7) Of Thranduil
It was only a small gathering of trees - not enough to warrant the description forest, or even wood. So small was it, that it only appeared on the most detailed of maps and no one had ever bothered to name it. It lay just out of Minas Tirith, before the border of the Drúadan Forest - the home of the Drúedain.
This was Aragorn's destination as Brego took the reign offered to him and galloped across the plain. Arod kept pace with him, though seemingly without aids from his rider, as he wore no saddle or bridle - elven hands on his neck speaking in ways Aragorn could never hope to understand.
They drew to a halt as the road passed into the arms of the trees, both horses panting and shifting about excitedly. Moving from the road they left the horses to graze as they shared the bottle of water that Aragorn had brought. Resting against a huge tree, Aragorn watched Legolas as he wandered amongst the trees, his steps almost a dance to some melody no man would ever hear. A sudden gust of wind had the leaves rattling and four faces lifted to the sky. A word soothed the horses and Legolas returned to where Aragorn was sitting, smiling whimsically.
"There is no sound I love more than the strong winds through the trees. So likened to the sea perhaps that is why I love it so." The first that Legolas had said to the ranger since they had left his room, Aragorn sensed his need to talk and allowed him to tree's silence to fill. "The sea-longing draws me, Aragorn. And I fear it will have me before long." Legolas looked through the trees to the west, as though staring out at the large expanse that spoke the end for his people on Middle Earth, though Aragorn knew that mountains would block the sight from his elven-eyed companion. "I fear I am too young to pass, I am not ready. I have not yet found my place, my craft."
"You have great skill with a bow."
"In wielding one, yes. But this is a craft of war, it is of no use to me in peace. The elves came to Middle Earth to learn and to teach. But as our time here faded all thoughts have moved to war."
"How old are you, Legolas? Surely the elves have not given everything to war for so long."
"The shadow has rested on Greenwood the Great for near two thousand years. Little has been taught or learned in these darkened years save the craft of war. Greenwood became Mirkwood, a hated place where evil dwelled. I have never seen Greenwood the Great, Aragorn, for I was born to Mirkwood, a mere five hundred years passed."
"Only five hundred but we have taken a child into war. No wonder you have suffered from grief, this is no place for"
"You forget, man, that I still have over five times your years." Legolas' face hardened at Aragorn's response. "Do not doubt me now, not after I have done my part for the fellowship."
"I have seen elves of a thousand who still appear as a child. No older than ten years of men do they look. How then?"
"Elves do not grow or age as humans do. They can spend a hundred years as a babe in arms, and then in the space of a few weeks they can become as a child or even fully grown if they wish it. I will not look an aged man until my father has passed and I have taken the throne in Mirkwood if that ever comes to pass." He sighed. "I came to my current appearance within two hundred years." A grim look passed over his face. "I have not seen my home without the evil of Sauron haunting it. I have fought all my life. My father suggested that my quick ageing was necessary, for some higher purpose, and so he trained me as though I were older. But always has he kept me close."
"The fellowship was your purpose." A brief nod. "And now that you have fulfilled it, you will go over sea?" Legolas sighed at the question, eyes saddening.
"I fear it greatly, and long for it in the same breath. I will remain on Middle Earth for a while, still there is need of an archer as many orcs walk abroad."
The two friends sat together in silence for a while longer before gathering their things and mounting their horses once more. Legolas glanced back over his shoulder as they prepared to return to the city, only to spot a figure in the distance, too far for even his vision to make out any details.
"A rider comes along the northern pass." He frowned as he told Aragorn. "A rider in some haste, it seems, and alone. A messenger perhaps?" He looked to the King.
"I am expecting no news save the reports from Osgiliath in the East and Rohan in the West. 'Tis too early to expect news from Rivendell, unless something has gone amiss"
"We should ride out and meet them." Legolas suggested. Aragorn turned Brego and trotted quickly towards the road, Legolas close behind. "King Elessar, hide the elf-stone that gives you your name, we should be cautious and nothing else gives away your status so easily." Aragorn nodded and tucked the pendant inside his shirt as they moved on the figure that was finally becoming visible to the man as a dot in the distance. There was a gasp from beside him and before he could turn to look at Legolas for the source of the noise the elf was away, galloping madly across the plain towards the other horse.
