Authors Note: Thank you again to everyone that has reviewed each one has
been helpful and encouraging.
I apologise for the large amount of dialogue in this chapter, but this part has had to cover a lot of explanation from many of the characters, I promise more action in the next chapter :)
Chapter Seven
"Aloysius!" Arwen called out to the tall, dark-hair half-elf that dismounted from his grey mare a short distance away from her. He had been away far longer than she had anticipated and had missed her sons comforting presence greatly. "Welcome home." She said as he approached her with speed and immediately drew her into his solid embrace.
"It is good to be home mother." He answered pulling away from her to inspect the small crowd that had gathered behind them. "Father." He said formally, although surprised at the unexpected presence of the king he hid it well.
"Welcome home my son." Aragorn spoke in a similar tone, stepping forward he reached out to shake his son's hand in greeting. "You have been well?"
"Aye, my lord, Elrond has taught me much and I am grateful for his teachings."
"You have been a joy to teach." Elrond spoke up from his position a short distance away from the reuniting family. Aloysius let go of his fathers hand and turned to face the small party of elves that had escorted him home. "Aragorn you should be very proud of your son."
Aragorn nodded in agreement. "What do we owe you for the pleasure of your company Ada?" He asked slowly moving towards the tall, dark elf that had cared for him as a child so long ago. His carefree childhood seemed so far away now as he stared in to his foster fathers travel weary eyes.
Elrond smiled gently as Aragorn reached his side, pulling his human son in to his arms for a moment. "Do I need a reason to visit my family?" The elf lord questioned.
Aragorn raised an eyebrow in disbelief. His expression alone allowing the dark elf to read his unspoken question.
Elrond grinned. "I do wish to visit my family." He insisted. "But I will admit that it is not the sole reason for my visit but I will not discus that here. Come let us enjoy this reunion we will talk later once we have been feed and watered."
"Of course," Aragorn nodded. "Noon meal is almost ready you are all welcome to join us unless you would prefer for your meal to be brought to you in your chambers so that you are able to rest?"
"No, I will eat with you now and rest afterwards."
~*~
"Lord Elrond?" Tavaril called out as he cautiously entered the spacious rooms. He had knocked on the wooden door to his grandfather's guest chambers but had not received an answer. He glanced around the large room, the drapes were closed and the room was lit only by a few candles scattered around the chambers. He had initially feared that the elf lord may have been sleeping but as his gaze hit the four-poster bed he could clearly see that it had not yet been slept in.
"Over here Tavaril." Looking up he met Elrond's eyes from where the elder elf sat unmoving, in a heavily cushioned arm chair beside large unlit fire place, a book resting in one hand.
"Grandfather! Why did you not answer my calls?" He moved further into the room, closing the door behind him before making his way across the polished, wooden floorboards towards where Elrond was standing.
"If what you wished to ask me was unimportant you would have left assuming that I was otherwise engaged and waited until later but as I can see it obviously was important enough to disturb my rest." Elrond raise an eyebrow, Tavaril blushed slightly.
"I apologise for disturbing you," Tavaril murmured "What I was going to ask does not seem so important now I will leave you to your res..."
"Enough Tavaril." He interrupted, smiling gently. "Come," He beckoned with his book free hand for the young elf to sit in the chair opposite him. "You are here now and I must admit that I am curious as to what you wish to discuss."
Tavaril nodded and moved closer. "I have a theory of which I hope to find evidence to support." Tavaril sat down gingerly, sinking down in to the soft cushions and padding of the over stuffed chair. Both chairs were vibrant red in colour a strange colour maybe for a room meant for relaxation but some how it worked well in contrast to the pale tone of the rest of the guest chambers.
"And which theory is this?" Elrond leant forward in his chair to place the book gently down on the floor by his feet before careful to leave it open on the page he was currently reading before drawing his gaze back to the slightly nervous form of his grandson.
"I wish," He paused for a moment seeking for the right way to ask his question. "To know... I wish to know what happened to the child of Legolas of Mirkwood and Aragorn of Gondor."
