Reviewer Responses to Chapter 4...

Kelsey: Okay...my villain will be revealed all in good time! Be patient and you shall have all the villain information you could EVER want! :-) I can't give it all up right away...I like suspense, it's my best friend! My beta and I recall reading somewhere that Legolas referred to himself as "Silvan", though I do not doubt he was Sindarin if you say so. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt; I have not read The Unfinished Tales. (This is my first fic...I barely finished the Lord of the Rings and haven't read The Silmarillion.) AND as for the boy thing...OOPS?? :-) I write VERY fast...which is how you get posts VERY fast! I'll try not to do it again!

Silvertoekee: Again, thanks for your review...yes they DO seem to have a lot of trouble with Orcs...and it will undoubtedly continue!!

Note: There are a great many references in this chapter to The Silmarillion, specifically the chapter about Beren and Luthien. It is not necessary to have read this chapter, but for those who have, hopefully you will not be too confused. For those who have not read this particular chapter of the book, my beta and I have tried to explain who all the characters mentioned are, but in case you still have trouble following, just go with the flow, for The Silmarillion characters are not the important part of this chapter.


Chapter 5: Explosions and Explanations

Later that night...

Aragorn and Arwen were sitting beside the fire, taking in low tones with each other while Legolas slept off to the side. The men and their King and Queen had erected a bier to send their comrades off.

Now they waited for Legolas to wake before the quick send off. "He should not have used his magic," Aragorn was saying, shaking his head sadly. "He has only managed to slow his Elven healing."

His wife begged to differ. "Estel, he felt it was right. You could see it in his eyes. He had to do this; he knew that neither you nor he could afford to die. He was right and this was the only way. We were greatly outnumbered and tiring."

Leave it to Arwen to voice reason. Aragorn chuckled. "I guess you are right, as usual my love. You have not lost your wisdom."

The two turned at the sound of a light groan to find Legolas sitting up and shaking his head. "I haven't used my magic in so long, I forgot how draining it is," he muttered. Bringing himself to his knees, he remembered his new wounds. His eyes snapped to his upper arm and he let out a breath. The wound was neatly dressed.

"You didn't really think I would let your wounds bleed unattended while I sat here and waited for you to grace us with your presence," Aragorn chided, barely able to restrain a smile.

"I suppose not," Legolas answered standing and stretching tentatively. "But you were injured as well and I will bet my life you have not allowed anyone to touch you."

Arwen gasped. "Estel!? You are injured?"

How has no one noticed? Legolas thought in surprise. Then it hit him, Aragorn had donned a dark-colored cloak, hiding the bloody tunic he wore. "Very intuitive, my friend, but you have not hidden the wound from me; I heard your cry in battle."

Arwen had eyes like daggers. "Why didn't you tell me? How could you? You are just as bad as he is," she thrust her finger in Legolas' direction to make her point. Her outburst took Aragorn by surprise and his eyes darkened.

"What's gotten into you, Arwen? You never bark at me like that, it's just a scratch!" He countered, letting his own nerves get the better of him.

Her voice had gone icy cold. "A scratch!? I don't think so, Estel. Scratches with you are mortal wounds with any normal man! Why must you always hide these things?" By now the whole camp was nervously eying the King and Queen. Legolas was in such shock at the argument that he was unable to speak.

"Oh...let's not talk about me for a minute! You think I endanger myself needlessly? I am a warrior, Arwen! Why did you leave the safety of your guards during the battle? And just how did you get past three-quarters of the men!?" Estel's voice was raised now and Legolas stared at him with his mouth agape, never having heard the king get so angry with Arwen before.

"How dare you!" Arwen fumed, still speaking in a low tone but one edged with ice. "I saved your life! And you thank me for it by chiding me from leaving the safety of the guards? I was trained by my brothers, just as you were! I can take care of myself, Estel!" That said, the Queen stormed off to where she had left her blanket, momentarily checking on a sleeping Thranduil before staring off into the darkness.

Aragorn moved to go to her, but Legolas, shaken from his surprise, held him back. "Let her be, Estel. And let me attend to your wound."