"Legolas!" He shouted after him, spurring his own mount onwards.
The two riders had met by the time Aragorn reached them, and he slowed as he approached to take in the situation. Neither of the horses standing nearby were tacked - another elf then, he deduced. Obviously someone Legolas knew, for they were embracing as he moved closer and Legolas turned to him as he rode up, the smile on his face radiant.
"King Elessar of Gondor, I would present to you the King Thranduil, of Mirkwood." As the older elf turned, Aragorn was struck by the similarities in appearance of this man to Legolas. His father, he registered though the two had been introduced as Kings rather than friends. Aragorn dismounted quickly to offer a bow, which was returned with elven grace.
"King Elessar, I have come to request for the second time the release of my son from the duty of your fellowship, to take him over sea to the Valar."
"His life is not mine to rule, King Thranduil. But I offer you the comfort of my halls in which to discuss this with him."
"Your offer is greatly appreciated, for it is a long ride from my home for an elf such as myself. I gave up such travels long ago, and I am weary from the road."
As they rode back towards Minas Tirith, Thranduil talked of the battles that had been held in Mirkwood over the last few months between the elves and the forces of darkness. It almost seemed to the man that he was trying to make Legolas feel guilty for leaving his home, though he knew it had been the King who had sent Legolas out to Rivendell as a messenger of Gollum's escape. Finally the talk turned to more recent days and, excitedly, the King announced, "I received a visit from Celeborn of Lothlórien, who has not visited the eaves of our forest for many millenia. Galadriel leaves Middle Earth, the power of her ring - Nenya - is undone. The leaves of Lórien are for the first time falling. The elves of Lórien would move to Dol Guldur in Eryn Lasgalen, forming East Lórien."
"Eryn Lasgalen - the wood of greenleaves?" Legolas questioned.
"Mirkwood is no more. The darkness of old has been driven from our forest, with all who served them."
"Then the shadow"
"It has been lifted. Evil no longer resides within our home." Joy filled Legolas' face at the thought, but his countenance darkened.
"And yet you would still go, still leave Middle Earth."
"I would do anything to relieve the pain I see now in your eyes, my son, even leave my renewed kingdom." It was Aragorn who first saw the flicker of pain that crossed Legolas' face even as his father spoke these words. He brought Brego close alongside Arod, worried that the elf might fall from the Rohirrian mount, and placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder. He seemed startled by the touch and looked curiously at Aragorn who moved back, satisfied that the moment had passed. Taking a moment to observe his elven companion as he returned to conversation with Thranduil, Aragorn sighed as he realised he was looking near as weary as when they had started their ride, all of the peace that the trees had brought him undone by the presence of his father. Or maybe it was not Thranduil's fault, and the peace he had found had been simply a temporary measure, wearing away again as they moved from the woods. As the entered the gates of Minas Tirith the presence of the second elf brought much curiosity and they had to wade through the people of the city to get to the stables and then through further crowds to the halls themselves.
Aragorn watched with anxiety as Legolas' breathing became laboured, his eyes taking on the panicked look he had last seen at the end of the last battle. Even as he was preparing to shout over the crowd to clear the way, a voice he was sure he recognised called out 'Elves! Elves at the front gate!' and the host flooded from in front of him towards the front gate to greet the new visitors. He sighed, knowing he too would have to go to meet the newcomers, not knowing their purpose here unless they had followed the King. A hobbit appeared in front of him even as he prepared to go.
"Aragorn!" Merry whispered, though there were few people around to listen anyway. "Pippin will lead them away. The path to the halls are open." Then he winked and promptly disappeared from view.
"Well well." Thranduil mused. "It has been a long time since I have seen a Periannath, let alone so far south. And dressed in the garb of Rohan if I am not mistaken."
"Strange things have come to pass in the making of this fellowship. Not least should be thought my own tolerance for travelling with a dwarf." Legolas laughed quietly. Aragorn knew Legolas did a lot more than tolerate Gimli, for they had become fast friends, near inseparable, but such a things should be broken lightly to a King who has fought with dwarves all of his life. Especially when the father of the dwarf in question had publicly embarrassed the King by escaping his dungeons with his companions, leaving barely a trace of their passing.
"Indeed." Murmured the Elvenking as he marched on ahead.
