A/N1: The formatting errors on Chapter 7 are fixed so it is much easier to read.

A/N2: Please don't get upset about all the different kind of fruit trees in the same orchard. I understand about cross-pollination as I had the unfortunate experience once, years ago, of ruining a neighbor's crop of sweet corn, with my crop of ornamental corn. The man lived about half a mile away so I don't know if he ever realized that the purple streaks in his corn came from my garden. Anyway, I digress ... This is Middle Earth, a place with races and creatures for beyond what could be called normal – so let us pretend it could happen.

A/N3: The story of the deeds of Isildur is paraphrased from a story taken from the Akallabêth and can be found in the Silmarillion. The story will be in italics.

8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)

Every life has a measure of sorrow, and sometimes this is what awakens us.
Steven Tyler

Chapter 8

Grief and Injustice

Legolas woke next morning to the feel of Halgar's wrist on his forehead. Opening one eye, he looked at the human sitting on the edge of the bed and after determining that he was not the remnant of a bad dream, opened the other eye.

"Well?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Halgar laughed as he lightly patted the wounded elf on his shoulder.

"I think you will live Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. And since you will live, perhaps you could eat a little something before I take you on a tour of my humble home, the small village known as Hope."

He groaned, for even the thought of food made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

"I do not think I could eat anything, Halgar, and even if I did, it would probably not stay in one place for very long."

Halgar frowned as if deep in thought.

"Well then, if you are too ill to eat, you are too ill to be out of bed. Perhaps I should make a potion that will settle your stomach and keep you asleep for the rest of the day." He winked to take the sting out of his words.

"Breakfast, you say?"

"That is correct, my Prince. A small bowl of fruit picked this morning by myself."

He tried to sit up in bed by himself but when Halgar saw him turn pale from the effort, he helped him and soon the blonde elf was sitting on the bed, patiently waiting for the room – as well as his stomach – to quit spinning and lurching about.

After eating the small bowl of fruit that Halgar had prepared for him, Legolas did have to admit that he felt much better and when Halgar finally motioned to the door, he actually felt that he might survive the experience of walking about the village.

It was a simple place, built and maintained by the good honest labor of the rustic folk who had lived there. The houses were sturdy, quaint little dwellings with thatched roofs and white picket fences that stood a good distance back from the river so that if the banks of the Ninglor ever overflowed, the houses would not be in danger. Halgar called it, "giving the river room to breathe."

As the two walked down the manicured pathways, Halgar would point to this house or that and tell something about each of the people that had lived in that particular house. The laughter, the loving, the caring ... it was so evident everywhere they went, that Legolas, wood elf that he was, could almost hear the laughter and feel the love even though the creators of the moment were long gone.

Legolas noticed that the personal gardens beside most of the houses often reflected the personality of the person or persons who lived there as did the small flower beds that outlined most of the dwellings. One family might favor red roses in their flowerbed and pumpkins and squash in their gardens, another might like multi-colored tulips and tomatoes and peppers. But regardless of that fact, each garden and bed of flowers was always well tended and each row in that garden was perfectly straight with no weed or stone to mar its symmetry.

While there was a personal garden that suited each person or family's individual taste, there was also a communal garden whose bounty was there for anyone who should need it. Legolas sat on his heels and looked closely at the garden, and seeing that it was almost ready to harvest he felt a certain measure of sadness for he felt as well as understood that there was more to this garden than just the fruits and vegetables he saw before him. There was diligence, dedication and community here, for not just one or two could have tended a garden of this size – only the loving labor of many hands, sharing that responsibility could have made the magic happen.

He and Halgar next visited the small village's orchard. It was beautiful to all the senses and as a cool, gentle breeze blew in their direction, the scent of apples, peaches and other fruits came to him and he closed his eyes so that he could savor the experience to its fullest. The fruit would have been ready to harvest in another month and as Halgar explained it, both the women and men would help with not only the harvest itself, but with the processing of the fruits as well. The canning of the fruit and the making of the jams, jellies and pies and other treats was a job shared by everyone, men, women as well as the children. The women would chase the more fumble-fingered men out of their kitchens with a snap of a towel and a kiss on the cheek as they prepared the many delicacies that would last their village not only through the winter but until the next harvest was ready.

Everything about the well-tended village showed that great care had been taken to care for their homes and land to the best of their abilities and this fact said much about the character of the people that lived there. The people of Hope were a simple folk with few aspirations other than to live their lives and to work hard doing it. They lived and maintained a symbiotic relationship with the land – the people loved and took care of it and the land, in return, loved and took care of the people.

