade. Tonight there was to be a great feast planned for him. He suddenly remembered something and leapt to his feet, running into the house. "Lord Elrond!" he shouted, forgetting that Rivendell was much different than the Shire. "Lord Elrond!" He tripped and fell onto his face, looking up to find Elrond holding out his hand to him. "Whatever is the matter Frodo? You really shouldn't be running with that wound of yours."
Frodo let him help him up. "I know it should be gone, all of this burden in your home, I feel awful. But what conclusion have you come to?" He fiddled with the ring in his pocket.
Elrond bit his lip, not even guessing, but knowing. "Oh, you mean- that- burden." (referring to the ring) "I am holding a council tomorrow morning. You are invited to join us, in fact I urge you to. But tonight, feast and rest up!"
"Thank you," replied the hobbit with slight satisfaction. Then Elrond left to tend to some sort of matter. When Frodo returned to the porch, he could see Legolas laughing softly and Sam telling him some sort of story. As he approached, he realized it was from the Shire. He smiled, remembering the homey feeling of Bag End and of his days with Bilbo, when he used to cook him meals and read to him and sing. Oh how he missed Bilbo! How he used to tell of his adventures and things. The Shire seemed so close and yet so far within his memories. At times he felt he could reach out and touch, and yet when he tried it would disappear from his vision, seeming only like a passing dream or long forgotten fairy tale. After a moment of daydreaming, he snapped back into reality at the mention of the Prancing Pony.
"-and Frodo put the ring on and disappeared! Everyone, 'cludin' me were a little surprised. That was the same night we met Strider."
"Strider?" inquired Legolas.
"Or- Aragorn as I just heard him called."
Legolas laughed. "Why, may I ask, have you given him the name Strider?"
"The folks in Bree call him that. 'He's one o' them dirty rangers' they used to say. 'suspicious folk.'"
Overhearing, Aragorn said loudly, "I suppose I am one of those dirty rangers, am I Sam?" Seeing Sam's face turn red, he laughed. "I do not mind."
As the hobbits resumed their conversation with Legolas, Arwen took Aragorn by the arm and whispered, "I am so glad you are home. Come, let us speak alone of the days and become acquainted once more."
Aragorn smiled warmly at her as they disappeared into the house, unnoticed by anyone. "Estel, I cannot help but feel dread at what may await you."
"Dread?" asked Aragorn.
"You being the king and all. It just seems so much to ask of one man. You know, conquering the dark forces, becoming a ranger, whatever strange thought led to that..."
"Hush, that one was the Lord Elrond's idea." Then he smiled at her and continued, "You should feel no dread my lady. Good will come."
Arwen leaned her head against his chest and the two stood there, speaking softly of all that had happened during Aragorn's absence until finally they heard the sound of one clearing their throat. Arwen lifted her head and Aragorn turned, slightly surprised. "Lord Elrond," he greeted.
"Hello Estel," he said with a strangely cold air to his voice.
Aragorn, sensing this, backed away from Arwen. "We were getting caught up. It has been so long-"
"I think I should leave you two alone." Arwen said brightly. "I have the need to speak with those strange short creatures." Then she strode quickly out onto the porch.
Aragorn suddenly felt young again as he faced the half-elven in front of him, very young. "Ada, I have not yet had the chance to ask you. What is to become of- you know?"
"You mean the ring?" Elrond raised a brow. "Aragorn, now is not the time to change the subject." Then he smiled. "Dear Estel, how I have missed you in my home. No one ever does such mortal things anymore, like changing the subject, waking up screaming from nightmares, too much curiosity, shouting, disobeying-"
"I suppose you don't receive that from Elrohir and Elladan anymore since I left do you?" asked Aragorn.
Elrond shook his head, a sad tone coming into his voice. "In fact, after you left, they are barely around..."
"Where are they now?"
He hesitated. "They are out with a few rangers hunting orcs."
"Why?"
