In Admiration of an Elf
By Clocky

Bergil and Tolien walked quickly to the middle of the fourth level of Minas Tirith, threading their way through people. Bergil wanted to show his new friend the grand view of the Pelennor that he had often seen when he was younger. They had just returned from a refugee camp at Pelargir, along with Tolien's mother and many other women and children. The two had met at the camp, and Bergil had promised to let her see all of the secret places and things he'd found in his years of exploring the upper levels of the city.

Bergil stopped suddenly next to the parapet. There was a gathering of barrels right up against the wall. "You just climb up on top of that one," he pointed at the topmost barrel, which looked rather precariously balanced on top of two others. "And then you can see for miles."

Tolien scaled the barrels like large steps, Bergil encouraging her. When she got to the top, she leaned against the wall, and standing on tiptoes peered over the lip.

She gasped. Below her the Pelennor stretched flat like a map. She could see the faint outlines of dirt that divided farms. But nearer the gate of Minas Tirith, there were great heaps of Orc bodies, black like the charred remains of half-burnt firewood. Between them lay hundreds of dead men, and scattered throughout were the hulking forms of great grey beasts with many spears through them. And spreading out from them all was a great dark stain which turned the grass a sickly dark brown. The sight made Tolien's throat close up, and for a moment she thought she would retch over the wall. But she took a deep breath and regained her composure, even though that breath was tainted with the smell of blood-soaked grass from below.

Tolien scrambled quickly down from her perch. "That's… horrible," she said. "Why did you… why should I have seen that?"

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't know… I forgot you hate seeing bodies. I'm sorry. When they aren't there, there's a wonderful view. Look, we shall talk about something else. The Periannath are still in the city. I showed Peregrin Took round Minas Tirith, you know."

"I know," said Tolien. "You told me in Pelargir."

"Oh." Bergil's face fell. "Well, there is an Elf in the city as well!"

"An Elf?" Tolien couldn't believe her ears. "You mean they're really... real?"

Bergil nodded. "And there's a Dwarf."

"Oh my," said Tolien, feeling slightly cheered up. "Why… how did they come here?"

"I don't know, but-" his eyes widened. "Quick! Hide!" Bergil hissed to his companion. The two ten-year-old children dove into an alley on the other side of the street. The very Elf and Dwarf that they had been talking about were coming up the street. At first, Tolien wondered why they should hide, but when she got a good look at the two creatures, she knew she would have been ashamed had they seen her.

The children had never seen anything quite like them. First, Tolien took in the Dwarf's muscular appearance and considerable beard. Then her eyes traveled upwards and saw, she was sure, the most beautiful and unearthly creature in the world. The Elf's hair was long and dark, and the edges lifted gently in the breeze. His face was fair and looked very sad, even though he laughed lightly, presumably at something the Dwarf had said. His clothes, though worn, looked fine and elegant, and he walked as though his feet carried no weight.

All of a sudden, he turned his face to the two children in the alley, and gave them a small sad smile. Tolien thought his eyes met hers, but he could just as easily have been looking over her head. The sorrowful look made Tolien feel very small and grubby.

She immediately felt ashamed to be staring, and with difficulty she pulled her gaze away from the Elf. She found that Bergil was already staring at the dusty cobbles beneath their feet. She risked a peek at the creatures, and found that they were continuing on their way.

He was like magic to them, the Elf, and they wished to see more of him and regretted looking away so quickly. Now the two children wanted desperately to see him once more before they left for Ithilien and their fathers took up positions in Lord Faramir's guard. They were ashamed that they had thoughtBergil'saunt Aniriel comely. This Elf was easily twice as beautiful as she. If anyone had told them such about Elves before, they would have scoffed, but now they began to have a sense of… something they could not place. Tolien said it was "bigness, like there is more in the world than I thought." They had certainly never thought much about Elves as an actual living race, but as something long forgotten and mythical. Few people in the City spoke of Elves, and when they did it was in a wistful faraway manner which Bergil found adults often had about them when they were speaking of things that they wished for but could not attain.

So when they saw the Elf that night, along with the Dwarf and the two mysterious Halflings, dining with the guards and their families, they were in shock. Surely he did not have to eat? Could he not drink the starlight? And surely such lowly human food would not suit him? But he looked in quite good spirits throughout the meal. When they had finished eating, Bergil and Tolien stole away to a small balcony-garden on the fifth level of the city, puzzling over him.

"He is surprising indeed," said Bergil, perching on a stone bench.

Tolien stole glances back at the Elf from the rose-covered trellis she stood by. "I heard someone call him Legolas during supper," she said, almost as one in a dream.

"Legolas," Bergil tried the name on his tongue. "What an interesting name."

"It's lovely, don't you think?" Tolien asked, sitting down upon the stone.

"Yes," said Bergil. "I wonder what it means."

Tolien, however, was not thinking of Legolas anymore. She walked slowly to the stone balcony and gazed over the white city, which seemed gray in the dark. She could very faintly see the piles of Orc bodies on the Pelennor, and she wondered what sort of hideous battle could have involved so many people. After the terrifying glimpse she'd had of the wreckage on the field, she was glad her mother had made her cover her eyes as they passed through the Pelennor on their way from the refuge.

And then she looked upward to the stars glimmering, and felt very small but very contented. She had the company of her new friend Bergil and had seen an Elf, and a Dwarf, and the famous Periannath. The war was over. The king had returned. The world was finally at peace.

A/N: Thank you for reading this. If you have any thoughts about it, please, by all means, review. Constructive criticism is welcomed. Cheers!