Authors Note: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews I have received so
far and sorry that it has taken so long to get this chapter posted
(currently completely snowed under a large amount of course work that needs
to be handed in with in the next week or so *yuck*). Oh and thank you to
those of you who pointed out a couple of mistakes that I had made it does
help a lot and means that I can eventually go back and change them *smile*.
Chapter Nine
Legolas patted his hand reassuringly against his horse's neck as he forced his well loved mare into a faster pace he hoped desperately that she would be able to continue at this speed until they reached the tall, imposing gates of Minas Tirith. He could feel her enjoyment at being allowed to run freely through the forest after being cooped up with him for so long as he continued with his reclusive lifestyle but he was also aware that due to this she was unused to maintaining such high speeds.
They raced pasted trees and small human villages but Legolas would stop to rest at none, he was determined to reach Minas Tirith by nightfall, the quicker he reached his destination the less time his mind had to dwell on the infinite number of reactions his appearance could cause not only his daughter but those he had spent so much time with in the past.
The letter Lord Elrond had sent him had contained little detail of how Aranel had been found. He desperately wanted to know how she had survived to adulthood after her supposed death eighteen years ago, but as he thought further he realised that his live since the attack was a mirror of hers, for he too had been hidden to all but those closest to him. Almost all but a small minority of family and friends believed that he too had died. He had heard that the memorial ceremony held in his honour had drawn one of the largest gatherings of elves and men in recent history and his statue, placed in one of the large communal gardens, was often visited.
He had hated, and still hated, the idea of being kept hidden but at the time he had offered little resistance when both Elrond and his father had told him of their plans for him, the death of his daughter still fresh in his mind had greatly diminished his ability to argue against the decisions of his elders and so the decision had been made for him.
Oh how he regretted it now.
He wondered how his daughter had lived, how she had looked growing up and how she behaved. He had to understand that she would be nothing like him for he had had no input or influence on her upbringing at all.
Slowly he began to blame his own inability to defend himself against his father's wishes for the life he had lived secluded and alone without that of his child.
He shook his head to try and rid himself of his depressive thoughts that attempted to consume his soul, causing a few of long, blond strands to become tangled as they whipped energetically behind him due to the speed he was travelling.
The sun had almost reached its highest point in the clear, cloudless sky above him, the shadows now small and offering little shade as the trees became sparsely scattered. He knew it would not be more than a few hours before Minas Tirith became visible to his elven eyes.
A shiver shot down his spine in anticipation.
It would not be long now.
~*~
"Aranel I am afraid that a great number of secrets were created eighteen years ago that, at the time, I and many others believed were made in the best interests of all who were concerned." Elrond began. He watched the expressions on the faces of the two young elves beside him carefully, making sure that he was aware of any change in their moods whilst he was talking. Both were currently curious, although Aranel was clearly, and understandably, nervous.
"The attack on your elven father," he began, "was orchestrated by those who believed that your existence would cause future problems for the royal family. Men have a long history of their kingdoms being torn apart by their king's illegitimate heirs."
"But Aranel was..., is, no threat to the throne!" Tavaril interrupted quickly.
"No, but they had no way of knowing that she would not be. If she had been born a male and Prince Cadell had met with an unfortunate accident then Aranel would have been well with in her rights to challenge Aloysius for control of the throne due to their similar ages." He paused to make sure that they both understood before continuing. "The race of men had been though so much upset mainly due to the 'War of the Ring' that many were unwilling to let anything jeopardise the peace that they appear to have gained since then. You were supposed to have paid for that piece with your life Aranel and that of your father and Gimli, but obviously they were unable to complete what they had set out to achieve." He sighed loudly. "I will tell you what occurred from my own point of view as I know no other but I am aware that my version of events may differ slightly from others opinions but I pray that you listen carefully for I have not spoken of this to anyone other than yourselves since the event itself."
He watched as both of the younger elves nodded, but neither of them spoke they seemed to be caught on his every word whist desperately waiting for the next.