The former ranger looked about to argue, but remembered he had chided Legolas earlier not to hide his injuries; it would be unfair for him to do just that now. "All right, my supplies are over there. I wonder what has gotten into her?!" He was still angry, but piping down a little.

To his surprise, Legolas did not fetch his supplies, merely uncovered the wound and sighed. "I need no supplies, mellon nin." But Aragorn spun toward him and shook his head.

"Just this one time, please use them. You are still too weak from your magic and healing yourself, I do not wish you to drain anymore of your strength."

Legolas looked to the ground and gave in. "All right, but only this once. I hate to cause you pain, which I will do by using your herbs." He stood again and rummaged through the medicinal herbs, looking for the ones he would need.

He could feel Arwen's gaze on him as he pulled off Aragorn's shirt. The wound was scabbed and bright red from rubbing on the fabric of the king's shirt. Legolas frowned. "You did not even clean it. It has scabbed over already and I will need to remove the clot to clean beneath them."

Estel sighed. "Yes, I know. I am a stubborn man, much like my best friend..." His voice trailed off, leaving Legolas to fill in the rest. Smiling, the elf began mixing the herbs.

Rubbing the wound with a clean cloth, he was able to loosen the scabbed blood, though it pained him to hear Aragorn wince and see his body stiffen in pain. "Easy, Estel. The scabs are gone, I only need to clean a bit more before I put the salve on it and bandage it."

The man relaxed only a little, pain still scorching his back as his friend gently spread the herbal salve on his wound. He ground his teeth to hold back any cries, not wanting to worry his men further for they were looking on as the elf prince worked.

"Legolas?" the man said, getting his friend's attention. "Do you speak Quenya?"

Frowning as he worked, Legolas shook his head and answered. "No, it is never spoken in my father's court. It is a rather dead language, at least as far as my people are concerned Aragorn. Only the Noldor still use it to some extent, as far as I know, but you would know better than I."

The king was surprised. "Well, you were chanting in Quenya, mellon nin. Somehow, you do know it."

The Elf balked. "I was speaking Quenya? I suspected as much, but did not realize it. All these years I wondered what I was speaking, I knew it was not Sindarin. I wonder how I can chant in a language I do not understand." He still was not willing to mention the voice he had heard; he didn't want his friends to think he was crazy.

"I know not," Aragorn answered, offering no more on the subject as he tried to hold back any signs of pain.

"There, now slowly lift your arms so I might bandage this," Legolas said, holding the roll of cloth out. Aragorn did as he was told, scrunching his nose at the sensation of tender skin being pulled taunt. Legolas was gentle though, wrapping the bandage skillfully. "You are done, next time do not wait for help, as you so strongly pointed out to me earlier."

Estel repositioned his shirt and eyed the elf. "Yes, so I see my good council has been remembered."

Legolas nodded slightly, looking over at Arwen and his father. He frowned, moving over to where the elf lord lay, his breathing shallow and his face paler then normal. Reaching a hand out, Legolas recoiled when he felt the temperature of his father.

"He is feverish," the prince said. Looking to Arwen, he asked, "How long has he been this bad?"

She grimaced. "Too long, he is losing his battle. He needs to get to Valinor and soon."

Legolas shook his head. "We are still a long journey from the harbor. I must help him, at least a little." Aragorn had come over and caught the last sentence.

"Mellon nin, you are still too weak. He will last a little longer without your help. Eat something, and then aid him." The king held out a bowl of food, beckoning the prince to take it. He noticed that Arwen's demeanor had completed reversed and she was back to her normal self. For the moment. I really must find out what is up with her.

Acquiescing, Legolas took the proffered bowl and smiled lightly. "My father is strong; I can not fathom how he did not know a threat approached Eryn Lasgalen."

He saw his friend's eyes widen. Aragorn had forgotten that the prince was unconscious when Thranduil explained what he thought had happened. The king wasted no time filling in Legolas on what the elf lord had said.

"So that is why I felt strangely unwilling to press my father, the spell was beginning to take a hold on me as well." Legolas looked into the distance, his Elven eyes focusing on nothing in particular. "A spell of this power must have been cast by someone very strong."

