Folks, the story has just jumped from PG to PG-13 on account of Elrohir's mouth. Actually, I suppose it's what comes out of Gandalf's mouth, as repeated by Elrohir. Oh, I see: now you're suddenly interested!
Gilraen: I promise that I will not kill Legolas! I am much too infatuated with him to do away with him! As to the other matter, I think I must disagree with you somewhat. Even Gandalf was almost entirely blind to Saruman's evil. As Gandalf observes at the Council of Elrond (book version), if he had had any suspicions, he would not have gone to Isengard, or at least would have gone more carefully, on the occasion when Saruman imprisons him upon the top of Orthanc. There is a hint, though, that Galadriel may have suspected something, for she wanted Gandalf to head the Council of Elves and wizards that met from time to time.
Farflung, Kitsune, Dragonfly, and Joee: Oh, all right! I'll end the suspense over what happens to Legolas. ^_^
Athena Diagon Cat: More Gandalf humor coming up toward the end of this chapter.
Tawarmaenas was right: Legolas had a fast horse. At the pace Legolas was traveling, it was indeed unlikely that anyone or anything could have 'crept up' on him, at least not as long as he was on the plain, with a clear view from all sides. On the other hand, had he continued to ride so swiftly, his father and the other pursuing Elves would never have been able to catch up with him in time to prevent him from approaching either the Misty Mountains or Fangorn Forest, where conditions would be dodgier. Legolas, however, was soon to encounter a check of an unexpected nature. He made such good time that he at length found himself in the midst of Beorn's horses, who, having safely escorted Estel and the Rivendell Elves to Mirkwood, had been grazing their way back toward their master. As soon as Legolas came up upon this herd, the horses surrounded him. Legolas would not have minded, except that the horses were moving due west and began to carry him along with them. Like Elrond and Glorfindel, Legolas assumed that he ought to head south, and he immediately began to try to disentangle himself from the herd. Again and again, Legolas urged his horse toward the outside of the herd, but he was blocked each time as one horse or another pressed up upon his horse's flanks and forced him back into the center of the herd. At last, frustrated, Legolas gave up and let the herd carry him along. He guessed that they were taking him to Beorn's settlement.
Sure enough, after several hours riding, they arrived at the line of tall trees behind which was to be found Beorn's compound. Legolas dismounted and watched his stallion trot off to pasture in the company of Beorn's horses. Then he passed through the gate breaching the thorn hedge that protected the compound. Within, he found Beorn outside his hall pinning down several freshly skinned warg hides.
The big bear of a Man looking shrewdly at the Elf.
"Ah, young prince Legolas. So it is your father's practice to allow his son and heir to ride out alone. Strange. I would not have thought it. 'Tis true you have journeyed once before without an escort—but on that occasion you were running away."
Legolas found the Shape Changer's penetrating gaze to be disconcerting, and he gazed down at the dirt.
"I am on an important errand," he muttered.
"Indeed? Then it is very kind of you to take the time to visit my land."
Legolas could hear the mirth in Beorn's voice, and he was thrown into even greater confusion. Beorn arose to his feet and brushed the dust from his leggings.
'I was about to take my ease amongst the denizens of my bee pastures. Would you grace me with your company?"
"As if I had any choice in the matter," thought Legolas sourly. Aloud he said, "It would be an honor."
Silently, he walked alongside Beorn, who bore a bundle. When they had arrived at the bee pastures, Beorn opened the bundle, which proved to contain an excellent repast of those foods for which Beorn's settlement was famed: nutty, chewy bread and ample honey and clotted cream to spread upon each slice. He carried a water bladder as well, and its contents were cold and sweet. They ate sitting in the sun, the air warm but not too much so, the humming of the bees a soothing backdrop to their conversation, which meandered over many light topics, Beorn not pressing Legolas to explain his 'errand' but encouraging him to share news of no great import about Thranduil and Tawarmaenas, trifles that nonetheless reminded Legolas of how much he loved his father and his cousin.
Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by the sound of galloping horses, distant but unmistakable. Alarmed, Legolas leapt to his feet. Had his father's servants come to fetch him? For all he had been reminded of his love for his father, he did not wish to be dragged back to the Great Hall.
Beorn, however, remained placidly seated.
"Elves are said to have good hearing. How is it that you have not perceived that these horses are approaching from the west?"