Tavaril watched carefully as the other elf froze, his mind seemed to be slowly processing the question over and over again. He expected a small amount of shock at the question as his father had told him that Elrond had examined Legolas's body but his grandfather seemed to almost sink away from him. Elrond had to know that Legolas's body had not held the child in death. The elf lord was well known for his skill in the art of healing surely he could not have missed something this great.
Tavaril leant further back in to his chair, sinking deeper into the cushions as Elrond stood and walked across the room to stand by the large window, pushing back the drapes allowing soft beams of sun light to cascade in through the window, the room instantly lost its eerie candle lit orange glow.
After what felt like hours but was more likely only a few minutes, Elrond spoke, his voice deceptively calm but tight and deliberately slow. "Why do you ask such a question," He paused slightly. "The past is better left where it is and it is certainly not your place to bring it back up to surface."
"No grandfather," He argued. "I know that it is not my place but I believe that I have found the one individual whose place it is."
"What?" Elrond turned quickly, tearing his eyes from the colourful gardens back to Tavaril. "Who is it that you believe you have found." His voice, Tavaril noticed carried a demanding tone even thought Elrond attempted to hide it well.
"I think you know who I have found or you would not appear so concerned by my statement." Tavaril almost grinned, almost. It was not often that he was in this sort of position, normally he was the one trying to convince others of his own opinions, this was quite a change and to be completely honest Tavaril was almost enjoying it.
"Tavaril answer the question." Although he did not appear or sound aggressive there was something in his voice which Tavaril knew it meant that it was now time to stop playing games.
"Her name is Aranel." He began, looking down at his hands that rested in his lap, almost bowing his head in apology to his grandfather. "She is a young half elf, and has recently come to Minas Tirith in search of her only living father."
"She could be anyone." Elrond denied, turning back to gaze out of the window.
"She told me a lot of her past." Tavaril twisted his fingers together wishing that he had had a chance to speak to Aranel before he had come to Elrond. He was breaking a promise by discussing this with out her permission, but, he told himself he was helping her find the information she wanted and he had tired to find her earlier. "She was brought up by a close friend of both of her father's, a dwarf known as Gimli. Her elven father was killed in battle only a day after her birth." He would have continued into further detail but stopped as he heard Elrond sigh heavily. Looking up he watched his grandfather's head fall forward to rest against the window in what appeared to be defeat.
"Where did you meet her?" He asked finally.
"She is working as a kitchen maid in the main palace kitchen."
"Take me to her."
Tavaril shifted in his stead uncomfortably. "Are you sure that is a good idea." He said. "She is not expecting this I broke her confidence in coming to you without speaking with her firs..."
"It is a bit late to be thinking about that now Tavaril." Elrond turned to glare at him. "Take me to her."
~*~
Aranel turned though did not stand up from her position kneeling, alone on the cold floor as she heard foot steps moving quickly down the stone corridor towards her in the kitchen.
The door swung open to reveal Tavaril and a rather stern looking elf, both made no sign that they were going to move further into the kitchen with her, they continued to stare at her openly and her confidence slowly diminishing.
"Can I help you?" She asked stumbling to her feet and brushing down her cloak, only to have the fastening around her neck come loose and item concealing her fancy, pale blue tunic fall to the floor and pool at her feet.
The elf she did not recognise gasped and made to step back out of the room but Tavaril reached out a hand to steady his movements.
"Tavaril?"
He could see as well as hear the obvious concern and unease the young she- elf was feeling at the unwanted attention.
"This," He began, although he was not really sure where to begin. "This is my grandfather, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, I.... we believe that he is the foster father to the man you know as Strider."
"My...my father?"
Tavaril nodded, and stood back as Elrond, who appeared to have regained his composure walked passed him and further into the kitchen until he stood just in front of the now very nervous Aranel.
He reached out slowly and ran a single, extended finger through her slightly curly blond, shoulder length hair before drawing back. He adjusted his gaze, pulling it away from her blond hair to meet with her immediately recognisable grey eyes. Her beautiful features enhanced by the highly decorative clothing.
They were an exact replica of Aragorn's. That he could clearly see.
