Jebb: Yes, I think several of the characters have grown in stature.
Farflung: Oh, I wouldn't bet that Legolas never sees Hyge again. Remember that I still have fifty years to play with, and Hyge is only a boy.
Melissa: Things have been going smoothly. Please notice the past tense. (Actually, to be technical, the present-perfect progressive—love those verb charts in my textbook ^_^ ).
Arwen Undomiel: Thank you. Here's your update!
Kitsune: Complicated, and about to get even more so.
Dragonfly: I'm afraid that you will still feel that I am sadistic by the end of this story because it's another cliffie.
Joee: Aaaagh. Once again I confused the names of two Elves! Thanks for alerting me. By now the corrected version should be showing up.
Vocabulary
Eärendil—'Lover of the Sea' (a mortal, son of Tuor, spouse of Elwing, father of Elrond)
Elwing—'Star-spray' (daughter of Dior, spouse of Eärendil, mother of Elrond)
"Nad no ennas!"—"Something is out there!"
Peredhil—'Half-elven'
The next day, Thranduil developed a sudden interest in the genealogy of the Peredhil, and from then on he often asked Elladan and Elrohir to ride at the head of the column so that he might ply them with questions about their ancestors. The King asked every possible question that he could think of about the history of Eärendil and Elwing and their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents. Having exhausted that subject, he then encouraged Elladan and Elrohir to tell him of their own various adventures, whether Legolas figured in them or not. Elrohir in particular was all too glad to oblige—he had never been backward in this area!—and he held forth at length, itemizing with delight well nigh every Orc he had ever felled or Dwarf he had outwitted (the latter were few, but Elrohir was not about to let that fact get in the way of a good story). By the time the elven party drew near to Isengard, Elladan and Elrohir had become great admirers of the gracious and intelligent King of Greenwood who expressed such admiration for their exploits and those of their ancestors. Watching this, Legolas was amused and impressed. Although he did not realize it, he was also feeling much less apprehensive, for Thranduil was pulling the Rivendell Elves closer rather than pushing them away, as Legolas had feared.
The four of them were riding abreast, laughing and talking merrily, as they rode up to the stronghold of Saruman the White. Isengard looked and felt much the same to Legolas as it had the last time he had been there, save that the trees were more frightened, even cowering a little, if that were possible. Still, as he rode past, it seemed to him that they drew their trunks a trifle more erect, as if his coming reinvigorated them.
They dismounted at the base of the tower of Orthanc, where they were graciously received. They had been expected, for Thranduil had sent ahead a messenger. Servants—none of them were half-goblins, Legolas noticed—took their horses and escorted them with great ceremony into the tower. They were led to rooms where they could wash and refresh themselves, and then the servants returned and led them to the chamber in the center of the tower where Saruman had his throne. Gandalf, Legolas thought to himself, had no throne, but then he had no need of such a prop, for his grandeur came from within.
Saruman arose from his throne and bowed deeply to Thranduil, making a great show of respect and deference.
"King Thranduil, I am honored by your presence in my humble residence. To what do I owe this visit?"
Thranduil bowed in return.
"I would like to present to you my son and heir," he said proudly, "Legolas, Prince of Greenwood. He has been with Lord Elrond of Imladris, but he is now returning with me to his future realm."
He gestured for Legolas to step forward from where he stood behind Elladan and Elrohir. When Saruman caught sight of the Prince, for once in his long life the Istar was stunned, but he struggled not to show his amazement and dismay.
"King Thranduil, I have in fact met your son, although he was in another guise at the time. I was twice or thrice able to offer my hospitality to him, but I knew him as 'Anomen'."
"Yes, I believe that you have hosted my son more than once whilst he went about under that name, although Legolas has not yet told me any of the details."
"You have not yet told your father the particulars of the time you spent as my guest, Prince Legolas?"
"Your pardon, Lord Saruman, but there is much that I have not had a chance to share with King Thranduil. We have only recently been reunited. However, be sure that I shall tell him all about your actions regarding me."
