Disclaimer: I do not own anything that you recognize from Lord of the Rings. That credit belongs exclusively to J.R.R. Tolkien. The only thing I own are the characters you do not recognize, such as Maranwe, Graelath, and any others that might pop up. This applies to all future chapters as well!


Chapter 3: Revelations

A few hours later...

"He is resting?" Arwen asked. Her husband nodded. She sighed. "This is a great loss of life and the earth already mourns the death of the Elves." Looking outside the palace window, she sighed. "Estel? Why do you think Legolas was the only one to fight? He must have known something, or withstood something, the others did not? Obviously, Maranwe felt a shadow but couldn't fight it."

Aragorn nodded, pondering the Queen's question. "Until he wakes up I don't think we'll find the answer to that question. I do know that Thranduil now realizes he was under a shadow, one he couldn't shake off."

While they talked in low tones, neither of them knew that the Elven prince was listening. He was in too much pain to fully sleep and could hear every word they were saying. So it is true, he thought to himself. That vision I had years ago...about a shadow and destruction. I had forgotten about it, now I wish I hadn't.

Legolas knew this was part of his destiny; that his fate was tied to whatever had caused this shadow. His sister, who he wished more than anything had not been killed, would have told him it was fate that he lived to fight it. She had always known he would be important. She had inherited the gift of foresight from their mother and hers was stronger then his feeble, latent version.

He remembered years ago, something she had told him.

-DREAM-

Playfully, Legolas pushed Maranwe toward the pond in the courtyard. "Come muinthel {sister}, the weather is beautiful for a swim!"

The elf maiden was not thrilled with the idea. "Legolas, it might only take you a little while to get freshened up for company, but I take much longer and Lord Elrond of Rivendell is visiting today!"

Legolas would hear nothing of it. "Come ON!" He half dragged his sister to the pond and would have pushed her in if their father hadn't interrupted them.

"Maranwe is right, Legolas. Today, Lord Elrond brings a guest, someone who is very important, even though he does not know it right now." Thranduil had appeared at the edge of the pool just as Legolas reached to push Maranwe into the water.

"Yes, Ada {Father}." The elf prince replied, slight disappointment in his voice.

Thranduil laughed. "You will have plenty of opportunities to push your sister into the water in the future, ion nin {my son}."

Maranwe shot her father a look like daggers. "I'm sure he will, but I hope he thinks twice before doing it." The King laughed and strode off to make sure that everything was prepared for their guests.

Once Thranduil left, Legolas sat down quietly on the edge of the pool. His eyes had darkened and his gaze was distant. The transformation was so sudden, that Maranwe sat beside her brother, concern in her face.

"Legolas? Does something trouble you?"

When the prince did not answer, she gently shook his shoulder. He gasped at the touch and jerked away. Looking at his sister with wide eyes, he swallowed, only now realizing what had just passed before his eyes was not real, but a vision.

Maranwe didn't miss the look in his eyes. "You have foreseen something?"

Legolas nodded. "I do not know, perhaps it was a foresight. I saw shadow...darkness. And then destruction. The Elves being decimated." He paused, trying to find words to describe what he had seen and felt, but was unable to come up with anything. "I do hope this is not a vision of the future, Maranwe. And not just that...I felt I was somehow connected to this."

Maranwe shuddered involuntarily. The hard path her younger brother would walk had been laid out before her many times in her long life. "It is your path, my brother. You must not fear it for it will happen anyway." Smiling now and ruffling his hair she added. "My name might mean destiny, but you are the one with a destiny to fulfill."

He wanted to ask her what she meant; how death and destruction was his path, the sorrow in her green eyes scared him, but she stood and hurried away before he could speak again.

-END DREAM-

Now Legolas understood what his sister had known all along. She had somehow foreseen this destruction. Whether she realized what form it would come in or not, Maranwe had known that something was going to happen, something terrible, but not when or where exactly. He knew she had known his part in it and wished more then ever she would have told him her visions. Why me? What did I do to deserve this evil fate?

Then, something broke through his thoughts. Someone was calling his name, someone who sounded distant and whose voice was almost indiscernible. : Legolas, you must wake! :

It sounded like Aragorn, but it wasn't. But whoever it was; he sounded panicked. Legolas struggled against his unconsciousness, not sure what was needed but determined to help in any way he could. Finally, he forced his eyes open, but his eyelids felt as heavy as steel.

Aragorn had Anduril in hand and was standing over the prince, while Arwen also held a drawn sword in her hand and was protecting Thranduil. Legolas could hear the sounds of metal clashing and the whistle of arrows. They were under attack! His bleary gaze focused on Arwen, who was fighting with a great deal of skill. Her sword twirled through the air at her actions, weaving a net of death around any orcs that tried to get past her to reach Thranduil.