"How old are you?" He asked softly, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Eighteen years." She whispered softly, stunned by the treatment she was receiving from this famous elven lord.
He nodded slowly. "Can you tell me the names of your parents?"
She glanced over Elrond's shoulder to Tavaril who smiled encouragingly towards her.
"I only know them as Strider and Greenleaf, I was never told any of the other names that they were called." She turned her head away, looking down at the floor. "My elven father, Greenleaf, died the day after I was born, killed by those who apposed my creation."
Elrond reach forward again and brushed his fingers against her cheek before gently lifting her chin so that her pale grey eyes once again met his.
"It was not your creation that they opposed Aranel, it was what your creation stood for. Humans at the best of times find it difficult to see passed their own biased opinions to look to see what the consequences of their actions may be." He sighed heavily pausing in his sentence for just a moment. "They do not think to consult others before they act and in doing so cause more problems than they would have had, had they done nothing in the first place." Elrond shook his head from side to side almost in disappointment before stepping back to lean against the wooden worktop nearest to him. "If only I had known of your survival then. I, as did others, believed that you had been born and lost. As I examined Greenleaf, Legolas as he was commonly known, it was apparent that the labour had been long and strenuous. We assumed that the prolonged labour would have produced a sickly child and even if it had survived the battle it would not have lived long alone in the forest."
"But Gimli cared for me." She protested. "He loved Greenleaf ... Legolas, he would and did in the end die for me."
"Yes," Elrond said calmly, agreeing with her and trying to reassure her. "But we did not believe that he could have survived long after Legolas's death. We knew that he must have managed to avoid death by the hands of the men when his body was not recovered, but his love for Legolas, although he believed that he hid it well, was well known. We thought that he would slowly fade away into the forest and die of grief."
"He was a dwarf not an elf!" She snapped. She did not mean to sound aggressive but some small part of her mind still could not comprehend that she was having this conversation. She had only been in Minas Tirith a few short days, everything was happening so fast, she had expected to be searching for months if not years not just a matter of days.
"Aye, but the principle is the same, anyone, elf, man or dwarf that looses a loved one they will suffer emotionally, Gimli more so, as he had no one else to turn to, but we are headed away from the original topic. What is it you wish to accomplish here?"
"Accomplish?" She asked slightly bemused, she thought that at least was obvious. "I wish to find my father."
"Yes, but do you wish of him? To accept you in to his family, or do you just wish for him to acknowledge your existence with out becoming to involved in your life?"
"I....I do not know." Her world seem to be crumbling, she had not been naive enough to believe that this situation, once she had found it would be simple, but all these questions were just to much to process right now, she needed time to think everything through alone. "I... I just..." She glanced across at Tavaril who had noticed her anxiety and was making his way towards her.
"Grandfather, this has been as much of a shock to her as it has been for you perhaps we should allow her some time." He smiled at her comfortingly.
Elrond nodded slowly, almost thoughtfully. Tavaril could not hope to guess what was currently going through the elf lord's mind. "Aye, I have other matters of which I need to attend to, although they now seem to pale in comparison to this. Aranel, if you are able, Tavaril will lead you to my chambers tomorrow morning, after morning meal where we will discus the details of your past and what you wish to occur now, and do not speak of this to anyone until then."
"Aye, My lord." She answered quietly.
Drawing his dark eyes across her feature one last time Elrond turned and exited the dimly lit kitchen.
Certain that he had finally gone, Aranel allowed her knees to buckle and she would have dropped to the hard stone floor had Tavaril not caught her just in time.
~*~
After hurrying back to his private chambers Elrond closed the door firmly behind him. He paced the length of the room and then back as he mulled over what decision to make. Sighing heavily for what seemed like the hundredth time that day he realised that the decision was now not really his choice to make. Turning, he quickly reached his desk, sat down on the wooden chair and pulled out an unused scroll of paper and quill. Uncapping the inkwell, the servants had provided him with, he dipped in the quill and began what was possibly one of the most difficult of letters he had ever had to write.
'Dear Legolas .......'
~*~
TBC....
I know this ending may confuse a few people but please bear with me, all will be explained in the next chapter I promise.