Legolas blushed, but he remained standing. To the west lay Lórien. Perhaps messengers were arriving with news of Mithrandir. Anxiously, he gazed off into the distance. Three horses. Elves. Yes, dressed in the garb of Lothlórien. Haldir and his brothers! Legolas let out a whoop, which earned him an amused glance from Beorn, but he did not care. He was wriggling like an elfling by the time the Lórien Elves slowed their horses to a walk.
"Legolas," shouted Rúmil, "have you been sitting upon an ant-hill?"
"What news, Rúmil!? What news!?"
"Mithrandir is safe!" called Haldir. "The Lady has seen it in her Mirror."
"Aye," added Orophin. "For days a dark cloud shrouded her Mirror, and the Lady could see nothing. Then Mithrandir broke free of his captor, and the cloud likewise broke. Mithrandir is at Isengard, with Elrond, Glorfindel, your foster-brothers, and your friend Thoron."
Isengard. Legolas made a face at that, but it was unlikely any harm would befall Mithrandir or any of the others. Too many witnesses.
Gaily, the three Lórien Elves accompanied Legolas and Beorn back to his hall. Once inside, Haldir and his brothers looked about in surprise. There were no guards whiling away their time between escorting Legolas to and fro Mirkwood.
"Where are you guards?" asked a puzzled Orophin.
"I have none," said Legolas.
"No guards. I cannot believe that!" exclaimed Haldir. "I am sure it is not like Thranduil to fail to safeguard the treasure that is more precious to him than any other!"
"Nevertheless, I am alone."
Rúmil spoke then. "You have run away," he said grimly.
All three of his friends looked at him accusingly. Legolas was bewildered. He had not expected this reaction.
"But," he said faintly, "I have run away before, and you laughed at my cleverness at eluding my elders—aye, at eluding you, too."
"You are of age, Legolas," said Haldir soberly, "and you cannot always be running away whene'er it suits you. What can be forgiven in a youngling cannot always be o'erlooked in an older Elf who should himself be a model to the young. For I warrant you have urged Estel to give over behavior such as yours."
Shamefaced, Legolas had to concede that he had. But still he tried to explain himself.
"I only ran off to look for Mithrandir."
"Then your actions were well-motivated but ill-considered," Orophin observed. "You would have accomplished little on your own and were likely to draw off forces that could have otherwise been devoted to the hunt. Indeed, at this very moment likely there are Mirkwood Elves searching for you who would else have been dispatched to join those seeking Mithrandir."
This had not occurred to Legolas, that rather than helping Mithrandir, he would be drawing aid away from him.
"And I would venture to guess," Rúmil joined in, "that you did not even know where to begin searching!"
"I knew to head south," argued Legolas.
"Ooooh, such a precise destination, 'south'."
Legolas now felt silly as well as ashamed. But he would not leave off trying to justify his behavior.
"My father grabbed my wrist," said Legolas a trifle sullenly.
The Lórien Elves looked at one another.
"Meaning?" said Haldir.
Legolas could not find words to explain.
"I don't like anyone grabbing my wrist, is all," he muttered. He knew he sounded as petulant as an elfling.
"Legolas, one time long ago, Celeborn grabbed Orophin's braid—"
"Oh, don't tell that story!" begged Orophin.
"—braid," continued Haldir. "It was when Orophin was an elfling and less—graceful—than he is today."
Legolas had to smile a little. Everyone knew that Orophin was the least graceful of the three brothers.
"Orophin was frolicking about the Lord and Lady's talan, when Celeborn suddenly realized that he was teetering upon its edge. Celeborn sprang forward, and just as Orophin lost his balance altogether, Celeborn seized hold of his braid and pulled him back."
Orophin winced at the memory.
"So if I were you," Rúmil chimed in, "I would not resent overmuch being seized by the wrist. It could have been your hair!"
Legolas tried to consider how this tale might apply to him. Saruman had seized his wrist to draw him into peril, but his Ada had grabbed hold of him in an attempt to protect him from danger, as Celeborn had done when he had laid hold of Orophin's braid. No, he thought to himself, his father's gesture had not at all been like Saruman's. Still, he hadn't liked it, he still didn't like it, and he would ask his father never to do it again. He was willing to venture that his Ada would try to respect his wishes. Of course, given that he now understood that he and Thranduil had two things in common—stubbornness and impulsiveness!—he knew his father might not be able to guarantee that it would never happen again. But Legolas also knew that he would never again perceive it as threat.