"There's that curiosity." Elrond stated. "They are looking for Celebrian."
"Oh," Aragorn paused. He had heard such stories about Celebrian's capture. He knew that Celebrian was Elrond's wife many years before. "Ada, it has been so many years-"
"They still have some hope." Elrond shook his head. "Never you mind where the twins are. They should be back soon enough."
The two fell into a deep silence before Aragorn continued. "I can still smell the sweet aroma of feasts and the days when the times were better Ada."
"My son," said Elrond, "One day you will smell the feasts and have the best times in your own castle at Minas Tirith."
Aragorn smiled grimly. "I hope you are right."
"Hope?" Elrond said lightly. "Of course there is hope. Remember? That is why I chose the name Estel."
*~* This is the end of chapter one. I hope you liked it! Please read and review! If there are mistakes or something that my writing lacks let me know or if there's something you like let me know.
Ok, that chapter was probably really long. I hope you enjoyed it though. Have a nice day!
Rating: pg just in case
HEY Im just the author of this fanfic. You see, the author doesn't write the story, the story writes you. Haha, ya. Anywho
Description: This is a hard one, um it takes place during the Fellowship of the Ring. It has different points of view from the different fellowship member and scenes that were not in the book or movie. Ya, youll get it when u read it.
Please read and review!
The horse hooves hit the hard earth with each gallop, sending up clouds of dust. Legolas had been riding alone, despite Thranduil's warning to travel in numbers. What possibly could have caused that was perhaps the fact that he was completely shrouded by body guards and he hated that feeling. In order to enjoy himself, he decided to go out alone to Imladris. Legolas took only a few stops and his going was quick, the swift pace of the horse carrying him like the wind. His hair was flailing behind him, and his face was eager for the adventure. His eyes were ever watchful, however, for that little creature hunched over, snarling. His eyes contained many years of malice that had been building up inside of him and he had escaped most recently from the Mirkwood dungeons, where Aragorn the ranger had ordered him to be kept many years before.
Legolas was still young, despite his three thousand, one hundred years, in those days. He was only yearning for excitement, and did not yet grasp the dread of battle, as Thranduil had never permitted much fighting. He had only been in a battle twice before- once around fifty years ago, over the treasure of the dragon of Smaug that was shot down by Bard of Dale, and once when he was a small lad, who had somehow managed to filter his way into the ranks. Of course, he had been in small skirmishes that he could hardly consider battles- against orcs, against intruders- all sorts of things. Nothing had he yet done that prepared him for what would lie ahead.
He continued on his road, and as he did so, his heart grew heavy. Twice through his visions had he caught glimpses of riders clothed in black, upon their dark steeds with eyes that had long ago been turned toward evil. Both times had made him shudder. Soon more visions erupted within his mind and many times he cried out in horror. He was beginning to realize what Thranduil had meant by 'traveling alone.'
'Legolas, I know you will do well on this journey I have sent you on, but you must not travel alone. The darkness has grown, my son, and I can feel it in my bones. It would lift a great weight off of my shoulders to know that once again I will hear your laughter within this forest, to see you safe and sound. What lies out there is worse than Gollum and a few orcs, and I fear that you will find out what I speak of very soon. Make haste, but be cautious. Do not travel alone...'
The elf shook his head. Nonsense! Complete nonsense! He grimaced, however, when he felt the guilt rise up within him. If it would have made Thranduil feel better, he could have taken one guard with him at least. He shook his head. He was coming close to Imladris and wished not to think of it anymore.
It was early morning when he had arrived at the borders of Imladris. The air was humid about him and the sun had just risen up, creating a luminous glow to the mist that was hanging over the land. Smiling to himself, he rode into the realm, busying himself with a song or two. When the road had broken free of the trees, Legolas found that he was staring off a sheer cliff into a sun filled valley. There the mist was still lingering very lightly, but only added to the beauty of the place. Small, cottage-like houses were plopped here and there, some near the cliff's edge all around the valley, on every ledge that could be found, others near waterfalls and some down quite a ways to the forest at the bottom.
