Title: Shadows of Gold
Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine
Rating: PG-13
Summary: see chapter one
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any of its characters. All unrecognizable characters belong solely to me so do not touch. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intention to amuse.
A/N: see my bio-page for other updates.
************
Aragorn stood alone, dark hair blowing softly as he gazed at the dark treeline in the near distance. Behind him the soldiers slept or kept watch. His hearing, unnaturally keen for a Man, picked up the soft murmurs of a few who were still awake, discussing their quest, the gold and the eagerness to spill the blood of the savages.
He also heard when footsteps came up behind him, stopping a few feet from where he stood.
"Mirkwood's trees are darker than the night sky," Faramir observed.
"Aye, for there is no more light of hope within those shadowed branches." He turned to face the younger man, frowning softly at the distance between them. "You need not keep distance from a mere captain, my prince. And your company is always welcomed."
After a moment's hesitation, Faramir stepped up next to him though keeping his eyes trained on the vast woods that laid before them.
"This is my first time so far from home," Faramir admitted, "It is my brother who sees to important tasks, traveling to many lands. I must admit that I am a bit excited to be here."
Aragorn smiled; the young prince was more than just 'a bit' excited but didn't want to appear overeager before him.
"This is my first journey to these woods. I know not what we will find and that is always exciting."
Having never had a casual conversation with the captain, mainly due to his father's and brother's obvious dislike to mingle with non-royals, Faramir dared to continue, voice soft as always.
"When I was a young boy I was told tales of the Wood-elves. How they differed greatly from their brethren, the Noldors who had sailed the waters and returned wiser and fairer. Many say that the Wood-elves have lost all fairness, it having been devoured by the shadows. My brother says that they have infact become Orcs."
Not about to ridicule Faramir's brother in the younger man's presence, Aragorn merely raised a brow. Realizing that Faramir awaited his response, he chose his words carefully.
"We all have our own visions of these beings. Some more accurate than others though we have no proof that any of us are right. Personally, I find the chances that Wood-elves do exist close to none."
"Strange words for one who accepted this mission then, is it not?" Boromir asked, appearing seemingly out of no where. Nearing them, he gave Faramir a disaproving look before turning his eyes back on the captain.
"I serve your father and I obey his commands. Yet I do not necesarily have to agree with them."
"Do you think my father a fool? That he simply believes everything he hears?"
"I did not say that."
"But you meant it. You may be in command of this mission but my father values my word over yours. You will do good to show him the rightful respect he deserves, commoner."
All his life he had worked in the palace and served his king, having been found wandering in the wilderness outside of Gondor at the age of six, abandoned and starving. He was given the duty of stable boy but that was all he had needed to rapidly climb his way up. At the age of 16 he was made a soldier of Gondor, his skills with a blade had even impressed the king himself. A few years later he had reached his rank of captain.
Such a rapid ascend had earned him respect from all, except the heir of Gondor. As a child Boromir always got things his way and strove for attention. After hearing how Aragorn, a orphaned commoner, became a great swordsman, the eldest prince was hard pressed to surpass him. However, though the prince's sword skills were very good, they could never compare with Aragorn's. That had driven the stake of jealousy into the prince's heart and the gap had only grown larger over the years, jealousy turning to hatred.
"Everyone has a right to speak their opinions, Boromoir," Faramir defended his captain.
The elder brother merely scoffed but allowed the matter to drop. As conceited and cold-hearted as he was, he still cared for his younger brother, though he would never admit it.
"This is why father wishes you to not talk to the simpletons; you believe too easily." The words weren't harsh but they did hold disaproval. Turning to Aragorn, his sneer appeared once more but he asked, "And what are your plans now, captain? The camp has been established so what will you have the men do tomorrow?"
"We will scout the outer border, study the situation rather than charging in blindly. We have arrived earlier than expected and the date your father gave me is still a week away, which gives us more time to familiarize ourselves with the woods."
"The soldiers of Gondor, sneeking about like cowarding mice?"
"That is the plan. Savages or not, I will not risk my men's lives eagerly."
Boromir glared but then scoffed and turned away, striding back to his tent where his second-in-command waited anxiously. The tent flap fell shut.