"I was visiting Minas Tirith when the event occurred, a messenger, I assume that he was one of those who had been part of the attack on your father alerted the palace that Legolas had been fatally injured when he had crossed paths with a group of Orc's on his journey back to Mirkwood. Aragorn was not alerted immediately as I believe that he was taking part in a meeting with many important members of the court so I left with a small number of my warriors, *elvish warriors*." He emphasised. "It did not take as long as I had expected to reach the sight of the attack for the event had taken place closer to Mirkwoods boarders than to Minas Tirith." Elrond took a deep breath before reaching out for a crystal glass of red wine which sat on a small desk to his side. He sipped it slowly as Aranel and Tavaril watched him, still completely enrapt in his tale.
Placing his glass back down upon the table he risked glancing up and meeting the she-elf's gaze. Her eyes no longer contained the nervousness but instead now held a look of intrigue.
"This is where my version of events will differ from most others." He said slowly, running his fingers through his hair for just a moment. "Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, did not die as has been told to all but a very select few.
~*~
Flash Back
~*~
"My Lord?"
The voice of one of his warriors interrupted his concentration. Elrond sat back on to the hard, dry ground, slowly pulling back from his examination of the severely lacerated and blood soaked body of the young Mirkwood prince.
"He still lives." He muttered, answering the unasked question. "But barely."
"There were no Orc's here my lord." Another of his protectors spoke as he walked into the clearing where the prince's unmoving body lay. "I do not wish to make accusations with out proof but I believe this was an attack made by men, the cuts on the Princes body are far to clean to have been made by an Orc blade and the ground would be far more disturbed than it is."
Elrond nodded, indicating that he was listening carefully, his mind quickly processing the information searching for an appropriate course of action to take. He could not risk returning Legolas to Minas Tirith, surely if those who had attacked him discovered that they had not succeeded and that the blond elf still lived they would try again. If anything men were persistence creatures, of that he was sure.
Legolas shivered, noticing this Elrond reached up to remove his cloak, unclasping it before laying it gently and with the greatest of care over Legolas.
"I can not heal him with out the necessary equipment." He told those close to him. "Prepare the horses for we must head straight for Mirkwood."
"Aye, my Lord." Both answered simultaneously.
"Leith." Elrond called, halting the movements of one of the elves which had previously spoken to him.
"My Lord?"
"Was there...," He was not sure if he could voice his concerns as he knew that he did not wish to know the answer. "Have you located the dwarf or the child?"
The younger, dark haired elf shook his head solemnly. "No but we shall continue to search the area for any sign that will lead us to them."
Elrond glanced down to cast his normally stern but now concerned eyes across the pale elven features which were contorted slightly in pain.
"We will find your child Legolas." He whispered softly, reaching out to gently stroke away the strands of blond hair that lay across the younger elf's face. "But you must promise me that you stay well away from those who try to harm you."
~*~
End of Flash Back
~*~
"He did not wake for eight days, many times during those few days we feared that he would wake at all." Elrond sighed heavily. His head was lowered almost out of shame as he continued to explain his part in Aranel's separation from those who should have cared for her. "When he finally opened his eyes I remember almost wishing that he had died." He paused at Aranel's sharp intake of breath, but refused to take back what had been said.
Now was not a time for untruths, today everything would be laid bare and shown for what it really was.
"How could I possibly explain to him that he was well, he had survived but that both his child and dearest friend had been lost? I had to explain that could never return to Minas Tirith to his friends and lover." Elrond looked up finally meeting with Aranel's tear filled eyes. "Seeing you now I know that I should have searched harder, I should have forced my warriors to increase the area that they were scouring but in my heart I did not truly believe that one so young could have survived."
"But what about Gimli?" Tavaril spoke up. "Did you not think that he would have cared for her?"
"I believed that if he was indeed alive and had the child in his care then he would have travelled to Mirkwood, to place the child with its family but it seems that the dwarf felt he could not do so."
"He did not trust you." Aranel whispered, finally gaining the courage to speak up. Elrond's tale had filled her with both hope and disappointment, her whole family had been torn apart each believing the other had not survived when each of them was very much alive and well. "Gimli believe that you would keep me locked away with out freedom in order to protect the stability the race of men had found."