Forcing himself into full consciousness, the elf prince found that Aragorn had laid his bow and knives on the small table beside him. Seeing two orcs charging toward them, Legolas took hold of one of his knives and flung it at the closest orc. The creature halted suddenly, clutching its throat and dropping to the ground.

Aragorn spun on his heel and looked at his friend in awe. "You are awake! We must get out of here!"

Unfortunately, the prince was really in no condition to travel, let alone fight his way out of the building. He glanced at his father; the elder elf was pale and unable to move much in any way. Legolas swore under his breath in Sindarin, drawing a small smile from Aragorn who reached back a hand to help Legolas up.

If moving hurt, then standing hurt much more. He wavered slightly, gripping the bed behind him for support. He knew if he did not gain strength quickly they would all die here. He muttered something in Elvish, surprising Arwen and Thranduil.

"You...?!" She said in awe and would have continued if Legolas hadn't stopped her with the look in his eyes, a look that would allow no arguments.

He nodded lightly, silencing her as he continued the chant. Before her very eyes, he glowed, an ethereal light emanating from his being. Aragorn's attention was on the orcs, and the former ranger did not notice his friend glowing like a star. Arwen swallowed. Legolas could wield Elven magic, and she had never known it.

Neither, it appeared, had Thranduil, whose eyes were bright with awe at the display he had just witnessed. So that was why Legolas was not affected by the shadow! he thought with awe and surprise. His ability to wield this power had given him a stronger degree of protection than most elves had. He looked at his son with renewed hope, knowing that Legolas would be all right.

Soon, Legolas moved away from the bed, standing on his own and not showing pain at all. He notched an arrow into his bow and took down an orc Aragorn had been fighting. His friend looked at him, surprise in his face.

"You can't be standing!"

Legolas smiled lightly, but deflected the questions that he knew would be coming. "Your healing worked well and there are things about me that you do not know." He notched another arrow and let it fly with astonishing speed. It zipped past Aragorn's head and embedded itself in an orc's forehead.

Arwen tugged on Legolas' sleeve. "Come, we must not linger. More will come."

He nodded and with Arwen supporting Thranduil, the four left the room, Aragorn calling to the men from Gondor who were fighting outside. "Retreat! Fall back and we will make for the woods!"

They would have to find horses in order to get away from the orcs. Aragorn noted grimly that their own steeds had been slain by the orcs. Legolas took the lead, running well for someone who was a breath away from death's door only hours before. Aragorn made a mental note to ask him what he'd done later.

"There, the stables. They are my father's private horses." Legolas called, pointing towards a building across the courtyard.

Thranduil smiled, Legolas had always liked riding his steeds. His smile turned quickly to a grimace when he felt blackness ebbing at his vision.

The building did not look like a stable on the outside and it was a good thing it didn't, because otherwise the orcs would have slaughtered the horses inside. Legolas greeted his old friend Arod, easing the horse's fear with soothing elvish words.

There were just enough horses for all the men, and Arwen would ride behind Aragorn on the strongest steed in the stable, Haluneth. Thranduil would ride with Domir of Gondor for Legolas was still too weak to hold him up. The king of Gondor took the lead now, the posse bursting from the stables, trampling the orcs who had followed them.

Soon they were leaving Eryn Lasgalen behind, riding at full gallop for the darkening woods. Legolas couldn't believe the world outside was so dark. He knew that it had something to do with the death of the elves, but he did not know what. It saddened him.

Thranduil, struggling to remain conscious, felt intense pain not just physically, but mentally as well, seeing all his people dead. He let another tear fall for them, and then looked forward, at his son's back. At least he is alive.

"I think we have outrun them," Aragorn said, turning to look at Legolas. The elf was pale, far more then usual for his race, and his breathing was slightly labored, but he didn't look too worse for the ride.

He cast his eyes toward Thranduil as well, glad that the king was holding his own.

Of course, Aragorn knew that his Elven friends were very good at hiding their injuries too. They rode a little further until one of the Gondor soldiers, Haldirim, called out in surprise. "My Lord! The prince has lost consciousness!"

Aragorn reined in his horse, turning the creature around just in time to see the man catch Legolas as the elf slipped from the horse. He cursed under his breath. Legolas would never let on he was weakening and it was impossible to tell for oneself with only a casual glance.

"Lay him there," the king said as he too slid from the horse, leaving Arwen to take care of the animal. Rushing over to Legolas, he hurriedly undid the prince's shirt buttons and frowned at the sight of blood quickly soaking through the bandages. "You stubborn elf," he muttered as he undid the ruined bandages and reached for more in his satchel.

Legolas had either heard him, or was jostled awake by the activity around him, for his eyes opened and he jerked at Aragorn's touch. "What?" he asked, with his voice full of confusion.

His friend smiled grimly. "Your wounds have begun bleeding again, Legolas. You should have told me you needed to stop; this will set you back a bit in your healing."