"He wishes only to please our father; he is not a very easy man to please," Faramir defended his brother's actions.
"I believe that. Still, though the point of this mission is to retrieve the gold my first priority lies in the safety of my men."
Faramir nodded but remained silent, deep in thought over something.
"Captain Aragorn...if you would just do as if for a moment and say that Wood-elves do live within that forest...do you think it right to simply invade their home and take what is theirs?"
He blinked, not having expected the question. Especially not from one of the royals, though Faramir wasn't like his brother and father. Once again, he chose his words carefully.
"If Wood-elves indeed dwell beneath those black branches and have indeed been the cause of many deaths, then my answer would be 'no'." He smiled at the younger man's surprised look. "There is not a race in Middle-earth left that doesn't do what is necesary to protect itself. Even Gondor has shedded the blood of peasants and innocents. Folk will look back to our quest and think nothing of the death of immortal beings in exchange for gold and fame."
Impressed by the captain's insights, Faramir nodded.
"You speak with much knowledge. More so than any Man I have ever heard, even my father. Who was your tutor in Gondor?"
"I had none. I've worked and fought all my life in Gondor."
The discussion was nearing personal yet Faramir was curious; not much was known of the captain's life before his arrival in Minas Tirith. The man never spoke of his past.
"I know what it is you ask yourself, my prince," Aragorn said when he heard the silence, "but I fear I cannot answer for I myself know not of the life I had before I swore my service to your father. It feels as if I never existed before that time."
"I was once told by an old woman that when someone forgets something it is usually something rather spectacular. Mayhap your early childhood was one of an amazing nature."
"Mayhap..." Aragorn mused, eyes absently turning to the skies. "I suppose I will never truly know."
Sensing the captain's need to be alone, Faramir cleared his throat.
"My brother may need my assitance so I should be taking my leave."
Aragorn nodded and inclined his head to the young royal.
"It has been a pleasure and an honor speaking with you, my lord."
"Like wise," he replied with a smile and after a few moments hesitation he patted the captain on his back before turning and walking towards the tent his brother had retired to not too long ago.
Aragorn smiled softly before redirecting his gaze to the dark treelines though his thoughts were now adrift. He never told anyone, but he did remember a few things of his hidden past. They were but glimpses and pieces of memories but they were enough for him to wish for his former childhood. Voices. He heard voices of his past; one in particular, whose tone was that of wisdom and kindness. He could never put a face on the voice but he felt a familiar pull on his heart every time it spoke. And a scent, though he could not iddentify it.
"I will never know..."
*************
"You were rather quiet this evening."
Legolas didn't need to look away from the panoramic view of the forest to know who it was who came to stand beside him. The strong scent of berries and pine and the warm feeling of comfort was always more than enough.
"I suppose I did not have much to say, ada."
The blond king raised a brow but only leaned next to his son against the railing of the balcony. For the longest while they stood in comfortable silence, taking in the night sounds and the stars' music.
"Haldir aproached me after the meal," Thranduil spoke up softly, continuing despite the tired sigh his son made, "He worries about you. All he wants is to see you happy but you sulk and mope whenever you are in his presence."
"I try my best not to, ada, but how can I pretend to be happy when my heart is so obviously not."
Now it was Thranduil's turn to sigh tiredly, though he felt it much more than his son.
Hearing the sound, Legolas looked worriedly over at his father. The older Elf looked weary despite his eternally youthful and fair face. But in his grass-green eyes Legolas could see the strain of hardship and he loathed himself for only contributing more upon his father's shoulders; his father, who had done nothing but love and care for him all his life, always putting his son's needs before his.
"I'm sorry, ada. I did not wish to make you upset."
Shaking his head, Thranduil pulled his only child into a deep embrace, kissing the smooth brow gently.
"Your father loves you, Legolas. Nothing you do could ever upset him."
Both blonds turned to the newcomer who silently aproached them, long robes making the only sound as they brushed the plush rug. Silver eyes deep with endless wisdom shone in the candle lights as he stepped onto the terrace.
"My sons on the other hand..."
Thranduil chuckled at his lover's sigh.
"Surely there wasn't too much damage."
Elrond gave him a exasperated look but smiled himself.