Aragorn nodded. "I wish Gandalf were here, he might know of someone strong enough to do this."

He was interrupted by Arwen, who spoke slowly. "Perhaps someone here knows who this is."

Thranduil was awake and his eyes were shining with some sort of recognition. "Mentioning Gandalf jogged my memory," the king said quietly, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "You remember the tale of the dark wizard, Graelath?" His question was directed at Legolas.

The prince balked. "Yes of course, it was legend. A myth told through many a generation."

Thranduil took a deep breath, as deep as he could manage. "The tale was not a myth, though it was often told to be one. Graelath did exist; no one knows what became of him, only that no one saw him die."

Aragorn knew that Thranduil was too weak to tell this tale, so he turned to Legolas, "Please, enlighten me again, mellon nin. Who is this Graelath?"

Leaning back, making sure he did not disturb any wounds, Legolas nodded. "Well, I won't say I know much about him, just the basic facts. Graelath was the Black Wizard of a Great Council, not the same Council as the Istari, an older one from the First Age. He fell from grace and into madness after his family and the remains of his race were destroyed in a wolf attack."

"His race?" Aragorn prompted.

"Yes," Legolas answered. "The Ethaim were an immortal race, similar to Elves but resembling humans. They had their own language, I hear, that allowed them to use magic. Though not all of them were of Graelath's caliber."

Arwen interjected a bit as well. "If I remember correctly what Ada mentioned of the Ethaim, they never were very large a race in Middle-Earth, which is why one attack wiped them all out."

Legolas nodded. "Yes. Anyway, the Great Council, under the leadership of Gorgof the White at the time, decided it was necessary to remove Graelath's staff. The staff allowed him to perform far more magic then just his native tongue did. It gave him great power and in the hands of a madman blinded by grief, that was a dangerous combination."

Sighing, Legolas paused in his story-telling, making sure his father was still with them, looking for a nod of approval, which he got. "The story goes on that when the Wizards of the Council arrived at the dwelling of the Black Wizard to remove his staff, he was no where to be found. None of the greatest of Seers in all of Middle-Earth was able to find him."

Aragorn frowned. "So this man, this immortal, was never found?"

Legolas nodded. "Yes, he was never found. The Elves have long told stories of his power, not his power for evil, for that was never really seen. But of his power for good, which was great until his fall."

Thranduil interjected his opinion here. "Though the stories are of his good, imagining that power in the hands of a Dark Lord is very disturbing."

Aragorn asked Legolas to tell one of the stories of the man's good, to demonstrate just what they might be up against, should Graelath indeed prove to be the one who had done this. Legolas nodded in agreement, racking his brain for the best story to tell.

Then he had it. "The wolves of Isengard were cruel and vicious, as I'm certain you will remember. But they were nothing compared to a great wolf of the First Age. Carcharoth, bred to kill Huan, the great hound of Valinor, and the loyal guardian of Beren and Luthien."

FLASHBACK

Lady Galadriel knew there were perils here, things that could maim or kill her, yet she still walked unarmed and unattended through the woods that surrounded Doriath, where she dwelled with her husband, Celeborn, for they were her home. She was deep in the territory of the Elves, where she was safest.

It did not occur to her that she might be attacked without warning, for elves were of sound hearing and sight. It was not an easy task to surprise an elf and Galadriel was a very strong elf in her own right, which is why she was unprepared for Carcharoth. The great wolf, bred for one purpose and driven mad by the power of the Silmaril that he had taken from Beren son of Barahir, normally would not bother with an elf, but this one was alone, vulnerable. Perhaps just this once he would deter from his mission and toy with someone.

Leaping from the shadows of nearby bushes, Carcharoth landed in front of Galadriel, howling loudly as he did so. Galadriel fell back, surprised and frightened at the large wolf before her. She stood up to run but stopped, as she looked around, her blue eyes widening.

The wolf's call had brought forth a gang of his followers, smaller in stature, but mean nonetheless. They eyed the elf maiden with hunger and wariness. These wolves were not stupid; they knew elves were formidable foes.

