Chapter 23
"Legolas?"
"Yes, Estel?" The young man and the elven prince sat next to each other in a secluded spot on the riverbank. It was a mild summer evening, and the sun was setting in the west.
"When you are leaving tomorrow, will you remember me?"
Shocked by this question, Legolas turned to face his companion. "How can you ask? You know how much I care for you."
Estel leaned forward and held Legolas tightly. He buried his face in the light hair, and his voice was slightly muffled as he whispered, "You have not said much recently … I am afraid that perhaps you have now decided that it might be better if you forget me on your return."
"Estel, do you know me so little?" Legolas looked saddened. He hesitated. "I have not said anything because … because the thought of not being with you hurts so much, not because I want to push you away. How could you misread me so much?"
"Oh, Legolas … I am just worried … I still feel that I am not worthy of your love. You are the son a king, and I am just a mortal of a tainted line. What can I offer you?"
"You offer me your love … and that is a very special gift, Estel. You are special. One day you will be king."
The conviction in Legolas' voice brought a smile to Estel's face, despite the sadness he felt.
"I do not think that is very likely, but I am glad you believe so much in me. I will not forget you as long as I live." It was Legolas' turn to smile at that somewhat pompous promise from a sixteen–year old.
They held each other for a long time in silence. After a while, Estel began to kiss Legolas. He let his hands run over the smooth skin of Legolas' face and into the top of his tunic. It did not take much for the elf to respond. Desire turned into passion, but both tried to give pleasure, rather than to receive it themselves. Estel remembered that evening of farewell for a long time to come, Legolas' face, his eyes, dark with desire one moment, but later sparkling with unshed tears; his hands, his body against his own.
Some time later, they lay next to each other in the cool evening breeze. Legolas pushed himself up on his elbows so that he could see Estel's face.
"Estel, I promise you, I will return for your birthday. I will be here for your majority celebration."
"Legolas! It is too early in the year – the journey will be too difficult! I do not want to you to take this risk."
"I will come. I promise." Legolas leant forward, and sealed his promise with a kiss.
They did not return to their bedrooms this night. They sat together, holding each other tight until dawn broke. Then it was time for Legolas to ready himself.
o-o-o-
Linden and Calanthir, too, had spent a sleepless night. Not for the first time they talked how they would tell Lindwen's parents of their decision to get bonded, and what would come afterwards. Sitting in Calanthir's secluded garden, Lindwen was leaning against Calanthir's shoulders.
"You know that my parents expect a betrothal to Legolas. I am really dreading their reaction. I have tried to tell them over and over again that we are only friends, but they just did not listen!" Anger coloured the elf-maid's voice.
Thoughtfully Calanthir leaned his chin on Lindwen's head. "Lindwen, if you need to defy your parents and come to live here – would you do that? It is more than I could ask of you."
Lindwen sighed. "This has occurred to me already. If it comes to that – the answer is yes. They dragged me to Mirkwood against my will, and I was only a few years off my majority. I have found living there difficult, getting to know Legolas better has helped, but I would much rather live here again. I think my parents would be angry first but then they would accept my decision. At least I hope so."
"Lindwen?" Calanthir paused. "How much do you mind that if you bond to me you are not likely to bear children?"
Lindwen shrugged her shoulders. "I cannot answer that question fully. I have never really thought about it until recently. It is important, and yet it is not. I cannot imagine bonding to anyone else, and I feel the mere possibility of a child is a small price to pay for spending the rest of my life with you."
"I am sorry, Lindwen, for not being – more adequate."
"Calanthir! I never want to hear you say that again. You are more than adequate, you are my chosen mate. I do not wish for anyone else."
"If you bonded to Legolas, you would have everything your parents wish for. You would be married to a prince, and you would bear royal children. And – he is not unattractive."
Lindwen turned in Calanthir's arms. Her expression was almost angry. "Stop it, Calanthir. Legolas is not in the least attracted to me, and he, too, has already found a partner. No, my parents' dream will not come true. And this is final."
After sitting for a while in silence, Lindwen got up and pulled Calanthir after her. "Come, I know of better ways to spend our last night than to sit here and be sorry for ourselves. Come on … "
o-o-o-
Farewells the next morning were a quiet affair. After breakfast, Legolas formally thanked Elrond for his hospitality, and then everyone was ready. The Lasgalen warriors had readied the horses. Legolas swung himself up onto his horse with an effortless grace that Estel watched with a sharp pang of pain. 'I will not see him for such a long time.' It took the young man considerable effort to hide his sadness.
They said goodbye quickly and formally, but Estel saw the pain in Legolas' dark eyes as the prince leant down for a last affectionate gesture. For a brief moment, his hand tangled in Estel's hair. "I will be back for your birthday, Estel. I promise."
Then Legolas sat up straight, for a moment every inch the proud prince he was. "It is time to leave. Farewell." On this sign, the delegation from Mirkwood turned their horses and clattered through the courtyard towards the forest path.
Estel stood rooted in the same spot until he could see the riders no longer. He felt as if someone had taken his heart and wrenched it from his body. And yet, Legolas' last words to him rang in his ears. 'I will be back for your birthday, Estel. I promise.'