"Atleast there were no broken bones, this time. The unfortunate aspect of that is that they will be healed by tomorrow morn and will go on another ridiculous adventure. I had assumed that they would tire of hunting wargs and spiders after so many years."
"They certainly have inherited one of your more obvious traits; persistence."
"You mock me, Golden King?" Elrond raised a brow as he rested an arm around the other's waist.
"That's up to you to decide," was the smirking reply.
Legolas watched the two elders' bantering with a soft smile. He was happy for his father. As strong as their father-son relationship was, Thranduil's love for Elrond was also a key factor that helped heal the heart ache the golden king had suffered at the loss of his beloved wife whose immortal life had been drastically cut short at the jaws of a pack of wargs. His father had remained strong and in Middle-earth for the sake of his then toddling greenleaf but inside he was lonely and mourning.
The time of the Elves had ended yet there were few that still remained. Without their numbers and wariors, their lands had been overrun and claimed by Men and Orcs, forcing them to flee. Rivendell, having been so well known and open to many, had eventualy been claimed by Rohan and Elrond and what remained of his people had sought refuge in Mirkwood, which was the only Elven realm untouched for Men feared it.
Neither elven lords had ever met one another but the attraction had been obvious the moment their eyes locked. They would spend many hours together, talking or riding, but Legolas was never jealous; the sparkle in his father's eyes had shone brighter and brighter as the days went by and his smile had grown wider, even into laugher. No wizard's magic could have ever cured the king like the love offered to him by the peredhil.
"I will go check on the twins," Legolas said, wanting to give his father and lover their privacy. "Goodnight."
Elrond nodded but his father gathered him in another embrace, kissing his temple and whispering softly, "Goodnight, my son. All will be well."
Nodding, he was released and quietly made his way out. For a moment he turned to regard the two. His father had returned to Elrond's strong embrace and both stood there contently staring up at the night sky, the lore lord's long fingers gently running through his father's golden hair as Elrond spoke of the stars.
A small tug on his heart made Legolas wince but he ignored it and started down the hall, noting strangely how cold and lonesome it felt.
tbc...............
**************
Read & Review, please.
Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine
Rating: PG-13
Summary: see chapter one
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any of its characters. All unrecognizable characters belong solely to me so do not touch. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intention to amuse.
A/N: see my bio-page for other updates.
************
Aragorn stood alone, dark hair blowing softly as he gazed at the dark treeline in the near distance. Behind him the soldiers slept or kept watch. His hearing, unnaturally keen for a Man, picked up the soft murmurs of a few who were still awake, discussing their quest, the gold and the eagerness to spill the blood of the savages.
He also heard when footsteps came up behind him, stopping a few feet from where he stood.
"Mirkwood's trees are darker than the night sky," Faramir observed.
"Aye, for there is no more light of hope within those shadowed branches." He turned to face the younger man, frowning softly at the distance between them. "You need not keep distance from a mere captain, my prince. And your company is always welcomed."
After a moment's hesitation, Faramir stepped up next to him though keeping his eyes trained on the vast woods that laid before them.
"This is my first time so far from home," Faramir admitted, "It is my brother who sees to important tasks, traveling to many lands. I must admit that I am a bit excited to be here."
Aragorn smiled; the young prince was more than just 'a bit' excited but didn't want to appear overeager before him.
"This is my first journey to these woods. I know not what we will find and that is always exciting."
Having never had a casual conversation with the captain, mainly due to his father's and brother's obvious dislike to mingle with non-royals, Faramir dared to continue, voice soft as always.
"When I was a young boy I was told tales of the Wood-elves. How they differed greatly from their brethren, the Noldors who had sailed the waters and returned wiser and fairer. Many say that the Wood-elves have lost all fairness, it having been devoured by the shadows. My brother says that they have infact become Orcs."
Not about to ridicule Faramir's brother in the younger man's presence, Aragorn merely raised a brow. Realizing that Faramir awaited his response, he chose his words carefully.
"We all have our own visions of these beings. Some more accurate than others though we have no proof that any of us are right. Personally, I find the chances that Wood-elves do exist close to none."
"Strange words for one who accepted this mission then, is it not?" Boromir asked, appearing seemingly out of no where. Nearing them, he gave Faramir a disaproving look before turning his eyes back on the captain.