Nearby, there was a small house, or rather a little lookout post within a tree, and soon the elf's curiosity took the best of him as he strutted his horse over to it. Tilting his head back he called up, "Hello!" He swung around at the first sound of a bow creaking from behind him.
"What are you doing?" the voice asked roughly, pushing him aside. "I have business to do."
"So have I. Goodday to you." As he began to walk forward, the elf eyed his suspicious clothing and ordered, "Halt! I can see by your attire that you do not reside here! What is your business in these parts?"
"I have a message from the King Thranduil for the Lord of Rivendell. Could you show me where his castle is located?"
"Follow me Mr-" he paused. "I'll need to have your name."
"Legolas. It means-"
"Greenleaf in Sindarin. Yes I know. Come this way Legolas."
The houses grew more in plenty the further they followed the road, along the side of the cliff. They seemed to be slightly descending into the valley, but only slightly, until finally the guard halted not even a third of the way down. Legolas dismounted (the guard had walked beside him) and his horse was brought to well kept stables. "Here is his home."
The house was large and beautiful. It was of polished marble, white with grey swirls. Flowered vines draped themselves about the place in a welcoming manner and many other blossoms greeted them amidst green grasses and trees of the gardens. A little stream was running near it and the sun reflected off of it in just a way that it cast little rainbows upon the stone steps. As they ascended them, passing pillars of well-carved manners, they noticed that a tall man was standing at the door, admiring the view that the front of the house faced across the cliff. He had a medium brown hair that hung to his shoulders, neatly trimmed and his eyes were of a gray. He was wearing riding attire, not surprisingly wearing a thin traveler's coat of mail underneath. He had both a sword and a royal horn at his side and he looked up as they came.
The two passed him and went into the home, where they were greeted by many more servants, many, Legolas noticed, were maidens. His traveler's cloak, which he no longer needed, was taken as were his weapons. Legolas, however, refused to hand over the dagger that his father had given him on his one hundredth birthday. In fact, he did not even bother to tell them about it. He just tucked it within his riding boot. Then, he continued following the guard into a sitting area, a cool breeze wafting from the lightly curtained windows. The curtains were white and sheer and blowing in the fresh, cool air, along with a little bit of sunlight.
"I will bring Lord Elrond here in a moment," the guard said.
"Oh, no rush," replied Legolas, who was immediately brought a glass of wine by an elf maiden. The guard rolled his eyes in annoyance and disappeared down a long hallway.
The house was shady and cool from the humidity and was well equipped for such times. A pitcher of water was placed beside the couch he was placed upon, alongside two clear glasses. The intricate couch was of rare design and the entire room was richly furnished with portraits, wooden tables and chairs. One portrait particularly caught his eye and his mouth fell in awe at her beauty. It was of an elven maiden, her face so fair and her hair so dark, but her eyes bright like stars. Her lips were a pink and her skin was a glowing white. She was radiant in her royal white dress and she looked content.
"That is my daughter Arwen," a voice said from behind him.
Legolas turned in surprise to find an elf tall but grave, old but young, fair but troubled. He was clad in white and his hair was dark as well. His eyes were also bright, but not as bright as Arwen's were. He said gently, "How may I be of assistance Legolas?"
"I-I've an important message from my king Thranduil-"
Elrond's eyes glittered and he said, "You mean your father?"
"Well," Legolas paused. "I did not wish to draw attention to royalty. I would have said I was a prince if I had known that you had already known yourself."
Elrond laughed and said brightly, "I suppose I can understand what you mean. Now what is your message?"
"Oh," Legolas stopped. How was it that Thranduil had said to deliver the message?