"You are right," he conceded. "I was wrong to run off, and my father meant me no harm—although it will be harder to admit that to my Ada than to you!"
"Yes," laughed Haldir, "and we have told nothing that he would have not have told you as well—but it is said that the young will accept correction from their peers that they would reject if the remonstrances came from the mouths of their elders."
"Of whom you are now one, O Wise One," teased Legolas.
All laughed, Beorn included. Just at that moment one of the Shape Changer's equine servants trotted up and nuzzled his master, nickering softly, as if he were relaying a message. When the horse had left, Beorn addressed his guests.
"A large party of Elven riders approaches. From the east this time," he added, looking hard at Legolas. "It seems that at their head is a most distinguished Elf, royalty by his garb and by the deference shown him by the other Elves."
Legolas paled.
"Is it so dreadful, Legolas," asked Beorn, "to have a father ride out in search of his son?"
Legolas thought over Beorn's words: his father, in love and fear, riding out in order to recover him. He had at first been unable to think of it in this fashion, focusing instead upon the idea that his Ada was trying to thwart him. But why had he been trying to thwart him? Not to manipulate him, not to control him, but to protect him. Surely he could not resent actions that arose from such a motive.
"I think," said Legolas slowly, "that I ought to go out and greet the riders."
Beorn nodded gravely, and Haldir and his brothers tactfully said that they preferred to remain inside, out of the sun. Legolas took a deep breath and walked out into the foreyard to await the company. He drew himself up as straight as he could. The riders drew near. Yes, there was the King at their head. The company halted before Legolas, and his father dismounted from his stallion. As soon as he had done so, Legolas bowed his head and dropped upon one knee.
"My Lord and my Father," he said, "I was wrong to disobey you on three scores, for you are my sovereign, my elder, and my Adar."
Thranduil raised him up by the shoulders and kissed him upon the forehead.
"True, but I spoke and behaved precipitously as well. However, we will talk of this later. For now, is there any news of Mithrandir?"
"Yes, Ada! He is safe!"
"The Valar be praised! And those who went in search of him?"
"Safe as well, Ada."
"Ah," teased Thranduil, "if that is so, perhaps we shall talk of your disobedience now."
"Ada!"
Thranduil smiled and said softly, "Nay, my son, I shall not chastise you in front of all these eyes—but we will exchange words later!"
Gratefully, Legolas nodded. His father slipped his arm through his and side by side they entered Beorn's dwelling. Smiling with relief at the smoothness of this second reunion, Gilglîr followed.
Beorn greeted Thranduil graciously, and the King replied in kind. Then he turned to the Lórien Elves and addressed them as genially as if he had not been riding across the plain in uneasy pursuit of an errant son.
"Haldir, what brings you and your brothers to Beorn's settlement?"
"We were sent to bear news of Mithrandir's escape, my Lord, for the Lady was sure that Legolas would be anxiously awaiting word."
"Ah," said Thranduil wryly, "he was anxious indeed, but he could hardly have been said to have 'waited'."
Legolas winced, but his father smiled at him and patted his arm before resuming his questioning of Haldir.
"And now that you have delivered your message, what will you do?"
"I suppose," said Haldir reluctantly, "that my brothers and I shall return to Lothlórien, as we have performed our duty."
"But are you expected? Are you needed? In short, is there any reason that you could not accompany us back to Greenwood? My son would be very glad if you did—aye, and my nephew, too. Moreover, there are others who would be eager to see you. Elladan and Elrohir will no doubt soon join us, and Estel is already there—you do know Estel, do you not?"
Haldir laughed.
"Who knows not Estel, my Lord!?"
"So you will come?"
"Yes, my Lord. I do not believe that Lord Celeborn or Lady Galadriel would object. We were not expected to return for several days."
"If you like, a few of my Elves could carry word to the Lord and the Lady that you and your brothers have gone on with me not as messengers but as guests."
"Thank you, my Lord."
The next day the Elves parted amiably from Beorn and rode toward Mirkwood at a leisurely pace. Several days after they had returned to the Great Hall, Mithrandir and his Elven companions at last arrived there as well. If he could have, Legolas would have thrown his arms around all of them at the same time.