"I serve your father and I obey his commands. Yet I do not necesarily have to agree with them."
"Do you think my father a fool? That he simply believes everything he hears?"
"I did not say that."
"But you meant it. You may be in command of this mission but my father values my word over yours. You will do good to show him the rightful respect he deserves, commoner."
All his life he had worked in the palace and served his king, having been found wandering in the wilderness outside of Gondor at the age of six, abandoned and starving. He was given the duty of stable boy but that was all he had needed to rapidly climb his way up. At the age of 16 he was made a soldier of Gondor, his skills with a blade had even impressed the king himself. A few years later he had reached his rank of captain.
Such a rapid ascend had earned him respect from all, except the heir of Gondor. As a child Boromir always got things his way and strove for attention. After hearing how Aragorn, a orphaned commoner, became a great swordsman, the eldest prince was hard pressed to surpass him. However, though the prince's sword skills were very good, they could never compare with Aragorn's. That had driven the stake of jealousy into the prince's heart and the gap had only grown larger over the years, jealousy turning to hatred.
"Everyone has a right to speak their opinions, Boromoir," Faramir defended his captain.
The elder brother merely scoffed but allowed the matter to drop. As conceited and cold-hearted as he was, he still cared for his younger brother, though he would never admit it.
"This is why father wishes you to not talk to the simpletons; you believe too easily." The words weren't harsh but they did hold disaproval. Turning to Aragorn, his sneer appeared once more but he asked, "And what are your plans now, captain? The camp has been established so what will you have the men do tomorrow?"
"We will scout the outer border, study the situation rather than charging in blindly. We have arrived earlier than expected and the date your father gave me is still a week away, which gives us more time to familiarize ourselves with the woods."
"The soldiers of Gondor, sneeking about like cowarding mice?"
"That is the plan. Savages or not, I will not risk my men's lives eagerly."
Boromir glared but then scoffed and turned away, striding back to his tent where his second-in-command waited anxiously. The tent flap fell shut.
"He wishes only to please our father; he is not a very easy man to please," Faramir defended his brother's actions.
"I believe that. Still, though the point of this mission is to retrieve the gold my first priority lies in the safety of my men."
Faramir nodded but remained silent, deep in thought over something.
"Captain Aragorn...if you would just do as if for a moment and say that Wood-elves do live within that forest...do you think it right to simply invade their home and take what is theirs?"
He blinked, not having expected the question. Especially not from one of the royals, though Faramir wasn't like his brother and father. Once again, he chose his words carefully.
"If Wood-elves indeed dwell beneath those black branches and have indeed been the cause of many deaths, then my answer would be 'no'." He smiled at the younger man's surprised look. "There is not a race in Middle-earth left that doesn't do what is necesary to protect itself. Even Gondor has shedded the blood of peasants and innocents. Folk will look back to our quest and think nothing of the death of immortal beings in exchange for gold and fame."
Impressed by the captain's insights, Faramir nodded.
"You speak with much knowledge. More so than any Man I have ever heard, even my father. Who was your tutor in Gondor?"
"I had none. I've worked and fought all my life in Gondor."
The discussion was nearing personal yet Faramir was curious; not much was known of the captain's life before his arrival in Minas Tirith. The man never spoke of his past.
"I know what it is you ask yourself, my prince," Aragorn said when he heard the silence, "but I fear I cannot answer for I myself know not of the life I had before I swore my service to your father. It feels as if I never existed before that time."
"I was once told by an old woman that when someone forgets something it is usually something rather spectacular. Mayhap your early childhood was one of an amazing nature."
"Mayhap..." Aragorn mused, eyes absently turning to the skies. "I suppose I will never truly know."
Sensing the captain's need to be alone, Faramir cleared his throat.
"My brother may need my assitance so I should be taking my leave."
Aragorn nodded and inclined his head to the young royal.
"It has been a pleasure and an honor speaking with you, my lord."
"Like wise," he replied with a smile and after a few moments hesitation he patted the captain on his back before turning and walking towards the tent his brother had retired to not too long ago.