The elf prince frowned now. "I am sorry, Estel but I am accustomed to hiding things of this nature." He looked into the man's eyes, holding his gaze. "You have known me long enough have you not?"

Aragorn's eyes softened. "Yes, I have, Legolas, which is why I will again implore you to trust me and do as I ask. Tell me next time you feel this coming, or Haldirim may not be there to catch you."

He heard his name again, this time in regards to Thranduil, who had lapsed into unconsciousness. He frowned. There was nothing he could do for the elf lord; he would have to be strong.

Legolas looked worried. "Will he make it?" He was staring at his father, fear in his eyes. Legolas didn't know if he could bear the loss of any more of his family. His mother had passed over into Valinor long ago, and his beloved sister had just been killed, and now his father was hovering near death. Aragorn's hand fell to his shoulder.

"Yes, but he will need to travel to Valinor to be healed. His wound is beyond human healing, he needs to be with his people."

The elf prince's eyes softened. "Then I may truly be the last Silvan left on Middle-Earth." Aragorn did not reply.
In the Misty Mountains...

"Ah, now that the orcs and Uruks have decimated the elves, it is time to begin planning the fall of Men," Graelath laughed, giddy as a child at his plan's success. "They never knew what hit them!"

He was unaware that the king and prince of Eryn Lasgalen were riding toward Gondor, one in possession of the Elven magic he so feared. "I will begin my destruction of men with Rohan. King Eomer and his people will easily submit to my spell, as did Théoden to Saruman!"

He poured over his maps of Middle-Earth, found the direction he needed and hurried out to the top of his tower, much as Saruman used to do. Raising his arms and facing the direction of Edoras, the heart of Rohan, Graelath began to chant in a language no one had heard in ages.

It sounded coarse, as the Black Speech of Mordor had sounded, but it was not the same. It was a language that had rarely been spoken in Middle-Earth before. "Arth gollem i illiarn, morgurl maach nerleth {Let shadow befall them, hiding my armies}!" he cried, continuing for many long minutes until he was sure his spell had begun to take effect.

"It is only a matter of time before they will be under my net, caught in a shadow that will hide the threat of my armies! Just... like... the... elves!"

He cackled as he returned to his tower, making note to repeat the spell every day at the same hour.
Meanwhile...

The night drew near and the group had stopped to set up camp. The men were tired and bloody from the battle and they were all hungry. Legolas alone seemed to be content to just sit and stare at the stars in the sky.

While Middle-Earth was darkening and dying with the loss of the elves, the stars did not waiver for an instant. Legolas smiled to himself, feeling at ease when he gazed at the stars. Elves loved the night sky with its peace and tranquility.

He was so immersed in studying the heavens that he did not hear nor feel Aragorn approaching. "Mellon nin?" The king said, stooping down and putting a hand on the elf's shoulder. "You should try to eat something."

Legolas looked down from the sky and into Aragorn's eyes, seeing worry in the silver orbs. "Thank you, Estel." He glanced to his father for moment, seeing the elder elf awake. Arwen was helping him to drink something. He was worried about his father, but knew that the king was in good hands.

He took the proffered bowl of stew and quietly spooned it into his mouth. It was hot and seasoned with rich spices. Inwardly, Legolas knew that Arwen had prepared it for it could only taste this good if made by a woman.

Aragorn sat beside his friend, his eyes also seeking out the heavens. "You know? Even as the world grows dark, it lightens my heart to see the stars. Earendil shines bright upon us tonight."

Legolas nodded, shifting when his wounds became uncomfortable. "You are right. But as long as I live I will implore this world to continue living. Wherever I go, I will speak to the land and ask it to flourish."

Aragorn's eyes shone. His friend really was special. Perhaps now was the time to ask Legolas about himself. "Please, you said there is much about you we do not know. Enlighten me, my Elven friend."

For a moment, it looked as though the prince would not speak.

"Yes, enlighten me too, ion nin {my son}," his father said, startling Legolas and Aragorn, who spun to see the elf looking at them.

Legolas sighed and put down the bowl and spoon. Glancing at Aragorn, he cast his eyes up to the sky and spoke. "I have always possessed the power to do magic, I learnt of it as a small child."

-FLASHBACK-

"Legolas! Come back here! The forest is no place for a young elf to be alone!" His father called to the young prince, hoping the anger in his voice would scare Legolas into returning. They had just had an argument; the prince did not understand why he could not go out with the other boys on the hunt.

His father had tried to impress upon him his importance, being the prince and heir to the throne of Mirkwood and that he was still too young. But the boy would have nothing of it. I am not going back, the young elf chanted to himself as he hurried through the ever-darkening woods.

Soon he was far from the city, nearing the border of Mirkwood. He would need to get past the border guards if he wanted to truly get away, but being the son of the King he knew when the changing of guard took place and knew he could slip through at that time.