"Ada!" he cried, practically leaping into Elrond's arms. "And Mithrandir!" he shouted, loosing his foster-father and seizing the wizard.
"Ooomph! I am still a little sore, Legolas!"
"Oh, I am sorry, Mithrandir!"
"Well, well, never mind, but go and leap upon your foster-brothers—they can stand it better than I."
Legolas proceeded to do just that, for good measure tackling Thoron as well. Then he squeezed Erestor and Glorfindel until both Elves swore their ribs were cracking. At last Legolas stepped back and surveyed the party. It was then that he noticed what Gandalf was wearing.
"Mithrandir, you are dressed all in white!"
"Aye. We come from Isengard, as you no doubt know, and Saruman, the head of my order, was so kind as to furnish me with a robe from his wardrobe, as my own robe was tattered past decency."
"The color suits you, Mithrandir."
Indeed it did, much better than the color suited Saruman. The Lord of Isengard had ever looked sallow in his flowing robe, but the dazzling white of Mithrandir's garment seemed to be answered by a glow that came from within the wizard himself. Elrond and Glorfindel had thought the same but had not ventured to say so in the presence of Saruman. As for the Lord of Isengard, it vexed him greatly to see Gandalf garbed all in white, but he had nothing else on hand to offer the Grey Wizard.
"As soon as I have laid hands on a new robe, Saruman, I shall send this one back to you."
Saruman professed to be unconcerned.
"Oh, do not trouble yourself, Mithrandir. Mayhap you can dye the robe grey and make further use of it. I understand that your wardrobe is not extensive." Saruman meant that last statement to be a gibe, but it did not occur to Gandalf that there may be anything shameful about owning little more than one could wear upon one's back.
Gandalf examined a fold of the garment.
"This is fine stuff," he said. "I do not think the cloth would stand up under the hard use that I visit upon my garments. That mauve robe is a case in point. Elrond, was that not one of Erestor's, meant to be worn in the library? I think my own robe would not have been shredded quite so completely."
Elrond confirmed that it had indeed been one of Erestor's robes.
"So you see, Saruman, I doubt I could ever wear one of your robes."
"That is all to the good," Saruman gloated to himself.
But Gandalf had worn the robe on the journey from Isengard to Lórien and on to Mirkwood, and very elegant he looked. Elrond had restored his staff to him, and now, as he stood erect, his expression its usual mixture of humor and wisdom, he looked as lordly as a king. Legolas could hardly bear to think that he had very nearly been lost to them.
"If he should ever fall," Legolas thought, "it would be as the end of the world. I do not know how I would be able to go on, although perforce go on I would."
Legolas shook these thoughts off and turned his mind to the present just in time to hear Thranduil promise Gandalf that Edwen Nana would sew him a new grey robe forthwith.
"Would you like the robe to be an embroidered one, Mithrandir? Edwen Nana dotes on embroidery only a little less than she dotes on Legolas."
"Oh, no!" replied Gandalf, alarmed. "I have heard all about Edwen Nana's embroidery. I do not want birds flying across my back or frogs hopping up my arms."
"Not even horses galloping around the hem," teased Thranduil.
"No!"
Thranduil laughed.
"Very well. A plain grey robe it shall be, made up of the sturdiest cloth in my kingdom."
"Thank you, Thranduil."
Thranduil, Gilglîr, and their guests moved off toward Thranduil's private chambers, where they were to celebrate with a small 'family' party. Neither Tawarmaenas nor Legolas were to be at this initial feast, however, for their punishment, which until now had been held in abeyance, had come due. Tawarmaenas spent the evening helping the Cellarer wrestle barrels onto the lading dock—and the shipment was a particularly large one, too. As for Legolas, he was banished to the nursery, so to speak, for he had to spend the evening with his Edwen Nana. At first he did not mind, for she fussed over him, fixed his favorite foods, and drew him a warm bath. Once he was in the bath, however, to his horror she began bustling in and out of the room, each time bearing with her some object that she thought needful or inquiring as to whether he required assistance.
"You must let me spread this oil upon the water. Your skin looks rather dry."
And then: "This unguent will help mend that bruise I see upon your leg."
In swift succession:
"This soap will do better than that one—it smells of mint."
"Be sure to wrap yourself in this towel when you come out—it is the thickest, softest one I have."
"Does that brush allow you to reach your back? I'll scrub your back for you if it doesn't."
