Chapter 3
"Are you certain, Hyldur, nothing may be done within the Realm? Is there no other way?"
The silver-haired Healer glanced at the rigid back of the prince, then turned to the King.
"There is nothing, my liege," he answered, his breath soft, "She will die without the skill of Lord Elrond."
"She goes to Imladris, Father."
The Prince's voice was soft, with thinly veiled steel, brooking no refusal. Thranduil swiftly turned his head to his son, dismissing the Healer. When they were alone, he stood, looking at him, watching him stare out the window, past the Forest, his back to his King.
"I am King here, Legolas; I lay the laws and edicts. It is I who will decide this girl's fate."
He laid a hand on his son's shoulder.
"You will allow her to go to Imladris," said Legolas, "You have already made your decision concerning her. What troubles you is that I wish to go with her."
"Av'aníron nautho allen a i fuin en taur, iônen."
His expression unreadable, Legolas continued to gaze out the night-filled window. In a firm voice, he said:
"Im mellon en corf-cyll Frodo, adar. Maethannen erin tailf o Pelennor, dan in chirth o Mordor, na Naug, Ithron, tad Perin, a i aran o Gondor. Im ú-chên, adar. I am the best escort for her through the Forest and the Mountains; I and a company of my choosing."
Thranduil thought over this, then, sighing, he took his hand from his son's arm and placed it along the bridge of his nose, rubbing gently.
"You speak truly, Legolas. I will grant you your company and escort. Be ready quickly."
His son turned to him. With his back to the darkening sky, he was framed by the first night stars, causing his vivid blue eyes to become black-blue and his golden hair to be silvered. There was much wisdom in his son, Thranduil realized; so much about him had been changed by that cursed Sauron and the War of the Ring.
Gravely, the Prince of Mirkwood bowed to his King, and strode out of the throne room.
"Aralas, iôn vîn gâr noe sain, maer ego um, av'istum."
The Healers tightened the restraints, then mounted their horses as one. Nodding his head, Legolas waved farewell to his father, and turned to his company.
"Noro mae, iônen." whispered Thranduil, at that moment wanting nothing more than his son's safe return.
They rode swiftly, always moving through the trees at a hurried pace, stopping only to rest their horses. Once breath was caught and strength renewed, they set off again along the Wood-Elf Road.
"We will reach the edge of the Forest after nightfall, Legolas, if we are able to continue this pace."
"Yes Elenion, it is as you say. We will rest beside the Old Ford; at daybreak, we will cross and head toward the Misty Mountains."
"Will we take the High Pass, Legolas?" asked Rylindë.
"Yes, but only after our horses have properly rested, then we will take the Pass, and end at the borders of Imladris. Do you approve, Hyldur?"
The Healer looked thoughtful as they rode, then, looking back at the woman's silent form, he answered:
"There is no pace too quick, my Lord. It is a struggle for her to even cry out in pain."
Finally, they reached the edge of the Forest and made camp, setting their field tents up quickly, Legolas with his two oldest friends. As Urelindë lit a fire, the company gathered together for warmth.
"Tell us a tale, Legolas; one of your adventures."
Legolas looked at Thraldor, sighed, and made himself more comfortable. Staring into the fire, thinking of an appropriate memory, he looked up as he felt the eyes of another.
Haldith was watching him, looking at him with that piercing gaze identical to that of her brother.
"The moon shone dark,
Fear in her heart,
As Evil marched under her skies.
Hope had fled
From those who would hold it,
Courage remained with
Only a few.
Three hundred to ten thousand strong,
There was no hope for day or dawn,
Yet still they would fight,
To bring the end of Saruman.
As swords grew chill,
And from eyes fell tears,
Hope came at last.
They came with bows and blades,
Came as Hope began to fade.
As men caught them in their sight,
Hearts grew strong and courage rose,
As they watched the Galadhrim.
Wonder at their beauty,
And relief at their coming,
The soon King of Gondor welcomed Haldir."
So beginning, Legolas told of the battle at Helm's Deep, and the heroic death of Haldir.
When he had finished, his companions nodded and went off to their tents to sleep; all except Haldith. She sat by the fire, staring into the flames. Legolas sat down beside her.
"You have been patient, Haldith of Lothlórien," he remarked.
Shoulders stiff and rigid, she replied, "My brother taught me well. He would always say the most fulfilling answer would come with patience, as well as the most satisfying target."
He was silent, then said softly, "He was a brave warrior, Haldith; he died fighting for his people, his friends. You know of Aragorn, son of Arathorn?"
"Yes," she answered quietly, as if a normal tone would bring tears, "He is the High King of Gondor, last heir to the Men of Númenor. Haldir spoke of him many times."
"Haldir died in his arms. I have never seen Aragorn in such despair; he fought with a vengeance and desperation unknown to any. Aragorn slew more Orcs than either myself, or Gimli."
"Gimli was your Dwarf companion, was he not?"
He nodded; she smiled faintly.
"I remember him, on our scouting party through the woods of Lothlórien. He breathed so loud, I could have shot him in the dark."
Legolas chuckled, "Yes, I remember that."
Haldith sighed, then stood.
"Thank you, Legolas, for telling me the battle in which Haldir died; it does much to ease my grief, to know he died defending even those who had no claim on him, to know he died with honor and courage. Good night."
As he watched her go, his heart mourned for Haldir, and Tinylia, and Tándil, and Celebros, and…there were so many who had fallen in that battle, so many who had fallen because of the treachery of Saruman, the evil of Sauron. Melancholy, he put out the fire, cast an eye on the horses, then went to his tent.
A.N.:
Aralas meaning "Noble Leaf"
Translation:
Av'aníron nautho allen a i fuin en taur, iônen I do not like to think of you and the dangers of the Forest, my son
Im mellon en corf-cyll Frodo, adar. Maethannen erin tailf o Pelennor, dan in chirth o Mordor, na Naug, Ithron, tad Perin, a i aran o Gondor. Im ú-chên, adar I was companion to Ring-bearer Frodo, Father. I fought on the Fields of Pelennor, against the armies of Mordor, alongside a Dwarf, a Wizard, two Halflings, and the King of Gondor. I am no child, Father
Aralas, iôn vîn gâr noe sain, maer egor um, av'istam Aralas, our son has changed; for good or ill, it is yet to be seen
Noro mae, iônen Ride well, my son