Legolas excused himself when they reached the turning to the food halls, heading back towards his room and his now emptied bed. He felt exhausted and found it hard to scrape up the energy to smile at his father when he assured him that he was simply weary from the ride and the excitement of the day. Thranduil looked far from convinced, but allowed himself to be led towards the dining halls.
As soon as he was sure he was out of sight Legolas relaxed a little and was forced to reach for the nearest wall as Middle Earth spun around him, buckling him at the knees. He held himself still until the feeling had passed and then pulled himself to his feet, not giving up the support the wall offered. Breathing deeply, he hurried for his rooms, hoping the feeling of weakness that was infusing him would pass with sleep.
For a moment, as they entered the dining halls, Aragorn wondered if there would be a confrontation between the Elvenking and the dwarf who was already seated at the table. There was a moment when two pairs of eyes met, and a scowl graced both faces, but Thranduil moved to the table and took the steward's customary seat on the right hand of the King, leaving Faramir to take the seat on the table opposite, beside Gimli and the hobbits. Having dined on fare which was impressive for a feast at such short notice, Thranduil too excused himself and headed for the room he was told held his son.
As he stepped inside, silent, save for the slight creak of the door as he closed it behind him, Thranduil was overtaken by a wave of grief as he saw his son. He lay on white sheets, hardly more than a blond shadow, light become dark. Thranduil fell into a nearby chair, thanking Elbereth that there was no one near to see his weakness, and let his head fall into his hands.
"Oh, my son, my son. What have they done to you? To drag you through darkness and death, to the very gates of Mordor you have gone for these people. And now, when your uses are done to abandon you to your fate, to let you fade away unchecked. How dare they call themselves elf-friends. I know your heart is warm, my son. I have heard the title you have gifted to the dwarf. But you are too young to see them for what they are." Thranduil looked up from his hands, his face hardening. "I shall take you from this. I will allow you to suffer no more. Tomorrow at first light, my son, I shall come for you."
When Thranduil left the room there were two guards outside waiting for him.
"We are your escort, my Lord. We have come to take you to your rooms and watch over you while you are here." It seemed to take the Elvenking a moment to focus on the two, but once he had, he smiled.
"Good, I have need of you. One of you run to the stables, tell the stable hands that my own horse and one for my son should be prepared for dawn tomorrow with filled packs for six day's ride. The other run fetch me a flagon of wine and bring it to me in my chambers." The guards shared a glance of confusion, but quickly moved to do what they had been asked, leaving Thranduil alone again. He sighed, and moved along the corridor quietly. He stifled a start as a second pair of footsteps joined his own. "I did not hear you there." He told Aragorn, glancing back at him. "Your talents appear to be many, King of men."
"You were distracted, I did not mean to interrupt."
"I am glad to have seen you. Legolas and I will leave tomorrow at dawn, preparations are being made for our departure. I rode here quickly, we may still make the next ship."
"We rode for less than a day today and he was near collapse with exhaustion when we returned. Will he make such a journey without a worsening of his condition?"
"So you have realised that he grieves?" The Elvenking sounded surprised.
"How could we not? His strength wanes, he grows pale and withdrawn I had been busy with my duties as a new King to Gondor, it was Gimli who brought my attention to his current condition and we rode together today with the intention of lightening his spirits."
"The dwarf" Thranduil sneered. "What business does he have with my son?"
"They are friends, my Lord, of the closest kind. They would give their lives for each other. Such a friendship is a rare thing, especially between"
"You think to tell me of my own race?" The Elvenking interrupted. "Gimli son of Glóin comes from a long line of thieves and criminals, I do not know how he has manipulated my son, but he will be out of his reach by the morrow." Aragorn looked set to object, but in a moment's rage, the King turned on him, face red and voice raised. "Legolas is dying, King of Gondor, through your abuse of his innocence." His voice cracked momentarily, before he gathered his composure with an iron will. "No no, I must get him far from here. In the lands of the Valar he still has some hope."
As dawn began to colour the sky outside his window the next morning, King Thranduil of Mirkwood opened his door to find a dwarf standing before him.
"I would speak to you." Was the brusque statement, no courtesy applied to smooth the demand over.
"Then speak, and move out of my way."
"I wish only to ensure you are not forcing Legolas to leave Middle Earth. 'Til this morn he was adamant he would be remaining."