Saruman's eyes narrowed. He did not like the ambiguity of that final phrase. He was also furious at how things had turned out. He had had the Prince of Mirkwood within his grasp, not once, not twice, but in fact four times, twice within the walls of Isengard itself, once in Fangorn Forest, and once when he encountered the wretched Elf in Dunland. Legolas would have been invaluable, either as a hostage or as a tool, yet he had escaped each time. Well, he would have to see whether he could still turn matters to his account. Legolas had been at Rivendell. Had Elrond been fostering him at Thranduil's request? Saruman doubted it. Legolas had been alone and in peril when he first came to Saruman's attention. Thranduil would never have sent out his son without an escort. Undoubtedly Legolas had been running away. And Elrond had harbored him. Surely Thranduil could be made to resent that fact, thus driving a wedge between his realm and Elrond's. Yes, Saruman thought, his spirits rising, he would still make use of Legolas. Who knows, if he could gain Thranduil's trust, mayhap at some point the King could be prevailed upon to hand over Legolas for 'safekeeping'. Now Saruman could only be described as gleeful, and had his guests not been present, he would have chortled and rubbed his hands together. "Anomen. Legolas. No matter. By any name, you will be mine!" exulted the wizard. Or," he added as an afterthought, "if not, I can still arrange to have you slain. 'Tis a long journey between here and Greenwood."
For now, though, he would play the perfect host. He ordered that the escort be well provided for, and as for Thranduil, Legolas, and the sons of Elrond, he summoned his cook and butler and commanded that no expense or effort be spared in their feeding and housing. That evening, after a splendid feast, each was given a sumptuously appointed room, hung with tapestries of silk and adorned with ebon wood and gold. Legolas, however, was uneasy at being separated from his father and his foster-brothers, and at the first opportunity he crept out of his chamber, knocking softly on doors until he found Elrohir's room. When Elrohir told him to enter, Legolas, to his amusement and relief, found Elladan there before him. Elladan was also relieved. He had felt a little silly slinking into his brother's room and begging leave to sleep there for the night. Now he had company in his embarrassment.
"It seems," said Elrohir loftily, "that I am the only one amongst us who would have brave enough to sleep alone in this wizard's tower."
Truth be told, Elladan's arrival had forestalled Elrohir's own plans of going in search of his brothers. He had been standing by the door trying to summon up the courage to open it when Elladan had knocked. Fortunately for Elrohir, elven vision or no, Elladan could not see through wood, else he would have been treated to the sight of his startled brother leaping back from the door, his face ashen.
Be that as it may, within short order, all three were comfortably curled up under the silken covers of the enormous bed. Legolas was the first to giggle.
"I feel like an elfling," he confessed. "Do you remember when we shared a room and would all pile into one bed after Glorfindel told us Troll stories?"
Elladan giggled, too.
"Aye, but the bed was not as big as this one. Do you remember how one of us would always end up on the floor?"
"Usually me," said Elrohir mournfully. He had always been the last to admit that he was frightened. As a result, one of his brothers would have a spot safely by the wall, the other in the middle. Having been the last to crawl into the bed, he would have to make do with a narrow strip by the edge and during the night either Legolas or Elladan would inevitably push him off. Ai! The price one had to pay for courage!
This time, however, no one fell out of bed, at least not until morning, that is. Each reassured by the presence of the others, they slept well and deeply until they were awakened by a vigorous knocking on the door several hours after the sun had risen.
"Enter," mumbled a drowsy Elrohir. "Oh, King Thranduil!"
All three at once tried to arise in order to bow to the king, but they were tangled in the bed clothes. Legolas was the first to exit the bed, for as he thrashed about trying to free his legs, he rolled over the edge. As he fell, he pulled Elladan after him. Elrohir frantically grabbed for a bed post, but, virtually tied to the others by bed linen, he too was dragged onto the floor. Thranduil was laughing outright.
"'Tis lucky these carpets are so thick, else you would be all over with bruises. I came to tell you that I have already broken fast with Saruman. You three will have to make do with the leftovers—although that will be no hardship, for the food, as well as being delicious, was more than ample. Then you may do as you please for the day, for we will not resume our journey until tomorrow. Good day!"
The young Elves were relieved that Thranduil chose to comment neither upon their unorthodox manner of exiting the bed nor upon the fact that they had been too uneasy to sleep alone in their assigned bedchambers.
Elladan and Elrohir, it was certain, were no more comfortable inside the tower than was Legolas. By mutual agreement, then, after breakfast the three young Elves spent the entire day out of doors, wandering amongst the trees of Isengard. Each tree that they passed, Legolas laid his palm upon it and murmured soothing words. The twins, however, were only glad to be out of doors, in the sunshine, and paid no mind to the trees. They hailed the members of their escort that they came across. It seems that only Thranduil remained inside, closeted with Saruman. Of course, the Great Hall was largely dolven, so mayhap Thranduil did not miss the sunshine as keenly as Elves raised in Imladris would.
Saruman was making the most of his time alone with Thranduil. He complimented him and pretended to seek his advice on various matters. Little by little he drew the conversation around to Legolas. Saruman was pleased to learn that it was true, as he had surmised, that Thranduil had not known that Legolas had been in Rivendell.