But Galadriel was unarmed. Carcharoth moved forward, swatting at the lady with his great claws. A red line appeared on her otherwise unmarred skin, oozing blood. She reached up in shock, never having suffered an injury before.

Carcharoth rather liked this reaction and moving forward, he knocked her to the ground and stood over her. Suddenly, there was a voice from the outside of the circle of wolves. "Let her be, beast, for she is not a toy for you to mishandle."

Galadriel looked up from where she had fallen. Her eyes came to rest on a man, hooded and cloaked, with a black staff in his hand. The man must have been a wizard; that much she could tell, but she could see no other features. However, she had no idea what he was doing in Doriath, which was protected by the spells of the Maia Melian, wife of King Thingol.

The wolf howled mockingly at the wizard and his gang began to close in on the wizard, blocking his path to Galadriel. Carcharoth watched with satisfaction in his eyes. His wolves would take care of this man.

But he was wrong. The wizard raised his staff and began to speak. Galadriel had expected a tongue of men, maybe even elvish, but she did not recognize what he was saying. She was well versed in languages and was surprised to not know that which the man spoke.

Her eyes widened when the wolves that had advanced on the wizard were suddenly immobile. Their eyes were wide with fright and they whimpered piteously, whining that they could not move.

Galadriel watched in growing fascination as the wizard advanced on the frozen wolves. Suddenly, he lifted his hands and the animals went flying in every direction, many of them hitting the ground and breaking their necks.

Seeing the others thrown, many of them destroyed, enraged Carcharoth. He was about to leap forward and kill his captive when the wizard focused on him, immobilizing him. Galadriel took this opportunity to run to the wizard, who shoed her in the direction he had come.

"It is not my destiny to slay you, Carcharoth." The wizard whispered, releasing the monster from his spell. "It is theirs." He pointed toward the West and they both perceived Beren and Huan, the great hound of Valinor and loyal guardian of Beren and Luthien, traveling along with King Thingol and two others.

Carcharoth, seeing his real quarry, ran off toward them, leaving Graelath, the Black Wizard, to bring Galadriel back to her people.

END FLASHBACK

"The elves were forever grateful, as you could well guess. Beren and Huan were slain during the engagement with Carcharoth, but the great wolf was also killed, defeated by both of their great sacrifices. Their tale is well known, while the tale of the rescue of Galadriel is only known to elves."

Legolas smiled at his father's expression. The king was enjoying the story. At least it was keeping him conscious.

Aragorn breathed deeply. "This is disturbing to say the least," he said. "If this wizard possesses such a power, he will not be easy to defeat. My heart is heavy at this news."

Legolas put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We will figure something out. Remember, that we have a magic of our own as well. Elven magic is powerful, when wielded right; it may be enough for our purpose."

Thranduil suddenly looked at Aragorn. "Aragorn how is it that you and Lady Arwen were even in Eryn Lasgalen at the time of the attack?"

Legolas looked startled as well, the thought not having occurred to him. "Do tell, mellon nin. I too would like to know the reason behind your timely arrival."

Aragorn sighed. "Well, about a week and a half ago, Arwen received a letter from Maranwe, asking us to come and lend aid, for she had sensed the shadow that you described hir nin {my lord}."

Thranduil and Legolas looked surprised at this. Arwen continued softly. "She spoke of having had two visions of the destruction of Eryn Lasgalen, but she didn't dare mention them to either of you, because there were no overt signs that anything was wrong. So, in order to come and examine the situation for ourselves, we decided to disguise our intentions with a state visit, figuring that if the threat was real, and dire enough, we could send for more aid."

Thranduil simply nodded, pondering these events; while Legolas looked...well, almost angry.

Aragorn laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Legolas?"

"Why didn't she tell me?" Legolas asked. "We always could tell each other anything, and I even told her my fears that the city would be attacked, but all she said was that I worry too much!" Legolas slammed his fist on the ground in frustration. "She knew all along, and yet she didn't tell me!"