Thank you for reading please review.
I apologise for the large amount of dialogue in this chapter, but this part has had to cover a lot of explanation from many of the characters, I promise more action in the next chapter :)
Chapter Seven
"Aloysius!" Arwen called out to the tall, dark-hair half-elf that dismounted from his grey mare a short distance away from her. He had been away far longer than she had anticipated and had missed her sons comforting presence greatly. "Welcome home." She said as he approached her with speed and immediately drew her into his solid embrace.
"It is good to be home mother." He answered pulling away from her to inspect the small crowd that had gathered behind them. "Father." He said formally, although surprised at the unexpected presence of the king he hid it well.
"Welcome home my son." Aragorn spoke in a similar tone, stepping forward he reached out to shake his son's hand in greeting. "You have been well?"
"Aye, my lord, Elrond has taught me much and I am grateful for his teachings."
"You have been a joy to teach." Elrond spoke up from his position a short distance away from the reuniting family. Aloysius let go of his fathers hand and turned to face the small party of elves that had escorted him home. "Aragorn you should be very proud of your son."
Aragorn nodded in agreement. "What do we owe you for the pleasure of your company Ada?" He asked slowly moving towards the tall, dark elf that had cared for him as a child so long ago. His carefree childhood seemed so far away now as he stared in to his foster fathers travel weary eyes.
Elrond smiled gently as Aragorn reached his side, pulling his human son in to his arms for a moment. "Do I need a reason to visit my family?" The elf lord questioned.
Aragorn raised an eyebrow in disbelief. His expression alone allowing the dark elf to read his unspoken question.
Elrond grinned. "I do wish to visit my family." He insisted. "But I will admit that it is not the sole reason for my visit but I will not discus that here. Come let us enjoy this reunion we will talk later once we have been feed and watered."
"Of course," Aragorn nodded. "Noon meal is almost ready you are all welcome to join us unless you would prefer for your meal to be brought to you in your chambers so that you are able to rest?"
"No, I will eat with you now and rest afterwards."
~*~
"Lord Elrond?" Tavaril called out as he cautiously entered the spacious rooms. He had knocked on the wooden door to his grandfather's guest chambers but had not received an answer. He glanced around the large room, the drapes were closed and the room was lit only by a few candles scattered around the chambers. He had initially feared that the elf lord may have been sleeping but as his gaze hit the four-poster bed he could clearly see that it had not yet been slept in.
"Over here Tavaril." Looking up he met Elrond's eyes from where the elder elf sat unmoving, in a heavily cushioned arm chair beside large unlit fire place, a book resting in one hand.
"Grandfather! Why did you not answer my calls?" He moved further into the room, closing the door behind him before making his way across the polished, wooden floorboards towards where Elrond was standing.
"If what you wished to ask me was unimportant you would have left assuming that I was otherwise engaged and waited until later but as I can see it obviously was important enough to disturb my rest." Elrond raise an eyebrow, Tavaril blushed slightly.
"I apologise for disturbing you," Tavaril murmured "What I was going to ask does not seem so important now I will leave you to your res..."
"Enough Tavaril." He interrupted, smiling gently. "Come," He beckoned with his book free hand for the young elf to sit in the chair opposite him. "You are here now and I must admit that I am curious as to what you wish to discuss."
Tavaril nodded and moved closer. "I have a theory of which I hope to find evidence to support." Tavaril sat down gingerly, sinking down in to the soft cushions and padding of the over stuffed chair. Both chairs were vibrant red in colour a strange colour maybe for a room meant for relaxation but some how it worked well in contrast to the pale tone of the rest of the guest chambers.
"And which theory is this?" Elrond leant forward in his chair to place the book gently down on the floor by his feet before careful to leave it open on the page he was currently reading before drawing his gaze back to the slightly nervous form of his grandson.
"I wish," He paused for a moment seeking for the right way to ask his question. "To know... I wish to know what happened to the child of Legolas of Mirkwood and Aragorn of Gondor."