'Do not be impatient Legolas. The time will come for the right moment. Do not be hasty in leaving! And do not fear to provide information, for we have nothing to hide. Delaying is not thought of kindly, and will only let the creature escape further. Do not be fresh in your replies, and do not be too calm either. Being a messenger for a king may be harder than being the king yourself. If the message is not delivered right, it may be taken the wrong way...'
Confused, Legolas blurted out, "Gollum escaped. We chased him up a tree but he still got away." He cringed. Could that be considered hasty?
"This is grievous news to me." Elrond stated, very slowly pacing to and fro. "Indeed very grievous news to me. And even more so to my son, who I daresay has spent long enough trying to capture that beast."
"You mean Aragorn?" Legolas paused. "Would you consider that fresh?"
Elrond laughed lightly and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come, you look weary. We will speak more of this later. Right now, I am welcoming you into Rivendell, my home and yours for now. Come with me onto the porch. I have several people who I think you would like to meet very much."
Curious, Legolas followed him. As the double doors were opened, Legolas smiled at the view that was held in front of him. He could see one of the waterfalls next to him, and the streams and houses down below in the valley. He could see much from where he stood, including the looming snow covered peak of Carahdras in the distance. "It is amazing," he commented. Elrond smiled and said he had some things to get done and he would return later. Then he went back into the home. Legolas looked over at the guests sitting all around. The first he saw, he cried in joy, "Mithrandir! Mithrandir!" And he ran to embrace the old wizard. Mithrandir laughed, before Legolas noticed four odd beings he had never encountered before.
They were short and chubby, with big hairy feet and squat little noses. Their cheeks were rosy and Legolas bit his lip to keep himself from laughing at the site of them. "And you are-?"
"Hobbits of the Shire. I am Merry and this is Pippin," replied the creature.
"I am Legolas of Mirkwood." To his surprise, the two hobbits bowed clumsily and held out their hands to shake with his. Legolas smiled and gave his hand to them. He passed the other two hobbits who were deep in a conversation. Then he looked over at the others that were sitting around there. The next he saw he had briefly encountered before and smiled brightly. "Aragorn! It has been a long while!" He paused. 'Do not be hasty...' Perhaps now was not the time to share the terrible news of the Gollum creature's escape.
"Hello Legolas," he said in reply, but did not mention the creature. He was smiling and sitting next to the elf that was in the portrait, Arwen.
Legolas turned his gaze away, not wanting to disturb her. "Hello." He said clumsily.
"Hello," she replied, her voice fair and sweet like music.
Looking at the next person to greet, Legolas paused. A dwarf...
The dwarf did not seem to be making eye contact either. He was a very old dwarf, but he looked glad at the fact that he would be visiting Rivendell. Why was a dwarf staying with elves? To his side, there sat another dwarf. He was younger, his face bearded with sparkling eyes as well. He looked quite ready for an adventure. He apparently was more outspoken than the older dwarf and said, "I overheard where you're from."
"Mirkwood?" asked Legolas.
The old dwarf shuddered slightly and laid a hand on the younger's shoulder. "Gimli, let us not-"
"Most despicable place I've ever heard of."
Legolas glared at him. "Why would you say such a thing!? You've never seen it! Someone like you would not be welcomed there!"
Aragorn looked up from his conversation with Arwen with much interest. Then he whispered something to Arwen, and she lightly laughed. It was probably of the long held feud between elves and dwarves...
The older dwarf introduced, "I am Gloin, and this is my son Gimli."
"Nice to meet you," mumbled the prince.
Gimli replied, "Not nice to meet you-"
"Stupid dwarf-"
"Gimli," interrupted Gloin. "Perhaps here is not the time to settle a feud."
Legolas took the only empty seat left, next to Gimli, but crossed his arms in a sulk, trying to force away all thoughts of dwarves and think about the beauty of Rivendell. Finally, he decided it was not working, as Gimli kept glaring at him and he kept glaring at Gimli. "Who was that man standing at the door? Gray eyes? A horn at his side?" he asked, to change the subject.
