CHAPTER IX – THE PRINCE'S TALE
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked in a low whisper.
"Yes, Sam?" replied the hobbit, at the same volume.
"Do you think Legolas is all right? I mean, I've never seen anyone look so scared before."
"Nor have I, Sam. Gandalf and Aragorn seemed especially uneasy about it. They kept saying that this had happened in the past."
"Your guess is as good as mine, Mr. Frodo." After a pause, Sam said, "The sun's on her way up. I think I'll get breakfast started; I don't think that anyone got a proper night's sleep." Sam crawled out from beneath his blankets and stretched out his arms with a wide yawn, then busied himself with cooking. This morning's breakfast would involve less maintenance since every piece of wood within a five league radius would be wet from last night's downpour.
Frodo put his arms behind his head and sighed. This mystery about Legolas' past was deeply troubling him. He thought about it for a long while until he was interrupted by Sam announcing that breakfast was ready. Everyone else had awoken and were now sitting together on either rocks or logs as the ground, too, was moist with last night's rain. Legolas was not sitting among them; he was sleeping at the far side of camp near the remaining ashes of the fire. Aragorn was sleeping about a foot away.
"I think it would be in our best interest to remain here and recover our strength. It would mean that we would have to go at a faster pace tomorrow, but having a decent rest would be worth it," Boromir said, stabbing aimlessly at the food on his plate.
"No, we must keep going. The Enemy may be aware of our position and we cannot put ourselves or the task in danger. We cannot afford to lose time now, either," said Gandalf.
"Should I be waking Strider?" Sam asked, swallowing his last mouthful of breakfast.
The wizard shook his head. "Let him rest; he needs it."
"What about Legolas?" Frodo asked.
"Let him rest as well. Boromir has already built a stretcher for him to be carried, much as he may dislike it. Aggravating his would may do worse harm that you know," Gandalf said, his voice quieting.
"Gandalf, I think we have a right to know what happened to Legolas that is causing all of this," Frodo said with an unintended harshness. He immediately bit his tongue.
"You must understand, Frodo that Legolas has not revealed his past to you for your own benefit. His past is- in the simplest terms- a horror story; the ones that haunt you, make you bow before them because you have been so beaten down by them you don't have the strength to defy them. Murder. Pain. Grief. Terror. I ask all of you not to press him for answers. If or when he wants to tell you, he will."
Frodo swallowed hard and nodded. He glanced at Legolas, who was still asleep, and saw that Gandalf was right; Legolas did appear to be in pain, afraid, and sad, even as he slept. Frodo remembered Bilbo telling him that Elves only shut their eyes to sleep if they are injured or extremely tired. The hobbit said nothing else on the topic.
An hour later, the Fellowship packed camp. As the hobbits scurried about, Boromir went to wake up Aragorn. The son of the Steward of Gondor did his best to be quiet as to not wake the prince. Gently, he budged Aragorn's shoulder with his foot. The Ranger must've been in a deep sleep for it took Boromir a few minutes to get him awake.
"What time is it?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
"Nearly ten, I'd say. I regret having to wake you; you slept as though you hadn't rested in a long while."
"I was up with Legolas most of the night and into the early hours of the morning. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but I suppose that I didn't realize how tired I was."
"You'll need energy for today. Gandalf doesn't want to worsen the Elf's condition or wake him up now that he's asleep, so we're carrying him on a stretcher that I built this morning."
Aragorn looked relieved to hear those words. He knew that Legolas had not had a proper night's sleep since "It" happened, and even that was a long period for any Elf to go without rest. These thoughts made him wonder how Ithil was faring.
"We're leaving now, Aragorn. I'll need help getting Legolas onto the stretcher."
The Ranger quickly rolled up his blanket and tucked it into his pack. He and Boromir laid their cloaks over the wood of the stretcher to make it more comfortable and Boromir laid his rolled blanket at one end of it as a makeshift pillow. Just as the Fellowship was making its way out, Boromir and Aragorn lifted Legolas slowly onto the stretcher and joined the rest in the continuation of their trek.
They kept a good pace all that morning. Thankfully, the terrain had been mostly flat and grassy, so Legolas would not be woken by a careless foot placement on a rocky hillside. When the late afternoon came about, the hobbits asked for a quick rest. Gandalf allowed this and Boromir and Aragorn did not argue. They gently set the stretcher on the ground and then sat down and took long draughts from their waterskins. After the hobbits had also had a drink and something to eat to hold them over until dusk, the Fellowship started off again for the remainder of the afternoon. At about seven o'clock they began searching for a place to make camp for the night. Their swiftness slowed as they all kept eyes out for areas with tree cover. As Boromir tried to squint through the growing darkness, he heard Legolas shift positions on the stretcher- the first sign of life they had seen in him all day. The Elf shifted onto his back and opened his eyes a little less than halfway. He drew in a sharp breath and held it for a moment before exhaling. It seemed to Boromir that Legolas had glanced up at him before closing his eyes again.
"I think I may have found a place to set camp, but I would like to ensure that it is safe from enemies. Aragorn, if you would accompany me, please," said Gandalf.
"Of course."