The elf prince hung his head, and stifled a sob, mourning for his beloved sister. "Why Maranwe, muinthel nin {my sister}? Why didn't you tell me?"

Arwen immediately stood and came over to where the prince sat. Kneeling down, she pulled Legolas into her arms in a strangely maternal gesture, laying his head on her shoulder, and slowly rubbing circles on his back as he cried for the sister who had protected him and cared for him all their lives, only to be snatched away from him because he failed to reach her in time.

Aragorn just sat there, unable to think of anything to say, staring at his best friend in shock. Never before had he seen Legolas break down like this. The elf had always been the steady, unchanging rock for Aragorn to rest on when things were tough, and now, when his friend needed him, Aragorn didn't know what to do.

Arwen murmured soothingly to her friend. "Sîdh, Legolas, sîdh {Peace, Legolas, peace}. Maranwe did everything that she could, and she managed to warn us in time for us to arrive and save you and your father. The shadow likely overtook her as well. Remember that she was actually living in Eryn Lasgalen, and was likely being slowly overcome by it from the beginning, but somehow fought it to a point, until she couldn't fight any longer." Arwen said, choking back tears of her own. Now was not the time, Legolas needed her. There would be a time for her to grieve for her friend later, when she was safe in Aragorn's arms, but now she had to devote her attention to Legolas.

Aragorn finally found his voice as he leaned forward carefully and enfolded Legolas and Arwen into his grasp. "Legolas, you told me once that your sister would die to protect you, remember?" When Legolas nodded, Aragorn continued. "She fulfilled her promise, Legolas. She fought like a hero for you, braver than any warrior that I've known, because she was fighting something that wasn't tangible, couldn't be seen, or slain with a physical weapon. Love and loyalty were the only weapons she had, and she fought for you, and for your father, and for all your people, and she won, Legolas. She got all of you the aid that you desperately needed, and she saved your life and your father's life by her actions."

Legolas sobbed again, but he was at least listening. His sobs slowly began to ease, until he was simply kneeling on the ground, his body trembling as it was held in Aragorn and Arwen's firm grip. Finally, he pushed back against them slightly, and they released him. He looked at each of them, his eyes red from crying, and managed a shaky smiled. "Hannon le, mellyn nin {Thank you, my friends}. You are both right, and I can't forget that she did everything in her power, even though I miss her dearly."

Aragorn and Arwen both looked away, giving Legolas time to compose himself. Aragorn suddenly cocked his head to the side, realizing that Thranduil had not spoken for several minutes.

Suddenly Legolas jumped to his feet, sensing something greatly wrong. Hurrying to his father's side, the prince found that the king had lapsed back into unconsciousness. He quickly felt for a pulse. Finding none, he looked to Aragorn and Arwen.

"I must." Then he put his hands on his father's chest and spoke quickly, letting his mind say what it knew needed to be said. He was not aware of the words, did not know what he was saying. His magic worked without his thoughts, it worked from his heart, his will.

There were several long moments of utter silence, except for Legolas' continuing chant, as Aragorn and Arwen looked on. Thranduil lay deathly still, and for a moment, they feared that his spirit had already fled to the Halls of Mandos.

Finally, there was a faint movement as Thranduil again drew breath. It was faint at first, and Legolas continued to work his magic, a soft green light flowing out of his hands and surrounding and being absorbed by Thranduil.

Soon, Thranduil's chest began to rise and fall with each ragged breath he took. Sweat beaded on Legolas face and he grew pale, but pressed on, determined to bring his father back to a point where he would make it to the harbor without further healing.

Aragorn wanted to stop his friend, but Arwen held him back. "He can handle it a little longer. Trust me, Estel, I know more of Elven healing then you do."

The king acquiesced to his wife, knowing she was right. To his relief, Legolas pulled back, studying his father intently. "He is sleeping now, no longer breathless." Trying to stand proved impossible. Legolas turned imploring eyes on Aragorn. "If you could, I need a bit of help to get to my bed."

Aragorn nodded, pulling the prince to his feet and guiding him to the place he had bedded down. "Rest, mellon nin. We ride tomorrow for the shore to send your father off to Valinor."