Suddenly he felt hands on his shoulders. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he had not noticed his father's approach.
"Come, Estel. They needed to return home, you know that. Autumn is approaching fast, they have been here for most of the summer." The elf-lord's strong hands turned his foster son around. "Do not think me completely insensitive, I may not approve of your relationship but I can see you are hurting."
He hesitated. "From what I have seen of the two of you, Legolas will be back, approval or not. In the end, Estel, you have to make your own choices, and so does Legolas. You are both still very young, that is one of my main concerns – that you are making choices too early. "
Estel looked up and met his father's gaze. Elrond pulled him close, and gratefully Estel leant his head against Elrond's shoulder. He knew that Elrond acted graciously, the elf-lord did not approve of his relationship and yet offered support. And he was hurting; Legolas' departure was hard to take.
o-o-o-
For Legolas and his company, the return trip began uneventfully. The weather held for the first few days, but deteriorated as they approached the mountains. As they neared the high pass, they found themselves battling with sheets of rain, some of it already mixed with sleet. The previously dry underground became treacherous, and even the sure-footed elven horses struggled.
They faced the final ascent in poor conditions. Rain and ice were driven in sheets across their path by a viscious northerly wind. Suddenly, Lindwen's horse, a chestnut coloured mare, whinnied, stumbled and fell. Surprised by the sudden unexpected movement, Lindwen lost her seat and hit the ground hard. The remainder of the party stopped immediately. Legolas slipped of his horse and ran to Lindwen. She was lying sideways on the rocky path.
"Lindwen! Are you injured? What happened?" Lindwen lifted her head but otherwise did not move. Her voice was barely audible. "My horse stumbled. I think I fell on some sharp rocks with my side. I am bleeding – I can feel it."
Legolas looked up at their escort. "She is injured. We need to find shelter and see to her wounds." Tirond, the oldest of the warriors knew the way between Lasgalen and Rivendell well.
"There is no shelter now on this side of the pass. We must get to the other side. There is no choice – there is nothing here where we can find shelter.
"Lindwen? Can I turn you so that I can see how badly you are injured?" Lindwen nodded, bracing herself for the pain. Legolas gently turned the elf-maid around, and involuntarily gasped. Lindwen had indeed fallen on some sharp rocks, which had pierced her side. She was losing blood quickly; the ground was already coloured red where she had lain.
Legolas panicked. This was beyond his skills. He was not healer-trained and, bar dealing with spider bites and some minor wounds, had not had much experiences of dealing with injuries.
"Tirond? Can you help her?"
The older warrior knelt down, his dark hair blowing across his face. "I will try my best." He gently lifted Lindwen's cloak and tunic – for travelling she wore a tunic and leggings no different from the clothing of the elven males. Her side was badly lacerated, and bleeding freely. There was certain to be some damage to organs. Tirond removed as much of the material as he could. Lindwen groaned and shivered as her wounded side was exposed to the wet and cold.
Tirond looked concerned. "She has either damaged her kidney or her spleen. She can survive both, but she is losing too much blood. We need to bind this, when we have found shelter, I will see what I can do." Legolas was already rummaging through his pack for bandages. With a nod, Tirond carefully tied Lindwen's wounds without any attempt of cleaning them – the priority was to stop the blood flow, everything else needed to wait.
He then looked up. "She will not be able to ride by herself, and on this path we cannot use a stretcher. Someone will have to hold her."
"I will." There was determination in Legolas' voice. Tirond simply nodded. He pulled Lindwen's torn clothing back over her side. "She needs to be kept warm – at least two blankets." These were quickly found. "Mount up, Prince Legolas, I will pass her up to you."
Lindwen could not suppress a small cry of pain as she was moved. Tirond tried to be as careful as possible, but it was impossible not to hurt her more. Legolas sat as far back on his horse as he could – riding without a saddle allowed the elves to make full use of a horse's back. As Lindwen was passed up, he settled her against himself, and arranged the blankets around her to cover her as best as he could.
Suddenly he realised that there were other groans and grunts. Lindwen's horse. The injured animal was lying on its side, its brown eyes full of pain and the bones on its foreleg poking through the skin painfully.
"Tirond, we need to kill the horse. It would be cruel to leave her."
The older warrior nodded, and with a swift stroke of his knife, he ended the misery of the animal. "We must move on. Shelter is several hours ride away."
o-o-o-
They rode on. They were nearing the pass, but the weather deteriorated more and more. Sleet and rain turned into snow, which was being driven into their backs by the relentless wind. Lindwen was still in Legolas' arms. They had ridden for about two hours, when she stirred.
"Lindwen?" There was concern in Legolas' voice. The elf-maid tried to turn her face towards the prince. "Legolas, I will not last this ride. Mandos is calling me." Her voice was pain-filled and breathless.
"Lindwen! Do not say such things! We will find shelter and Tirond will look after you. You must not even think such things!"