"Would you claim to know my son better than myself?" Thranduil demanded.
'Yes, you arrogant' Gimli mentally retorted.
"Of course not, sir." He interrupted himself verbally. "But Legolas has often talked of his fear of what lies over sea"
"No elf would fear the Valar. He talks in anticipation! You have misunderstood him."
"Though the sea-longing holds him he still intended to stay with"
"Legolas has made his decision, and you will no longer hold him from his true path, dwarf." The Elvenking managed to put the spite of ages into that single word.
"Adar!" Legolas looked near-furious, in spite of the fact that he was leaning heavily on the wall for support. Thranduil turned on his son, his posture confrontational.
"Do not 'adar' me." He growled. "This rabble of men and perian and dwarves have corrupted you and caused you pain. This is not your fault and I know that, the folly lies with that damn Peredhil, but I will be the one to take you away from this before more harm befalls you."
"Did you think to consult me on this?" The King gaped at his son's insolence. There was a hardness in the face that was so similar to his own. A hardness that should not be seen in eyes so young.
"I did not need to, Legolas. I fear you may have forgotten in your slumber, but you are my son!"
"I am too old for your coddling, King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen. I have proved myself to my friends and my kin. I am subject to your rule no more."
"Then as your King!"
"As your subject, I have a right to choose my own time to pass over sea."
"I cannot believe you would" Thranduil suddenly looked very old. "You would forsake me?" Legolas flinched.
"I have no wish to pass over sea, Adar."
"An ultimatum then." Both sighed. "But what of the sea-longing, it is plain in your eyes, in the looks you cast unknowing to the west."
"Fear keeps me from the sea, as much as longing draws me. I am caught between these two and will not yet move either way."
"Yet you will pass eventually?"
"I cannot say."
"How will you quell the grief that haunts you even now? I will not leave you here to die."
"He has friends." Came the gruff statement from the stout figure who they had all-but forgotten about.
"And do his friends have the power of forgetfulness and healing? Hmmm?"
"I would not forget my grief, Adar, for it represents the passing of many dear friends. Instead I would have it fade from my heart in the company of good friends, until I no longer remember the pain, only the good that I once saw."
"I would not have your grief take you even as I travel over sea!"
"We will not allow it." Gimli assured. For the first time, it seemed, Thranduil truly looked at the dwarf.
"Then so it will be" Both turned quickly as Legolas slumped to the floor, neither close enough to catch him.
"His light is fading."
"Come, stay close, he will take comfort
"Breathe deeply ernil-nin."
Legolas woke slowly to the scent of pipe-weed, opening his eyes even as Elrond chased the wizard from the room, pipe and all. Looking around him he found Gimli asleep in a chair on his right - still clinging to his axe as if his life depended on it; Merry at the foot of his bed and Elrond now taking what he assumed to be Mithrandir's emptied chair on his left.
"Good morn, Prince of Mirkwood." He greeted, with a glimmer of a smile. Gimli awoke with a start at his voice, jumping from his seat with his axe raised. "There are no demons here whom would submit to your axe, Gimli son of Glóin, calm yourself." Elrond admonished, one eyebrow raised. Gimli took his seat again, abashed. He leapt from it once more when he realised Legolas was awake.
"Well Master Elf! 'Tis a bright morn that sees you awake, Aragorn quite feared that you would slumber though his crowning."
"And that would never do." Legolas smiled softly, voice hoarse from sleep. "How long have I lain asleep?"
"Near two days." Elrond provided. "The crowning is at noon today, you must hurry if you are to get ready. The King of Eryn Lasgalen would be loath to see his son underdressed on such an occasion."
"Ai! Adar will have missed his ship."
"The Grief of Lórien will not wait for your father, but had he tried to take you with him as he intended you would surely have died. It was only through the vigils of your friends that you were restored, and still you cannot be considered well by any measurement. There is another ship to leave shortly and he shall be granted a place aboard it, have no fear of that. And now, I must go and check on my daughter. Her love was with you when we arrived and so he has not seen her, he fears what I might say too much to ask me for news of her and is too busy to ask anyone else. A future King has much to do." With this he bowed lightly to Legolas and left the room with only the whispers of his clothes to mark his passing.
"The Grief of Lórien." Legolas sighed. "With it travels many friends, to their rest. It will soothe my heart to know they are at peace."