Tavaril watched carefully as the other elf froze, his mind seemed to be slowly processing the question over and over again. He expected a small amount of shock at the question as his father had told him that Elrond had examined Legolas's body but his grandfather seemed to almost sink away from him. Elrond had to know that Legolas's body had not held the child in death. The elf lord was well known for his skill in the art of healing surely he could not have missed something this great.
Tavaril leant further back in to his chair, sinking deeper into the cushions as Elrond stood and walked across the room to stand by the large window, pushing back the drapes allowing soft beams of sun light to cascade in through the window, the room instantly lost its eerie candle lit orange glow.
After what felt like hours but was more likely only a few minutes, Elrond spoke, his voice deceptively calm but tight and deliberately slow. "Why do you ask such a question," He paused slightly. "The past is better left where it is and it is certainly not your place to bring it back up to surface."
"No grandfather," He argued. "I know that it is not my place but I believe that I have found the one individual whose place it is."
"What?" Elrond turned quickly, tearing his eyes from the colourful gardens back to Tavaril. "Who is it that you believe you have found." His voice, Tavaril noticed carried a demanding tone even thought Elrond attempted to hide it well.
"I think you know who I have found or you would not appear so concerned by my statement." Tavaril almost grinned, almost. It was not often that he was in this sort of position, normally he was the one trying to convince others of his own opinions, this was quite a change and to be completely honest Tavaril was almost enjoying it.
"Tavaril answer the question." Although he did not appear or sound aggressive there was something in his voice which Tavaril knew it meant that it was now time to stop playing games.
"Her name is Aranel." He began, looking down at his hands that rested in his lap, almost bowing his head in apology to his grandfather. "She is a young half elf, and has recently come to Minas Tirith in search of her only living father."
"She could be anyone." Elrond denied, turning back to gaze out of the window.
"She told me a lot of her past." Tavaril twisted his fingers together wishing that he had had a chance to speak to Aranel before he had come to Elrond. He was breaking a promise by discussing this with out her permission, but, he told himself he was helping her find the information she wanted and he had tired to find her earlier. "She was brought up by a close friend of both of her father's, a dwarf known as Gimli. Her elven father was killed in battle only a day after her birth." He would have continued into further detail but stopped as he heard Elrond sigh heavily. Looking up he watched his grandfather's head fall forward to rest against the window in what appeared to be defeat.
"Where did you meet her?" He asked finally.
"She is working as a kitchen maid in the main palace kitchen."
"Take me to her."
Tavaril shifted in his stead uncomfortably. "Are you sure that is a good idea." He said. "She is not expecting this I broke her confidence in coming to you without speaking with her firs..."
"It is a bit late to be thinking about that now Tavaril." Elrond turned to glare at him. "Take me to her."
~*~
Aranel turned though did not stand up from her position kneeling, alone on the cold floor as she heard foot steps moving quickly down the stone corridor towards her in the kitchen.
The door swung open to reveal Tavaril and a rather stern looking elf, both made no sign that they were going to move further into the kitchen with her, they continued to stare at her openly and her confidence slowly diminishing.
"Can I help you?" She asked stumbling to her feet and brushing down her cloak, only to have the fastening around her neck come loose and item concealing her fancy, pale blue tunic fall to the floor and pool at her feet.
The elf she did not recognise gasped and made to step back out of the room but Tavaril reached out a hand to steady his movements.
"Tavaril?"
He could see as well as hear the obvious concern and unease the young she- elf was feeling at the unwanted attention.
"This," He began, although he was not really sure where to begin. "This is my grandfather, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, I.... we believe that he is the foster father to the man you know as Strider."
"My...my father?"
Tavaril nodded, and stood back as Elrond, who appeared to have regained his composure walked passed him and further into the kitchen until he stood just in front of the now very nervous Aranel.
He reached out slowly and ran a single, extended finger through her slightly curly blond, shoulder length hair before drawing back. He adjusted his gaze, pulling it away from her blond hair to meet with her immediately recognisable grey eyes. Her beautiful features enhanced by the highly decorative clothing.
They were an exact replica of Aragorn's. That he could clearly see.
"How old are you?" He asked softly, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Eighteen years." She whispered softly, stunned by the treatment she was receiving from this famous elven lord.