Aragorn smiled softly before redirecting his gaze to the dark treelines though his thoughts were now adrift. He never told anyone, but he did remember a few things of his hidden past. They were but glimpses and pieces of memories but they were enough for him to wish for his former childhood. Voices. He heard voices of his past; one in particular, whose tone was that of wisdom and kindness. He could never put a face on the voice but he felt a familiar pull on his heart every time it spoke. And a scent, though he could not iddentify it.
"I will never know..."
*************
"You were rather quiet this evening."
Legolas didn't need to look away from the panoramic view of the forest to know who it was who came to stand beside him. The strong scent of berries and pine and the warm feeling of comfort was always more than enough.
"I suppose I did not have much to say, ada."
The blond king raised a brow but only leaned next to his son against the railing of the balcony. For the longest while they stood in comfortable silence, taking in the night sounds and the stars' music.
"Haldir aproached me after the meal," Thranduil spoke up softly, continuing despite the tired sigh his son made, "He worries about you. All he wants is to see you happy but you sulk and mope whenever you are in his presence."
"I try my best not to, ada, but how can I pretend to be happy when my heart is so obviously not."
Now it was Thranduil's turn to sigh tiredly, though he felt it much more than his son.
Hearing the sound, Legolas looked worriedly over at his father. The older Elf looked weary despite his eternally youthful and fair face. But in his grass-green eyes Legolas could see the strain of hardship and he loathed himself for only contributing more upon his father's shoulders; his father, who had done nothing but love and care for him all his life, always putting his son's needs before his.
"I'm sorry, ada. I did not wish to make you upset."
Shaking his head, Thranduil pulled his only child into a deep embrace, kissing the smooth brow gently.
"Your father loves you, Legolas. Nothing you do could ever upset him."
Both blonds turned to the newcomer who silently aproached them, long robes making the only sound as they brushed the plush rug. Silver eyes deep with endless wisdom shone in the candle lights as he stepped onto the terrace.
"My sons on the other hand..."
Thranduil chuckled at his lover's sigh.
"Surely there wasn't too much damage."
Elrond gave him a exasperated look but smiled himself.
"Atleast there were no broken bones, this time. The unfortunate aspect of that is that they will be healed by tomorrow morn and will go on another ridiculous adventure. I had assumed that they would tire of hunting wargs and spiders after so many years."
"They certainly have inherited one of your more obvious traits; persistence."
"You mock me, Golden King?" Elrond raised a brow as he rested an arm around the other's waist.
"That's up to you to decide," was the smirking reply.
Legolas watched the two elders' bantering with a soft smile. He was happy for his father. As strong as their father-son relationship was, Thranduil's love for Elrond was also a key factor that helped heal the heart ache the golden king had suffered at the loss of his beloved wife whose immortal life had been drastically cut short at the jaws of a pack of wargs. His father had remained strong and in Middle-earth for the sake of his then toddling greenleaf but inside he was lonely and mourning.
The time of the Elves had ended yet there were few that still remained. Without their numbers and wariors, their lands had been overrun and claimed by Men and Orcs, forcing them to flee. Rivendell, having been so well known and open to many, had eventualy been claimed by Rohan and Elrond and what remained of his people had sought refuge in Mirkwood, which was the only Elven realm untouched for Men feared it.
Neither elven lords had ever met one another but the attraction had been obvious the moment their eyes locked. They would spend many hours together, talking or riding, but Legolas was never jealous; the sparkle in his father's eyes had shone brighter and brighter as the days went by and his smile had grown wider, even into laugher. No wizard's magic could have ever cured the king like the love offered to him by the peredhil.
"I will go check on the twins," Legolas said, wanting to give his father and lover their privacy. "Goodnight."
Elrond nodded but his father gathered him in another embrace, kissing his temple and whispering softly, "Goodnight, my son. All will be well."
Nodding, he was released and quietly made his way out. For a moment he turned to regard the two. His father had returned to Elrond's strong embrace and both stood there contently staring up at the night sky, the lore lord's long fingers gently running through his father's golden hair as Elrond spoke of the stars.
A small tug on his heart made Legolas wince but he ignored it and started down the hall, noting strangely how cold and lonesome it felt.
tbc...............
**************
Read & Review, please.