Again, the stretch was lightly set down. Aragorn quickly followed Gandalf into the small patch of trees. The hobbits all heaved the packs off their backs and collapsed onto the ground. Gimli approached Boromir, who was sitting next to the head of the stretcher.
"How is he?" Gimli asked. Much as he disliked the Elf, it was never easy to see someone in this amount of pain.
"The wound is healing," Boromir replied. He did not want to say anything about his uncertainty or about the vague facts he learned of Legolas' past. He was about to open his mouth again when Legolas stirred. His sapphire eyes opened completely this time, though they were fighting being closed.
"My brothers and I had been sent as ambassadors to Mordor," he began, almost in a whisper. "Orcs had been trespassing into my father's realm, killing innocents as they pleased. We met with one of the generals and informed them that if any of them were seen in Mirkwood again, they would be killed without warning. There were some soldiers there who had heard this and as my brothers and I were departing, they attacked us. We were greatly outnumbered and were thrown in the dungeons. For nearly ten months we were captives there, but were not left in the cells to rot. We were…" he paused. "The Orcs saw no reason to kill us swiftly and tortured us slowly. They burned us, beat us, and branded us. Eleven of by brothers were murdered…" Another long pause in which Legolas had to regain his emotional composure. "Calen, Ithil, and I were separated. I was taken to a tower. There was something there that…it…" Legolas' voice hitched and he was shaking slightly.
"Legolas, you don't have to tell us," Boromir said, seeing the Elf's sudden distress.
"Sauron was in that room; I've never felt something so evil and impure. I barely remember what happened after that. Ithil and I were rescued by Haldir of Lothlórien. They never found Calen. Haldir and his men risked returning to Mordor and found the bodies of my brothers. We buried them next to my mother," Legolas said. He decided to leave it at that.
"My Gods… I'm so sorry, Legolas," Boromir bowed his head. He couldn't even begin to comprehend Legolas' grief, nor did he wish to. He heard someone sniffling behind him. There stood the hobbits with wide, terrified eyes; Pippin was crying. Frodo no longer wished to know what had happened.
Soon after Aragorn and Gandalf returned bearing good news of the forest, but presented it to a suddenly depressed group. Aragorn and Boromir picked the stretched back up and bore it to the area that had been chosen for that night's sleep. That is, if anyone could sleep after hearing the tale of Legolas, one of the remaining princes of Mirkwood...
Boromir knew that what Legolas had said had been extremely vague compared to what he may have said had the hobbits not been listening. Well, elusive or not, Boromir was finding it very hard to sleep. He turned onto his back and then onto his right side. He could see Pippin still shaking slightly under his blankets. Merry wasn't even trying to sleep; sitting up against a tree with his blanket over his legs, watching over his younger cousin and best friend. Boromir smiled and remembered a time when that would've easily been him looking over Faramir. "Trouble sleeping?"
Merry jumped slightly. "Yea. Just that Legolas and his brothers and everything." He shivered.
"I understand. Do you wish that you were still oblivious to his past?" Boromir asked, propping himself up on his elbow.
"I don't know. I'm glad that he trusts us enough to tell us something like that and now we aren't left guessing, but it frightened Pippin and me and I'm sure it made everyone else shiver too. You?"
"I'm relieved that he's told us," Boromir replied truthfully.
"I haven't seen any physical signs of his past, though, except for the fact that he doesn't eat. That's pretty hard to imagine when you're a hobbit," he said with a small laugh, making Boromir smile slightly. He, Aragorn, and Gandalf were the only members of the Fellowship that had seen the scars, the burn, and Boromir wondered if Legolas was going to reveal those eventually; most of him hoped not.
"Who's on watch?" Boromir asked.
"Gimli."
Boromir stood up and paced to where the Dwarf was sitting. "Evening," he said quietly. Glancing over, he saw Legolas not too far away.
"Evening," Gimli replied gruffly. "What brings you out here?"
"Trouble sleeping." Boromir sat down.
"The Elf's story?"
Boromir nodded.
"A tale like that would shake the toughest being. His strength and determination has earned him my respect-" Gimli suddenly halted and stood up. He glanced around and his hand automatically went to his axe.
"What did you hear?"
"Shh." Gimli stared into the forest for a long moment then relaxed and resumed his sitting position. "Thought I saw something in the trees. I think I might be getting paranoid."
"You can never be too careful when you're responsible for the safety of your companions," Boromir said, recalling a not-so-pleasant incident with his younger brother and a few soldiers. He shook it off and asked, "Who has next watch?"
"I offered to take the night."
"That is a benevolent task. I think that, besides the nights of late, we have been the only two unaffected by the emotions in the rest of the Fellowship."
"Well, that's changed hasn't it?"
"Ai, it has," Boromir said with an empty laugh. "Would you mind if I kept you company?"
"No, not at all, lad," Gimli replied.
For the rest of the night until dawn broke over the Fellowship the Man and Dwarf remained awake, conversing and sharing tales. Boromir came to learn that Gimli had felt a lot more sympathy and reverence towards the Elf than he had been letting on. Gimli discovered what a marvellous sense of humour Boromir had because of spending so much time with his younger sibling. Little by little, the Fellowship was growing closer together…