Wow, I had the first reviewer that wanted me to off our dear Legolas! At the moment I can't promise either way, I will decide if he will lives when I come to that point!
This chapter may be a bit confusing at points so here a short explanation: in the last chapter I hinted that Legolas is slowly (ok not so slowly) loosing himself, this continues during this chapter.
Cale au Aratar 16
Legolas mind barely registered Lord Elronds words or his leaving, his thoughts were far away in a place were he did not know the meaning of pain.
He was walking in a garden, surrounded by thousands of flowers, it was his favourite garden in all of Lothlorien and it had been many years since he had last had the possibility to venture there. Yet his peace was shattered as he felt that he was not alone in his sanctuary. It had taken him only moments to find the one whose presence had disturbed his peace. Not far from him yet concealed by one of the smaller Mallorn sat a maiden, no not a maiden she was still a child.
Silver hair swayed around her head and upper body and even though he could not see her face he was drawn to her. Hesitant to break her peace he walked slowly over to her, not sure what he expected to find, only knowing that he had to see her face and hear her voice. Yet before he had been able to reach her she had turned around and he felt unable to move. As she spoke his mind was not able to process the words but marvelled instead her beauty and the softness of her voice.
He felt her presence even then – and slowly he remembered that he was not in that garden, that he was not even in Lothlorien but in his chambers in Minas Tirith. She was in his room, he could feel her presence, her touch and he allowed himself to fall back into his memories.
Never before had he been in a city made out of stone, a city inhabited by both edain and Eldar, though the Eldar were clearly the majority. He and his guards – consisting out of both Avari and Sindar – were welcomed at the gates of the city by a regal looking silver-haired elf who had an expression that told them clearly that he had better things to do than welcoming some (spoilt) prince.
Yet it had taken merely moments after he had welcomed the group that he seemed to change his mind about the young prince. Maybe it was Legolas fascination with the cloak-clasps the Noldo wore or something else but by the time they reached the Noldos home they had become friends. Only a few days after their arrival Celebrimbor had called him into his workroom where he measured him for a crown and when Legolas had asked why he needed a new crown the older elf had looked at him as if he were dumb before explaining slowly that the Cale au Aratar needed a fitting crown and not something any prince would wear. That had also been the first time the smith dared to shorten his name to its last syllable, a sacrilege no elf dared to commit.
No-one who had met Celebrimbor would deny that he was the most untypical elf that ever walked Arda: not only was he fascinated by jewels like some other elves – namely the Sindar – but he delighted in making them. It had been for Celebrimbor that for a few centuries the relationship between dwarfs and elfs had been civil, even friendly. During that first days they had talked for endless hours while Celebrimbor was working first on the crown and then later on a pair of fighting knives for he knew of the preference of the Avari for knifes.
It had been during one of those conversations that Celebrimbor called him his son. When Legolas had asked him what he meant he had laughed mournfully and had answered him that he loved the wife of someone else and the son of even another, that he was doomed to recognise and create beauty and wisdom but that he would never possess either of it. Legolas had not known what he should say to the distraught older elf, he had overheard his parents talking before that journey how the friendship of Celeborn and Celebrimbor had broken because they both loved Galadriel and that even because he had chosen Celeborn Celebrimbor would not give up on her.
After that confession he hadn't seen the smith for several days as he had closed himself off in his smithy allowing no-one to enter. When he had come out he carried the most beautiful weapon the young prince had ever seen: a double-blade, the blades forged out of Mithril, etched into the metal were leaves and flames, circling, touching each other. Like the handle of the two fighting knives the handle of the double-blade was made out of polished ivory, embedded with gold and blue and green jewels that were polished in such a way that they didn't stand out from the rest of the handle when touched. Together with the gold they formed the same ornament as the etchings in the blades only this time the ornaments were coloured: green leaves and blue flames: Legolas and Luin Nor, his two destinies, his two identities.
Celebrimbor had handed him the weapon with the words: "I may never possess either of you but I can spoil and love you as if I did!". Not long after that afternoon the connection between them had opened after Legolas had told him that he may not be his father by blood but he would have had nothing against it if he had been. From that moment on they had become as close as father and son could ever be, they were not of the same blood and Celebrimbor did not replace Thranduil as Legolas actual father but whenever Legolas visited Celebrimbor from then on did the older elf assume the role of his father. No-one besides them was aware of the depth of their relationship, no-one knew that the moment Celebrimbor died he had lost a man he loved just as much and in the same way as his own father.
No-one besides him was aware of the origin of Celebrimbors extraordinary gift as a smith, no-one besides himself had known that like Legolas he had given an oath to Aule, father of the dwarfs. He had told Legolas when the younger had mentioned his own oath – but different from the younger ones oath his could not be fulfilled.
In exchange for his unsurpassed skill as a smith he had given up his ability to fit in with his own race: in all but soul and body he had become like one of Aules children, yet his heart forever yearned to be like one of his own race. Forever he would be remembered as the one who was the greatest smith the race of the Eldar had ever seen – and the one who was even though he was born as an Eldar not truly one of them.