Elrond nodded. "The dwarf was wise for Legolas has spent little time interacting with others since the day he thought lost you. He lives alone in the forest visited only by myself and his close family."
"Why was Aragorn told of his death?" Tavaril ventured to ask. "Surely he would have been able to visit Legolas and have kept the love that everyone speaks of alive rather than destroying it all together."
Elrond shook his head slightly before reaching out for his wine glass once again he swallowed a mouthful of the sweet liquid before gripping the glass firmly between both hands, resting it gently on his lap.
"It was easier of everyone if all ties were severed. The King would never have been allowed to travel alone which would mean informing a number of his guards of the situation. There would be no assurance that the information would not be leaked. No," The elf lord attempted to convince himself. "It was the right decision at the time."
A knock at the door startled them.
Elrond stood placing his glass back on the table before straightening his robes.
"Come." He snapped, demanding the person behind the door to enter quickly.
All three froze as Arwen floated into her father's chambers, her floor length silver robes flowing softly around her.
"Ada." Her eyes glanced up at Aranel and Tavaril but did not linger on them for long before returning her gaze to her father. "Noon meal is ready to be served in the main hall I thought that I would accompany you since you have spent much of this morning cooped up in your chambers."
"Aye, you company would be welcome Arwen as I have much to discuss with you before this evening." Elrond stepped closer to his daughter but paused and glanced back at the two still sitting on the window seat watching his every move. They both appeared so young he thought, far too young to be concerned with such complex situations. "I sent word to your elven father, Aranel I have no doubt that he is making his way to Minas Tirith as we speak. Tavaril," He turned to meet the dark expressive eyes of his nephew. "Perhaps you should assist Aranel in preparing for his arrival, I am sure that your cousin, the Princess Lote, would be so kind as to lend Aranel a robe to wear, one that is appropriate for her station."
Tavaril nodded but grimaced as soon as Elrond turned back to face Arwen. Lote was not the easiest of individuals to get along with. Asking to borrow one of her robes for a she-elf Lote did not know would be one interesting conversation he would prefer to avoid.
~*~
TBC...
Please review, let me know what you think.
Next Chapter: Legolas returns to Minas Tirith for the first time in Eighteen years.
Chapter Nine
Legolas patted his hand reassuringly against his horse's neck as he forced his well loved mare into a faster pace he hoped desperately that she would be able to continue at this speed until they reached the tall, imposing gates of Minas Tirith. He could feel her enjoyment at being allowed to run freely through the forest after being cooped up with him for so long as he continued with his reclusive lifestyle but he was also aware that due to this she was unused to maintaining such high speeds.
They raced pasted trees and small human villages but Legolas would stop to rest at none, he was determined to reach Minas Tirith by nightfall, the quicker he reached his destination the less time his mind had to dwell on the infinite number of reactions his appearance could cause not only his daughter but those he had spent so much time with in the past.
The letter Lord Elrond had sent him had contained little detail of how Aranel had been found. He desperately wanted to know how she had survived to adulthood after her supposed death eighteen years ago, but as he thought further he realised that his live since the attack was a mirror of hers, for he too had been hidden to all but those closest to him. Almost all but a small minority of family and friends believed that he too had died. He had heard that the memorial ceremony held in his honour had drawn one of the largest gatherings of elves and men in recent history and his statue, placed in one of the large communal gardens, was often visited.
He had hated, and still hated, the idea of being kept hidden but at the time he had offered little resistance when both Elrond and his father had told him of their plans for him, the death of his daughter still fresh in his mind had greatly diminished his ability to argue against the decisions of his elders and so the decision had been made for him.
Oh how he regretted it now.
He wondered how his daughter had lived, how she had looked growing up and how she behaved. He had to understand that she would be nothing like him for he had had no input or influence on her upbringing at all.
Slowly he began to blame his own inability to defend himself against his father's wishes for the life he had lived secluded and alone without that of his child.
He shook his head to try and rid himself of his depressive thoughts that attempted to consume his soul, causing a few of long, blond strands to become tangled as they whipped energetically behind him due to the speed he was travelling.