"Strange that Elrond never sent word to you. You must have suffered greatly."
"Yes, but I cannot complain. I was the cause of my own suffering."
"Your pardon, King Thranduil, but I do not see how that is so. Was not Elrond the cause of your suffering? One message from him, and your son would have been restored to you."
"Physically, yes, but that would not have put an end to my suffering. Only I could have done that. Elrond kept my son safe whilst I came to know myself better."
"Yet you do not find it presumptuous of Elrond to take it upon himself to decide whether you deserved to be the father of your own son?"
"But I did not deserve to be the father of my own son."
"Even if this were true—which I doubt—who made Elrond the judge?"
"Ah, but it was not Elrond alone. It was, in effect, a council that made the decision. Elrond, yes, but also Galadriel, Celeborn, Glorfindel, Erestor, and Mithrandir."
"Yet a council to which you were not invited. They made a decision regarding your son without even informing you of the matter at hand! Does this not strike you as extraordinary?"
"Yes, it was extraordinary, but the situation they confronted was also extraordinary. Had they called me to the council, the very matter that they wished to discuss would have been moot. No, they could have done naught else but what they did."
"But my Lord Thranduil—"
Thranduil raised his hand to interrupt, albeit gently.
"My Lord Saruman, I appreciate your concern, but, truly, I do not feel as if I have been wronged. My son has been restored to me, hale and hearty and above all happy, as he was not when under my care. He has been returned to me when I have as good a chance as any new father at securing his child's continued health and happiness."
Saruman smiled politely and dropped the topic, turning instead to the question of whether trade ties between Greenwood and Isengard could be strengthened. He needed nothing that Greenwood had to offer, but he thought it wise to continue the charade of friendship with that realm—at least as long as Thranduil and Legolas still lived. And that would not be long, he hoped. Seeing that the father was as hard to corrupt as the son, the wizard had determined that both must die. After Thranduil had excused himself to wash before the noon meal, Saruman muttered to himself, "Either you are with me, or you are—dead." Then he dismissed the Greenwood King and Prince from his mind and turned his thoughts to another matter. Thranduil had said that a 'council' had determined the fate of Legolas and that the gathering had included Mithrandir. Why had this lesser wizard, the Gray one, been invited to this council when he, Saruman the White, had not!? Why had he not been entrusted with the knowledge that the Prince of Mirkwood had been hidden in Imladris? That would have been Galadriel's doing, he suspected. He sensed that she did not trust him. But regardless of her opinion, Mithrandir at least should have told him, even if the others had not seen fit to do so. After all, in their order, he, Saruman, was the superior of Mithrandir. The Gray wizard saw fit to meddle in many matters without a by-your-leave; if he had wanted to tell Saruman, he could and would have done so regardless of Galadriel's advice.
Agitated, Saruman paced back and forth within his throne room. What else was that wretched wizard hiding from him? He had noted with interest Mithrandir's repeated visits to that pitiful Shireland, home of naught but Halflings. He was certain that something more than little people drew Mithrandir to that land. Could it be that another princeling lay hidden within its hovels? Or mayhap a great treasure? Or mayhap—a mighty treasure? Saruman had from time to time set spies upon the Shireland, but thus far he had learned little. The latest spies, three Southrons, had utterly failed in their mission. One had vanished without a trace, the other had died in a bloody accident—fell on his own sword, the dolt—and the third, who had returned to report their failure, had become Orc-food at the command of his erstwhile employer, who did not brook incompetence. Perhaps he should try again, but this time with half-goblins rather than Southrons. He had already sent one half-goblin to Bree, and he had come back to report that there were some in that village who might be suborned. Yes, he would entrust this mission to half-goblins.
Satisfied with this decision, Saruman summoned one of his servants, gave some orders regarding both Bree and the morrow's departure of his guests, and then proceeded to join Thranduil for the noon meal.
Later, when the sun had fallen, Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir reluctantly re-entered the tower and joined Thranduil and Saruman for the evening meal. During that repast, Thranduil questioned Saruman about the dangers that they would likely face on the next stage of the journey, between Isengard and Lothlórien. Saruman told him that he himself never felt in peril as he wandered through Fangorn and the lands thereabouts.
"It is long since I have been troubled by either Orcs or Wargs," the wizard reassured them blandly.
Legolas misdoubted the reason that the wizard did not feel frightened by those fell beasts. "No doubt," he thought, "it is because they are his creatures." Still, he had no cause to cast doubt upon the trustworthiness of Saruman, no proof, nothing but the certainty of his own suspicions, which to others would be no certainty at all.