Most thought of him as respectless and arrogant, even more so those who knew of his love to Galadriel or his habit of shortening the name of their prince. At first Legolas had been offended to be called Lass by his ""second Father" but after a time he had come to love the teasing of the older elf and had returned it in kind. He missed their quarrel almost as much as Celebrimbor himself.
But you have Gimli.
A thought, no not a thought but an consolation whispered in the voice of his long lost friend flickered through his memories and he called out in the tongue of his friend that had the same biting wit Celebrimbor had possessed.
They are both children Aules, one by blood and one by oath. They would get along so well, both more fascinated with stones than with stars – and both love Galadriel and will never gain her.
Thranduil had returned to the side of his son as soon as Elrond had left the room, not needing to look in his friends eyes to know that his son was fast fading. Yet, even though he had almost no doubt left that his beloved child would fade he could not give up on his hope that his son would live. Were he to give up that hope he would fade even before his son and he knew that his son needed him now more that ever before. Even though he was proud that his son was the Cale au Aratar he wished that it had been someone else. His son would not be lying there on his bed, dying from a poison that had been believed forgotten if he had not been their promised Light.
As soon as he had learned who was responsible for his sons suffering he had ordered his guards to hunt down the traitor, the one who had caused with his treacherously so much pain to their prince. Mithrandir may not have known it when he broke Sarumans staff, but with that action, casting him out of the White Order he allowed the Eldar to persecute the traitor after their own laws and Saruman had broken three of the few laws that called for a death penalty: he had recreated Morgoths tears, the most terrible of poisons, he had attempted to kill the Cale au Aratar and even worse he had tried to turn him.
Nothing was a greater crime in the eyes of the Eldar than to turn one of them into a creature Morgoths, into an Orc; and to try to commit that crime on their prince... Eru may have mercy with the former Istar for they wouldn't have. Everyone believed the Eldar to be graceful, strong – and forgiving. Only few knew that they may be the first two but certainly not the third. The Eldar were hard to scorn but if you had managed to direct their wrath to you than you would be spared no mercy and Saruman had not only caught the wrath of one of them but of their whole race, not even the gentlest of the Eldar would be willing to grant him mercy after what he had done. No, Saruman would rue the day he had followed the call of the Valar to help guard Arda.
Thranduils dark thoughts were interrupted as he heard his son call out in the tongue of the dwarfs. As much as he disliked Aules children he had known since his sons early childhood that his son was fascinated by them, more even that he tried to befriend them and if he had to chose between his son and his dislike for dwarfs he would always chose his son.
Gracefully the king of Eryn Lasgalen vacated the chair by his sons bed and walked over to the door after motioning to his brother in law to place the second empty chair next to the one he had occupied moments before. For his sons sake he would make the effort to befriend Gimli, Gloins son.
Every head turned at his entrance, fear etched onto every single of them. Not heading the others he walked over to where the dwarf stood in deep discussion with Aragorn and bowed before the dwarf, eliciting startled glances from everyone present.
"Master Gimli, I have wronged your father and his friends when they passed through my realm but I ask you to put aside my behaviour and come to my families aid."
The words of the proud Elven king shocked those present even more than his bowing, not even those who knew him for millennia could remember an occasion where he apologised more sincerely. Bewildered Gimli knew at first not how to react: all his life he had heard from his father and his fathers comrades how arrogant and all around disgusting king Thranduil was and now that very same king who had imprisoned his father was apologising to him and begging for his help. If it hadn't been for Legolas he would have laughed at the king and denied all help, but this was not the king he was looking at but a broken father who feared for the life of his child, Legolas. His face was pale, paler that it was normal for the Fair Race and looked drawn. His eyes, Gimli realised for the first time were dull and nearly lifeless, filled with shadows, pain and fear. Before he could think of it he repeated the kings gesture and bowed before him:
"You did not wrong my father and his companions, you had every right to imprison those who trespassed your lands – but I accept your apology, my king, even though it is not needed and offer you my help as a friend not so you are indebted."
For moments it seemed as if the king were to smile but that impression was soon overridden by the worried frown he had carried when he had entered the room.
"My son has called out in your tongue – I bid you to find out what worries him so much."
Together they entered the sleeping chamber of their son and friend, their breath hitching as they became once again aware of how close to death Legolas really was. Althilwen did not even look up as they sat opposite from her and instead starred transfixed at the face of the man she loved.
# "Legolas, my friend!" #
He spoke softly in his own tongue, hoping to gauge a reaction from his still friend, however the reaction he did receive was not what he had expected or hoped for, there was no recognition in those words, no life.
# "So I have fulfilled my oath, a son of Aule calls me his friend, Celebrimbor will not believe me when I tell him that ..." #
Shocked Gimli starred at his friend praying that he had misheard what he had spoken but knowing in his heart that he had not.