"Boromir of Gondor," answered Gloin. "He is the son of the steward Denethor."
Gimli apparently was not that forgiving to receive small talk from a Mirkwood elf. "You do know who my father is, do you not? Gloin? One of the twelve dwarves and one hobbit that set out within your realm- those that you threw in a prison for a month when all they wanted was a bit of food."
"We are not that cruel, Gimli son of Gloin..."
"Well your- king- locked them up and when he heard what they were doing he sent an entire army out after them, starting the battle of the five armies. I think you were quite capable of it."
"I was at the battle of the five armies," replied Legolas. "I fought alongside my father- who is in fact the king!"
"Oh, are you planning on locking me in prison because you want gold too?"
Legolas tried to draw his bow, but realized that it had been taken from him at the door. His thoughts drifted to the dagger, but he only wanted to threaten, not kill. Besides, no blood had ever been spilled by his dagger, nor had there been any threat toward someone by it. It was special to him... Finally, he answered, "Yes I am! And you'd well deserve it! I could use a bit of gold, now couldn't I?"
Gloin stood to his feet. "See now, young elf."
Legolas smiled, young...How much they did not yet know. At three thousand, one hundred years of age he was far from young. Perhaps young to his own people he was, but not compared to many other creatures of Middle Earth.
"I do not have tolerance for such remarks-"
"And neither do I," said Mithrandir, cutting in. "Hold your tongue, both Gimli son of Gloin and Legolas son of Thranduil or I will turn you both into frogs."
One of the hobbits was the only one who laughed (later to be addressed as Sam Gamgee).
Legolas groaned before retreating into the house. He did want to meet that Boromir of Gondor, did he not? While he was walking through it he felt peaceful, as if all dread of the black riders in his visions had disappeared from him. He came to the front door and approached the man.
The man turned around reluctantly and introduced himself. "I am Boromir son of Denethor, the steward of Gondor."
"Pleasure to meet you." Legolas said brightly. "I am Legolas of Mirkwood." When the man did not reply, he tried to make some sort of small talk. "So, is this your first trip to Imladris?"
"Yes, it is."
"Mine too. But I have met Elrond before, well, I've seen him..."
"Interesting." Then he turned his gaze back toward the view.
"So what are you here for?"
"Do you mind?" Boromir asked sharply. Then he shook his head. "Forgive me elf, I am troubled."
"Forgiven." Legolas replied. "What ails you?"
Boromir shook his head. "I am not open enough to speak of it with you now."
Legolas answered, "I understand." Then he said, "You must live in Minas Tirith?"
"Yes, that is where I dwell with my father and brother Faramir."
"Interesting." Legolas grinned.
Boromir laughed and said, "You certainly are lifting my spirits Legolas."
Legolas laughed back until the two fell silent. "Have you met the others yet?" he finally asked.
"Yes, I have, but only briefly. When I arrived last night it was very late and I was tired. This morning I was not in the mood really."
"How about that dwarf?" asked Legolas.
"Gimli I believe his name was," said Boromir. "I do not know. What about him?"
"Most insulting thing I've ever laid eyes on. I was just wondering if he didn't like me and perhaps-" he shook his head. "Oh, nevermind. I suppose it doesn't matter. My father always warned me about dwarves...Should have listened... Did you meet Mithrandir?"
"Mithrandir?"
"Well, some call him Gandalf the Grey."
"Yes, yes I have, a very long time ago I met him in Minas Tirith. The most intriguing guest I have met are those little- hobbits did they say they were?"
Legolas shrugged. "I suppose. Funny little fellows, they are."
"Little is putting it nicely."
Legolas laughed. "Well, I suppose I started out bad upon all of them, arguing with a dwarf as soon as I got there. Better go back and get on their good side."
"I will come with you my friend."
The two went into the house, not speaking to each other, but merely looking happy. They came out onto the porch and Aragorn stood to his feet. "Boromir, there you are, I was wondering where you'd got to."