Why do I have to stay behind when all the others can go and have a good time? He asked himself in frustration. His long blonde hair hung over his shoulders; it still did not hold any warrior braids and that embarrassed him.

He saw his opportunity to flee and hurried past the two guards as they traded news. Smiling to himself, he thought, If I can get past the border guards of Mirkwood, I can survive a hunt.

He continued through the dark forest, unaware of all the dangers it possessed. He had never traveled this far from home before and he began to wonder if this was the wisest of his rash decisions.

Nonetheless, the boy trekked on. Then, he came to a grinding halt. His keen eyes could make out two glowing yellow eyes in the bushes about a thousand feet ahead of him. Though the creature was silent, the boy knew it was watching him.

He reached for his bow and drew in a sharp breath. He did not have his bow; he had left it in the throne room when he had argued with his father. Rarely was he without it, and now when he needed it most he did not have it.

Great, Legolas. What a prince you are...you forget your bow and now you're about to be attacked in the forest, all alone! For a moment he almost gave into the thought that his father might be right, hunts were too dangerous for him.

But the thought left his head quickly as the yellow eyes erupted from the bushes and rapidly drew near. Fear boiled in the young prince and he put up his hands in defense, waiting for the bite of teeth. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes and was shocked to see the creature had stopped a few feet from him, its eyes watching him warily. It was one of the giant spiders that had slowly begun to take over the southern reaches of the forest.

Why does it not attack? he wondered. Suddenly the creature lunged, and at the same moment, a gentle voice sounded in his mind. Legolas didn't know who was whispering to him, but he knew instinctively to echo the words and so he did, speaking in Elvish, following the voice in his head. He didn't recognize the words nor did he yet know the significance of them.

As he spoke, the ground began to tremble and crack. Legolas could not understand what was happening, but he continued to speak words he had never heard before. Suddenly, a great rift appeared directly beneath the creature and it fell into the ground. As soon as it had disappeared from sight, Legolas stopped speaking and the ground snapped closed.

Legolas was panting now, unable to grasp what he had just done. He looked at his hands, still stretched before him, and back up at where the creature had been standing moments before. Somehow, he had done that, he had conjured magic and killed the beast. But how, he did not know.

The voice sounded in his head again. : Go home, young Prince. : Hurrying back the way he had come, Legolas ran back home, determined to keep his secret.

-END FLASHBACK-

"I kept the secret my whole life. For almost two thousand years, no one knew I possessed Elven magic, not even my father." The prince stopped for a moment, locking eyes with his father. "I do not believe even Lord Elrond knew."

While the others regained their composure after the shocking story, Legolas inwardly wondered if he should mention the voice that had told him what to say, for he had glossed over that part of his story. This last time, when he had healed himself, he had known what to say without aid, but when he had been younger, he had heard the voice telling him the proper words.

To this day, he knew not who had spoken, nor the origin of the words he spoke. He knew they were Elvish, but they were not Sindarin, that was certain. He suspected that they might be Quenya, but there were few of the Sindarin elves that still spoke the High Tongue, so he had no one to ask.

Aragorn shook his head in awe, drawing Legolas' attention to him. "Well a great gift this is you bear, mellon nin. Why have you not used it?"

Legolas took a deep breath. "Elven magic is not something to use lightly. I probably could wield it whenever I wanted, but I wouldn't dream of using the power unless it was a last resort. I did not use it during our Quest to destroy the Ring, not because I could not, but because I was not supposed to. I often wonder if I could have saved Boromir."

Aragorn could understand the turmoil he could see in his friend's eyes. "Do not think like that. You are right, my question was foolish. You can not use this gift idly, my friend. You are not responsible for anyone's death."

A small spread across Legolas' face. "I feared for a moment you would not understand, but I see you do. I am glad we are friends, Estel, for I have held this secret long enough." He paused before continuing, wanting to get everything out in the open after years of holding it in. "When we met with Lady Galadriel, she spoke in my mind." He shivered a little at the thought. "She told me she knew of my gift, and she told me I must not use it during the Quest because it had to be finished only by the strength of the people, and not by magic."

Laying a hand on Legolas' shoulder, the king of Gondor nodded and smiled. "It makes sense. If you were to have used magic, the people of Middle-Earth might not have had reason to join together in peace and alliance. The world would be a different place today." He smiled, glad that Legolas had finally confided in him. "Remember you can share anything with me, mellon nin... especially your injuries."

Legolas shot a fierce look at his friend, but it quickly dissolved into a smile. "Perhaps."

Thranduil had been listening the whole time, still surprised that his son possessed this great power. Inside, he had always known Legolas was important, maybe that was why he coddled him, to no avail. He made a mental note to explain his ways to his son before leaving for Valinor.