Lindwen's brown eyes sought Legolas' eyes. "Legolas, before I … leave … tell Calanthir that I love him. Tell him … that he is not inadequate … that he would have had a daughter." The last was said so faintly that Legolas had to lean forward to hear the words. "Tell my parents I love them, too …" Lindwen's eyes closed and she sighed.
"Lindwen! Lindwen! What is the matter? … Speak to me! Lindwen?"
"Tirond! We need to stop! Something has happened to Lindwen!"
The wind was howling and blowing snow all around them, but the older warrior reacted to the anxiety in Legolas' voice. "We are almost over the pass, we should be out of this wind on the other side, and can stop."
They crested the mountain a few moments later. On the other side, the wind was indeed less, even if it was still snowing heavily.
Tirond stopped, and slid of his mount. "I'll take her from you." Carefully he lifted the still form out of Legolas' arms. They all dismounted, and Tirond carefully moved the blankets off Lindwen. Legolas watched anxiously. At first, Tirond's face showed concern, and then in quick succession, shock and sadness. He looked up. "Prince Legolas … she is gone … she has died." There was no gentle way of breaking this news. "She was too severely injured for such a ride."
Legolas was so shocked that he did not react at all. Lindwen dead? She was young; she still had many millennia to live. She could not be dead! Death was rare amongst elves, almost always limited to the battlefield. No one Legolas knew well had died. He was completely stunned. Lindwen could not be dead, not in such a short time; no elf could die from falling of a horse! Legolas' mind simply refused to process the information.
"That cannot be. You must be mistaken."
Tirond sighed. He knew he was not, he had seen death before. There was deep sadness in his voice, when he said, "Prince Legolas … she is gone. I have seen it before. She has passed to the Halls of Mandos. There is nothing we can do for her here anymore."
Legolas had gone so white that for a moment Tirond thought the prince would collapse. He did not, but slowly knelt down next to the girl's body. He lifted her gently and cradled her head. "Lindwen, you cannot leave like this … there is too much to live for. Please, come back…"
As most Mirkwood warriors, Tirond had no great fondness for Legolas. He had been given the assignment to escort Lindwen and Legolas to Rivendell, and had complied. He had not seen much of Legolas in Rivendell, and so far he had always experienced the prince as cold and remote. But now … the distress of the younger elf touched him. He knew that Lindwen and Legolas had been close, friends or lovers, he was not sure, but either way her unexpected death would be very difficult for such a young elf as the prince.
"Prince Legolas, it is getting dark … we should get further down the mountain and out of this snow. Come, you cannot help her know." He pulled the younger elf up and guided him to his horse. Without being aware of what he was doing, Legolas mounted. "Do you want to hold her?"
"Yes." The answer was a whisper. Tirond wrapped Lindwen again in the blankets, and passed the still bundle to Legolas. Then they continued.
They made it some way further down the mountain before darkness fell. They stopped between some windswept oak trees, the first shelter they had encountered since the pass. Here, further down the mountain, there was less snow.
o-o-o-
On Tirond's sign, they dismounted and made camp. Legolas sat next to Lindwen's body, still unable to comprehend what had happened. It simply could not be true. He sat next to her, dozens of image flooding his mind. Lindwen's warm brown eyes smiling at him, images of her walking under the trees in Mirkwood, her long dark hair open and swinging behind her. Lindwen swimming in the river with powerful strokes. He remembered how she moved, what she liked to eat, her voice. Her affection for Calanthir. Calanthir! He would need to be told.
Legolas was so wrapped up in his thoughts and sorrow that he was not even aware of the fact that the others prepared the camp for the night and an evening meal. It was only when a bowl of hot food was placed in his hands, that he became aware of his surroundings again. Looking up, Legolas simply shook his head. He could not possibly eat at the moment.
The other warriors settled down for the night. Everyone was subdued and sad; the death of such a young elf was a terrible blow to everyone. Tirond took the watch whilst the others tried to get some rest. Legolas did not move.
It was only much later when the tears came. Sudden, unbidden. Suddenly Legolas found tears streaming down his face, and he was completely unable to stop them, or entirely to suppress the sobs that shook him to the core. He had not thought such pain possible.
After a while, Tirond came and stood behind him. He simply laid his hands on Legolas' shoulders, giving support without intruding into the younger elf's grief.
Suddenly, Legolas looked up, his eyes red and swollen. "Before she … died, she said that she was with child. A little girl." Tirond knelt down next to Legolas. To be robbed of your lover was terrible, but to lose your child as well … it was unbearable. Tirond was now seriously concerned for Legolas. Grief could kill elves, but Legolas was still so young himself. He had so much to live for yet.
Early the next morning, Tirond raised an uncomfortable issue. "Prince Legolas, we are still a week away from home. We cannot carry a … body all this way. We need to bury her, and set a marker."
"Why can we not take her home?" There was no understanding in Legolas' dark eyes.
Tirond sighed. "Soon we will be again in an area where it is much warmer. A week is too long …" He really did not want to get more explicit.
Legolas looked at the older warrior. Finally he nodded. Tirond was right, of course. It just did not bear thinking about.
o-o-o-
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