Boromir smiled lightly. "Yes..." But his eyes kept flickering to the sword of Narsil at Aragorn's waist, tucked neatly into its sheath.
Gloin and Gimli were glaring at Legolas and Legolas merely glared back. He stood there, watching the conversations around him take place, falling into silence himself, before going over, sitting down and dangling his legs over the side of the cliff next to the hobbits. "Hello."
The hobbit directly next to him seemed to be looking him over, very eagerly.
Legolas raised a brow and asked, "Are you alright Mr. Hobbit?"
The hobbit looked embarrassed and muttered something about elves.
The hobbit next to him said, "I feel terrible. I have not introduced myself. I see you have already met Merry and Pippin, but I'm Frodo Baggins."
"Pleasure Mr. Baggins."
"I'm Sam Gamgee." Sam said delightedly. "And it's not that I'm crazy or anythin'. It's just that I've always wanted ter see the elves, and now that I'm here I can't get enough of them!"
Legolas laughed. "Well, ask me anything you want about elves. I am one."
"I could tell by your ears sir. And your eyes! And your hair-" Then he grew red and said, "I suppose that was outspoken, describing you and all."
"Not at all Mr. Gamgee." Legolas smiled. "First time in Rivendell I take it?"
"Yes sir!"
"Well, it's mine too."
Sam looked baffled. "But you're an elf!"
"I come from Mirkwood," replied the prince.
"Oh, that's right..."
The five suddenly fell quiet, not knowing what else was to be said. Back at home, the hobbits would have made all sorts of jokes and talk, but with an elf, everything seemed different, almost as if it was more enjoyable to just relax around him. Legolas hated silence, although it came often and sang softly in his own tongue of Sindarin.
Frodo smiled. "Sam do you remember those elves we met in the Shire?" he closed his eyes in remembrance.
"Yes Mr. Frodo," replied Sam. "First elves I ever saw. Nicest folk too!"
"Doesn't Legolas of Mirkwood remind you of them?"
"In the shire?" Legolas felt his heart skip a beat. "Were they of Mirkwood? Were they going to the havens?"
"Havens?" Pippin asked, perplexed. "No, I don't believe they were."
"I wish I could have seen them." Merry said quietly.
"I think they were going to the sea." Sam said happily, before studying Legolas again. "Where's your bow and arrows Legolas?"
"Lord Elrond's servants took them at the door. Word must have reached them that my temper often leads to their use." His eyes glittered with mischief and youth, but then he shook his head. "Where are your bow and arrows Sam?"
Sam grew red again at the sound of an elf calling him by his first name and replied, "Well Legolas, I've never really used one before."
"While we're here in Rivendell, perhaps I could teach you."
"Wow Legolas! An elf teaching me archery!" Sam grinned widely. "Did you hear that Mr. Frodo?"
Frodo smiled back and then sighed in the warmth of the morning sun. It was all so peaceful. The pain in his shoulder was almost completely forgotten now. Just the night before he had still been ill from the blade. Tonight there was to be a great feast planned for him. He suddenly remembered something and leapt to his feet, running into the house. "Lord Elrond!" he shouted, forgetting that Rivendell was much different than the Shire. "Lord Elrond!" He tripped and fell onto his face, looking up to find Elrond holding out his hand to him. "Whatever is the matter Frodo? You really shouldn't be running with that wound of yours."
Frodo let him help him up. "I know it should be gone, all of this burden in your home, I feel awful. But what conclusion have you come to?" He fiddled with the ring in his pocket.
Elrond bit his lip, not even guessing, but knowing. "Oh, you mean- that- burden." (referring to the ring) "I am holding a council tomorrow morning. You are invited to join us, in fact I urge you to. But tonight, feast and rest up!"