The sun had almost reached its highest point in the clear, cloudless sky above him, the shadows now small and offering little shade as the trees became sparsely scattered. He knew it would not be more than a few hours before Minas Tirith became visible to his elven eyes.
A shiver shot down his spine in anticipation.
It would not be long now.
~*~
"Aranel I am afraid that a great number of secrets were created eighteen years ago that, at the time, I and many others believed were made in the best interests of all who were concerned." Elrond began. He watched the expressions on the faces of the two young elves beside him carefully, making sure that he was aware of any change in their moods whilst he was talking. Both were currently curious, although Aranel was clearly, and understandably, nervous.
"The attack on your elven father," he began, "was orchestrated by those who believed that your existence would cause future problems for the royal family. Men have a long history of their kingdoms being torn apart by their king's illegitimate heirs."
"But Aranel was..., is, no threat to the throne!" Tavaril interrupted quickly.
"No, but they had no way of knowing that she would not be. If she had been born a male and Prince Cadell had met with an unfortunate accident then Aranel would have been well with in her rights to challenge Aloysius for control of the throne due to their similar ages." He paused to make sure that they both understood before continuing. "The race of men had been though so much upset mainly due to the 'War of the Ring' that many were unwilling to let anything jeopardise the peace that they appear to have gained since then. You were supposed to have paid for that piece with your life Aranel and that of your father and Gimli, but obviously they were unable to complete what they had set out to achieve." He sighed loudly. "I will tell you what occurred from my own point of view as I know no other but I am aware that my version of events may differ slightly from others opinions but I pray that you listen carefully for I have not spoken of this to anyone other than yourselves since the event itself."
He watched as both of the younger elves nodded, but neither of them spoke they seemed to be caught on his every word whist desperately waiting for the next.
"I was visiting Minas Tirith when the event occurred, a messenger, I assume that he was one of those who had been part of the attack on your father alerted the palace that Legolas had been fatally injured when he had crossed paths with a group of Orc's on his journey back to Mirkwood. Aragorn was not alerted immediately as I believe that he was taking part in a meeting with many important members of the court so I left with a small number of my warriors, *elvish warriors*." He emphasised. "It did not take as long as I had expected to reach the sight of the attack for the event had taken place closer to Mirkwoods boarders than to Minas Tirith." Elrond took a deep breath before reaching out for a crystal glass of red wine which sat on a small desk to his side. He sipped it slowly as Aranel and Tavaril watched him, still completely enrapt in his tale.
Placing his glass back down upon the table he risked glancing up and meeting the she-elf's gaze. Her eyes no longer contained the nervousness but instead now held a look of intrigue.
"This is where my version of events will differ from most others." He said slowly, running his fingers through his hair for just a moment. "Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, did not die as has been told to all but a very select few.
~*~
Flash Back
~*~
"My Lord?"
The voice of one of his warriors interrupted his concentration. Elrond sat back on to the hard, dry ground, slowly pulling back from his examination of the severely lacerated and blood soaked body of the young Mirkwood prince.
"He still lives." He muttered, answering the unasked question. "But barely."
"There were no Orc's here my lord." Another of his protectors spoke as he walked into the clearing where the prince's unmoving body lay. "I do not wish to make accusations with out proof but I believe this was an attack made by men, the cuts on the Princes body are far to clean to have been made by an Orc blade and the ground would be far more disturbed than it is."
Elrond nodded, indicating that he was listening carefully, his mind quickly processing the information searching for an appropriate course of action to take. He could not risk returning Legolas to Minas Tirith, surely if those who had attacked him discovered that they had not succeeded and that the blond elf still lived they would try again. If anything men were persistence creatures, of that he was sure.
Legolas shivered, noticing this Elrond reached up to remove his cloak, unclasping it before laying it gently and with the greatest of care over Legolas.
"I can not heal him with out the necessary equipment." He told those close to him. "Prepare the horses for we must head straight for Mirkwood."
"Aye, my Lord." Both answered simultaneously.
"Leith." Elrond called, halting the movements of one of the elves which had previously spoken to him.
"My Lord?"