"Be sure to slip on these buskins when you come out, else your feet will be dirty and cold."
Legolas vociferously protested these repeated intrusions, but she heeded him not at all.
"Do not forget," she chided him, "that I changed your nappies before ever you wore leggings."
"Nana!"
"Well, 'tis true," she said serenely.
The ultimate humiliation came when Edwen Nana cheerfully announced that she was going to wash Legolas' hair. At once Legolas ducked under the water. He held his breathe so long that Edwen Nana was at last forced to give up the attempt and retreat from the chamber. Legolas surfaced cautiously and looked around the room, sighing with relief to find that he truly was alone.
"Ada is very clever in his punishments," he grumbled. "I fancy he could teach even Elrond a thing or two. Ada means me to understand that if I act like an elfling, I am to be treated like one. Well, I do understand, and as the Valar are my witness, Nana will never again be presented with a chance to bathe me!"
Of course, Reader, many years were still to pass before Legolas played his part in the momentous events at the end of the Third Age, when he performed the deeds for which he is justifiably renowned throughout Middle Earth. It is both possible and probable that there were occasions when his resolution to behave less like an elfling was tested and found wanting. This Author assures you that she shall pore over the chronicles for evidence of such occasions. If she finds such evidence, she shall lay it out before you.
Be that as it may, at this moment Legolas was washing his hair as quickly as he could, for he wanted to forestall any new incursion by his Nana. Then he dressed so hastily that he was really not quite dry as he pulled on tunic and leggings—Nana would have clucked with concern had she seen how damp he was. As it was, when she reappeared, she scolded him for not tending to his hair properly and insisted upon not only drying it but combing and braiding it as well. It was both a clean and a chastened Legolas who at last escaped from the embraces of his Nana to rejoin his friends, who were by now gathered in Legolas' room awaiting the two miscreants. Tawarmaenas showed up shortly after Legolas, and the fun began. Tawarmaenas had made off with several bottles of Dorwinion wine—"I thought I might as well make the best of my punishment," he said—and the young Elves commenced sharing both the wine and their exploits. Legolas listened eagerly as Elrohir, Elladan, and Thoron took turns describing their ride in search of Mithrandir. At length they came to the point at which Treebeard had abruptly deposited Mithrandir into their midst.
"You should have seen him, Legolas" chortled Elrohir. "His cloak was in shreds, as was his dignity. I know that over the centuries you have seen much of Mithrandir, but had you been there, you would have seen much more!"
"Elrohir," scolded Elladan, "you shouldn't talk so. It is not respectful."
"But Mithrandir himself was laughing at his plight," Elrohir argued. "Didn't you hear what he said to our Ada about his sword having been unsheathed?"
"Elrohir!"
Elrohir cheerfully disregarded his twin.
"And then Ada said to Mithrandir, 'I am sure you are very glad to be able to put up your sword again'. And he said, 'I should be glad of any chance to put it up, but, ai, the opportunities are few and far between'."
"Elrohir!" screeched a horrified Elladan.
"Oh, really, Elladan, sometimes I think you are Erestor's twin rather than mine!"
Both Legolas and Tawarmaenas were literally rolling on the floor laughing their—well, rolling on the floor.
At last the young Elves calmed themselves somewhat.
"Now we are here, Legolas," said Elrohir, "how are we going to spend our time?"
"Barrel-riding," declared Legolas.
"Oh, no," wailed Tawarmaenas. "Your father shall be very angry if you go out under the portcullis again!"
"But this time I shall not be going alone," replied Legolas, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Surely my father cannot object if I am in the company of other Elves."
Tawarmaenas shook his head gloomily. He had a foreboding that he and his cousin were going to spend many a day wrestling barrels onto the lading dock. Ah, well, he thought to himself, if that were true, at least they would have plenty of opportunity to filch more of the excellent wine with which his uncle stocked the wine cellar. And with that happy thought, he threw himself into a general mêlée that had broken out when Rúmil poured a bottle of said wine over Elrohir's head—accidentally, of course, for as he declared, "I would not waste good wine!" And so the young Elves carried on until they heard the rapping on the wall that signified that Gandalf had had quite enough of their noise for one night. With that the gathering broke up.
"Until tomorrow," chorused Legolas' guests.
"Aye," he grinned, "until tomorrow."