"Thank you," replied the hobbit with slight satisfaction. Then Elrond left to tend to some sort of matter. When Frodo returned to the porch, he could see Legolas laughing softly and Sam telling him some sort of story. As he approached, he realized it was from the Shire. He smiled, remembering the homey feeling of Bag End and of his days with Bilbo, when he used to cook him meals and read to him and sing. Oh how he missed Bilbo! How he used to tell of his adventures and things. The Shire seemed so close and yet so far within his memories. At times he felt he could reach out and touch, and yet when he tried it would disappear from his vision, seeming only like a passing dream or long forgotten fairy tale. After a moment of daydreaming, he snapped back into reality at the mention of the Prancing Pony.
"-and Frodo put the ring on and disappeared! Everyone, 'cludin' me were a little surprised. That was the same night we met Strider."
"Strider?" inquired Legolas.
"Or- Aragorn as I just heard him called."
Legolas laughed. "Why, may I ask, have you given him the name Strider?"
"The folks in Bree call him that. 'He's one o' them dirty rangers' they used to say. 'suspicious folk.'"
Overhearing, Aragorn said loudly, "I suppose I am one of those dirty rangers, am I Sam?" Seeing Sam's face turn red, he laughed. "I do not mind."
As the hobbits resumed their conversation with Legolas, Arwen took Aragorn by the arm and whispered, "I am so glad you are home. Come, let us speak alone of the days and become acquainted once more."
Aragorn smiled warmly at her as they disappeared into the house, unnoticed by anyone. "Estel, I cannot help but feel dread at what may await you."
"Dread?" asked Aragorn.
"You being the king and all. It just seems so much to ask of one man. You know, conquering the dark forces, becoming a ranger, whatever strange thought led to that..."
"Hush, that one was the Lord Elrond's idea." Then he smiled at her and continued, "You should feel no dread my lady. Good will come."
Arwen leaned her head against his chest and the two stood there, speaking softly of all that had happened during Aragorn's absence until finally they heard the sound of one clearing their throat. Arwen lifted her head and Aragorn turned, slightly surprised. "Lord Elrond," he greeted.
"Hello Estel," he said with a strangely cold air to his voice.
Aragorn, sensing this, backed away from Arwen. "We were getting caught up. It has been so long-"
"I think I should leave you two alone." Arwen said brightly. "I have the need to speak with those strange short creatures." Then she strode quickly out onto the porch.
Aragorn suddenly felt young again as he faced the half-elven in front of him, very young. "Ada, I have not yet had the chance to ask you. What is to become of- you know?"
"You mean the ring?" Elrond raised a brow. "Aragorn, now is not the time to change the subject." Then he smiled. "Dear Estel, how I have missed you in my home. No one ever does such mortal things anymore, like changing the subject, waking up screaming from nightmares, too much curiosity, shouting, disobeying-"
"I suppose you don't receive that from Elrohir and Elladan anymore since I left do you?" asked Aragorn.
Elrond shook his head, a sad tone coming into his voice. "In fact, after you left, they are barely around..."
"Where are they now?"
He hesitated. "They are out with a few rangers hunting orcs."
"Why?"
"There's that curiosity." Elrond stated. "They are looking for Celebrian."
"Oh," Aragorn paused. He had heard such stories about Celebrian's capture. He knew that Celebrian was Elrond's wife many years before. "Ada, it has been so many years-"
"They still have some hope." Elrond shook his head. "Never you mind where the twins are. They should be back soon enough."
The two fell into a deep silence before Aragorn continued. "I can still smell the sweet aroma of feasts and the days when the times were better Ada."
"My son," said Elrond, "One day you will smell the feasts and have the best times in your own castle at Minas Tirith."
Aragorn smiled grimly. "I hope you are right."
"Hope?" Elrond said lightly. "Of course there is hope. Remember? That is why I chose the name Estel."
*~* This is the end of chapter one. I hope you liked it! Please read and review! If there are mistakes or something that my writing lacks let me know or if there's something you like let me know.
Ok, that chapter was probably really long. I hope you enjoyed it though. Have a nice day!