"Was there...," He was not sure if he could voice his concerns as he knew that he did not wish to know the answer. "Have you located the dwarf or the child?"
The younger, dark haired elf shook his head solemnly. "No but we shall continue to search the area for any sign that will lead us to them."
Elrond glanced down to cast his normally stern but now concerned eyes across the pale elven features which were contorted slightly in pain.
"We will find your child Legolas." He whispered softly, reaching out to gently stroke away the strands of blond hair that lay across the younger elf's face. "But you must promise me that you stay well away from those who try to harm you."
~*~
End of Flash Back
~*~
"He did not wake for eight days, many times during those few days we feared that he would wake at all." Elrond sighed heavily. His head was lowered almost out of shame as he continued to explain his part in Aranel's separation from those who should have cared for her. "When he finally opened his eyes I remember almost wishing that he had died." He paused at Aranel's sharp intake of breath, but refused to take back what had been said.
Now was not a time for untruths, today everything would be laid bare and shown for what it really was.
"How could I possibly explain to him that he was well, he had survived but that both his child and dearest friend had been lost? I had to explain that could never return to Minas Tirith to his friends and lover." Elrond looked up finally meeting with Aranel's tear filled eyes. "Seeing you now I know that I should have searched harder, I should have forced my warriors to increase the area that they were scouring but in my heart I did not truly believe that one so young could have survived."
"But what about Gimli?" Tavaril spoke up. "Did you not think that he would have cared for her?"
"I believed that if he was indeed alive and had the child in his care then he would have travelled to Mirkwood, to place the child with its family but it seems that the dwarf felt he could not do so."
"He did not trust you." Aranel whispered, finally gaining the courage to speak up. Elrond's tale had filled her with both hope and disappointment, her whole family had been torn apart each believing the other had not survived when each of them was very much alive and well. "Gimli believe that you would keep me locked away with out freedom in order to protect the stability the race of men had found."
Elrond nodded. "The dwarf was wise for Legolas has spent little time interacting with others since the day he thought lost you. He lives alone in the forest visited only by myself and his close family."
"Why was Aragorn told of his death?" Tavaril ventured to ask. "Surely he would have been able to visit Legolas and have kept the love that everyone speaks of alive rather than destroying it all together."
Elrond shook his head slightly before reaching out for his wine glass once again he swallowed a mouthful of the sweet liquid before gripping the glass firmly between both hands, resting it gently on his lap.
"It was easier of everyone if all ties were severed. The King would never have been allowed to travel alone which would mean informing a number of his guards of the situation. There would be no assurance that the information would not be leaked. No," The elf lord attempted to convince himself. "It was the right decision at the time."
A knock at the door startled them.
Elrond stood placing his glass back on the table before straightening his robes.
"Come." He snapped, demanding the person behind the door to enter quickly.
All three froze as Arwen floated into her father's chambers, her floor length silver robes flowing softly around her.
"Ada." Her eyes glanced up at Aranel and Tavaril but did not linger on them for long before returning her gaze to her father. "Noon meal is ready to be served in the main hall I thought that I would accompany you since you have spent much of this morning cooped up in your chambers."
"Aye, you company would be welcome Arwen as I have much to discuss with you before this evening." Elrond stepped closer to his daughter but paused and glanced back at the two still sitting on the window seat watching his every move. They both appeared so young he thought, far too young to be concerned with such complex situations. "I sent word to your elven father, Aranel I have no doubt that he is making his way to Minas Tirith as we speak. Tavaril," He turned to meet the dark expressive eyes of his nephew. "Perhaps you should assist Aranel in preparing for his arrival, I am sure that your cousin, the Princess Lote, would be so kind as to lend Aranel a robe to wear, one that is appropriate for her station."
Tavaril nodded but grimaced as soon as Elrond turned back to face Arwen. Lote was not the easiest of individuals to get along with. Asking to borrow one of her robes for a she-elf Lote did not know would be one interesting conversation he would prefer to avoid.
~*~
TBC...
Please review, let me know what you think.
Next Chapter: Legolas returns to Minas Tirith for the first time in Eighteen years.