The next morning, Saruman came down the steps of his tower to bid the Elves farewell.
"I hope I shall see you again soon," he said, his eyes glittering like a serpent's.
"A most gracious host, that," said Thranduil as they rode out the gate of Isengard.
Legolas said nothing.
"You did not seem to enjoy your stay in Isengard, Legolas? Why is that?"
"I do not trust Saruman. I wish Gandalf were head of the order."
"Ah, I see," said Thranduil. It was natural and commendable, he thought, that Legolas would be partial to the wizard who had mentored him. With that, he dismissed the matter from his mind.
The Elves rode for several hours without any sign of trouble. They were but an hour's ride from the border of Fangorn, and Legolas began to dare hope that Saruman would permit them to pass unmolested. Then he heard the first low moans of the trees.
"Nad no ennas!" hissed Legolas. "Something is out there!"
Thranduil looked at him doubtfully.
"Are you sure?"
"Aye, quite sure."
Soon Elladan and Elrohir sensed the danger, and at last even Thranduil knew that they were in peril.
Instinctively, Legolas now took charge, and neither Thranduil nor the twins gainsaid him. He had more knowledge of Fangorn Forest than any of them.
"Call back the scouts," commanded Legolas. "They will only be picked off."
Once the scouts had returned to the main body, Legolas ordered that all dismount and that the horses be placed in the center. Then he ordered the warriors to draw their swords.
"Two-handed grip," he commanded.
"For a long time it seemed they stood thus, the horses ringed by Elves who stood grimly gripping the hafts of their swords with both hands. The forest had fallen absolutely still, so none doubted that their enemies were close. At last they heard the rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs that betokened the near approach of their foes.
"Drop and brace," ordered Legolas.
Each warrior dropped upon one knee and braced his weapon on the other. This order was given none too soon, for the forest erupted in snarls as massive, darkly furred creatures, their long yellow fangs bared, hurled themselves at the Elves. But Legolas' preparations sufficed, for the very fury of the Warg charge caused the beasts to impale themselves upon elven swords. The momentum of the Wargs did knock some of the warriors upon the ground, and Legolas urgently shouted at the Elves who remained standing to push aside the Warg carcasses that pinned several of their fellow warriors. The freed Elves immediately prepared to fight again, although more than a few had broken ribs.
"The next wave shall be here upon the instant," Legolas warned. "Sheath swords. Nock bows."
Still encircling the horses, the Elves this time were set upon by howling Orcs. These could not move as quickly as Wargs, so the Elves were able to shoot many down before they reached their lines. Then the Elves dropped their bows and for the second time drew swords. These Orcs had no more wit than most of their kind—Legolas was surprised that he still saw no sign of the cleverer half-goblins—and the Elves slowly but steadily cut them down with few injuries on their side. At last they stood, panting, surrounded by the bodies of their fallen foes. Thranduil sheathed his sword and moved toward his son, to congratulate him on his marshalling of their forces. Legolas stood with his back to him—and also to the Orc who, having feigned death, suddenly arose, knife in hand. Thranduil had no time to draw his sword. He simply leaped forward, between the Orc and his son, and took the blow intended for Legolas.
Hearing the sickening sound of blade cutting through flesh and striking bone, Legolas spun around as the Orc yanked his knife from the body of Thranduil. With a fury that would have been unmatched by that of the balrog-slayer, Legolas sprang at the murderous creature and beheaded him. Then he dropped his sword and knelt by the side of his father. He still lived. Legolas yanked off his cloak and tore strips from it. Elladan seized a water bladder, and he and Elrohir hastened to Legolas. Legolas used the water to clean the deep wound in his father's side and then tightly bound it with the strips from the cloak.
"We must return to Isengard at once," declared Elladan.
"Nay, we must not!" exclaimed Legolas. "We must take him to Lothlórien."
"But Isengard is closer," Elrohir pointed out.
Legolas shook his head.
"Trust me, Elrohir. If we take him to Isengard, he will not survive. It is Galadriel's medicine he needs."
Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other in bewilderment, but, as only Legolas had any knowledge of the perils of Fangorn, they had to assume that he knew something that explained his insistence that Thranduil be carried to the Lady.
Legolas was so urgent in his demand that his father be taken up and carried to Lothlórien that the Elves did not stay to give a merciful death to any of the Orcs who might be wounded. Nor did they gather the carcasses together for burial or burning. This time they would trust to the scavengers to cleanse Middle Earth. Legolas uttered a brief prayer of apology to Arda, and then, gripping his father tightly before him, he set as rapid a pace as he dared toward the land of Lothlórien.