He nodded slowly. "Can you tell me the names of your parents?"
She glanced over Elrond's shoulder to Tavaril who smiled encouragingly towards her.
"I only know them as Strider and Greenleaf, I was never told any of the other names that they were called." She turned her head away, looking down at the floor. "My elven father, Greenleaf, died the day after I was born, killed by those who apposed my creation."
Elrond reach forward again and brushed his fingers against her cheek before gently lifting her chin so that her pale grey eyes once again met his.
"It was not your creation that they opposed Aranel, it was what your creation stood for. Humans at the best of times find it difficult to see passed their own biased opinions to look to see what the consequences of their actions may be." He sighed heavily pausing in his sentence for just a moment. "They do not think to consult others before they act and in doing so cause more problems than they would have had, had they done nothing in the first place." Elrond shook his head from side to side almost in disappointment before stepping back to lean against the wooden worktop nearest to him. "If only I had known of your survival then. I, as did others, believed that you had been born and lost. As I examined Greenleaf, Legolas as he was commonly known, it was apparent that the labour had been long and strenuous. We assumed that the prolonged labour would have produced a sickly child and even if it had survived the battle it would not have lived long alone in the forest."
"But Gimli cared for me." She protested. "He loved Greenleaf ... Legolas, he would and did in the end die for me."
"Yes," Elrond said calmly, agreeing with her and trying to reassure her. "But we did not believe that he could have survived long after Legolas's death. We knew that he must have managed to avoid death by the hands of the men when his body was not recovered, but his love for Legolas, although he believed that he hid it well, was well known. We thought that he would slowly fade away into the forest and die of grief."
"He was a dwarf not an elf!" She snapped. She did not mean to sound aggressive but some small part of her mind still could not comprehend that she was having this conversation. She had only been in Minas Tirith a few short days, everything was happening so fast, she had expected to be searching for months if not years not just a matter of days.
"Aye, but the principle is the same, anyone, elf, man or dwarf that looses a loved one they will suffer emotionally, Gimli more so, as he had no one else to turn to, but we are headed away from the original topic. What is it you wish to accomplish here?"
"Accomplish?" She asked slightly bemused, she thought that at least was obvious. "I wish to find my father."
"Yes, but do you wish of him? To accept you in to his family, or do you just wish for him to acknowledge your existence with out becoming to involved in your life?"
"I....I do not know." Her world seem to be crumbling, she had not been naive enough to believe that this situation, once she had found it would be simple, but all these questions were just to much to process right now, she needed time to think everything through alone. "I... I just..." She glanced across at Tavaril who had noticed her anxiety and was making his way towards her.
"Grandfather, this has been as much of a shock to her as it has been for you perhaps we should allow her some time." He smiled at her comfortingly.
Elrond nodded slowly, almost thoughtfully. Tavaril could not hope to guess what was currently going through the elf lord's mind. "Aye, I have other matters of which I need to attend to, although they now seem to pale in comparison to this. Aranel, if you are able, Tavaril will lead you to my chambers tomorrow morning, after morning meal where we will discus the details of your past and what you wish to occur now, and do not speak of this to anyone until then."
"Aye, My lord." She answered quietly.
Drawing his dark eyes across her feature one last time Elrond turned and exited the dimly lit kitchen.
Certain that he had finally gone, Aranel allowed her knees to buckle and she would have dropped to the hard stone floor had Tavaril not caught her just in time.
~*~
After hurrying back to his private chambers Elrond closed the door firmly behind him. He paced the length of the room and then back as he mulled over what decision to make. Sighing heavily for what seemed like the hundredth time that day he realised that the decision was now not really his choice to make. Turning, he quickly reached his desk, sat down on the wooden chair and pulled out an unused scroll of paper and quill. Uncapping the inkwell, the servants had provided him with, he dipped in the quill and began what was possibly one of the most difficult of letters he had ever had to write.
'Dear Legolas .......'
~*~
TBC....
I know this ending may confuse a few people but please bear with me, all will be explained in the next chapter I promise.
Thank you for reading please review.