The atmosphere of Hope was surreal and he could almost believe that the people of the village had left their homes just moments before and would soon be returning from wherever it was they had gone. At more than one house, laundry was hanging from lines attached to nearby trees, the shirts and trousers waving gently in the breeze. When Legolas looked through the window of one home he saw what looked like lunch, set on the kitchen table and could almost imagine that Mother had just stepped out to call Father and the children to come inside to eat.

All around him on the ground lay other miscellaneous items belonging to the villagers. Men's hats, garden implements, children's toys and other items, waited patiently for their owners to come and put them away so that the beauty of the village would not be marred by such disarray.

Legolas found himself getting angry at the overwhelming lack of respect that he saw around him. The beautiful lawns and manicured pathways had been torn apart and in some places, destroyed by the hooves of the horses and the wheels of the carts ridden and driven by the slavers. Here and there he saw splotches of blood on the ground, which not only came from the dead but also from others who had been brutalized as the slavers forced them into their wagons and carts.

A child's doll lay on the ground with the head crushed by someone's boot heel, fences had been broken and on one house, the front door lay askew, torn half-way off its hinges by brutal hands as the family inside the house tried to hide. Legolas realized that the physical damage of the village itself was not the worst part of the ordeal, for many lives had been lost and many villagers had been ripped from the security of their homes and had been taken away to become somebody's slave. Lives had been changed forever, and all because someone held so little value for life that they would treat others as if they were no more than chattel – an object without thoughts or feelings.

There was a great sadness in Hope, for the trees had told the wood elf that it was so after he had heard them softly crying and had inquired as to the reason for their grief. They had spoken of the ugliness that had come to visit and when Legolas looked around him and looked passed the evidence of the loving and caring of the inhabitants of Hope, he saw what it was that was making the trees weep and what he saw with his heart angered him as he had not been angered in a very long while. He shook his head in disgust.

Halgar had understood his friend's pensive mood and had let him be, for he had been feeling the same anger and sadness at the wrongness and injustice of what had happened to these gentle people as well as to their homes and sense of security. He laid a hand on Legolas's arm, knowing that the tension of the moment needed to be broken.

"We must not lose ourselves to the anger, Legolas, for it would do nothing but cloud our minds and that, my friend, would not help anything – and I believe you understand this."

"Aye, Halgar, I do understand. I also vow that I will find the villagers and will do whatever I can to return them to their homes and lives - but for that, I will need Aragorn."

8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)

The human gently took the elf's arm and turned him away from the chaos of the village and began walking north, towards the cave.

"Come, my friend. It is time for you to meet our long-time guest."

When they reached the cave, whose entrance was truly hidden behind a tree, Halgar showed the elf the small wedge which if removed would cause many well placed rocks to tumble down from the small hill above and block the entrance. It was a simple mechanism, and one that would be easy to trip, especially if one was in a hurry and didn't have time to stop and do anything more elaborate.

Halgar paused at the entrance of the cave and bowed respectfully.

"My Lord, I am sorry for disturbing your rest, but I bring you a visitor. He is the heart-brother of your heir and wishes to see the place where you rest."

Having thus announced himself and Legolas, the two entered the cave and though Legolas abhorred caves as a general rule, he felt no such antipathy towards this one and, in fact, felt as if he had just stepped into someone's home. He immediately sensed the presence of Isildur's spirit and knew that he was in the presence of a great man. He bowed toward the casket that housed the physical remains and was saddened for he could feel in his heart that the great King was not at rest and would not be able to do so until the responsibility for him had been passed on to his heir.

Legolas looked around the cave, noticing that besides the entrance they had just walked through, there were two other possible entrances – one in the back of the cave that led to an undisclosed location, and a small "chimney" overhead that, at need, could be enlarged to make it possible for someone to descend through the chimney into the cavern below.

He squatted on his heels beside the casket that lay on a bier in the center of the small cavern and studied it closely. The wood was highly polished and well oiled to stave off the damage that long years could do to it in a place where there was little light and much dampness. All four sides were intricately carved and told the story of Isildur's life from the time he first set foot on the shores of Middle Earth until his death, the details of the pictogram having been carefully preserved, showed no evidence of the passing of time. Looking up, Legolas saw Halgar, a clean rag in one hand and a small bottle of oil in the other, diligently polishing the casket and when he saw his friend looking at him, he paused and shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry. Old habit."

He stopped what he was doing and after laying down the rag and oil, ran a hand lovingly over the casket.

"I know it is but a humble place for Isildur to rest, Legolas, but it was the best we could do for him."

Legolas put his hand on Halgar's shoulder.

"Halgar, I am sure that Isildur recognizes the honor and respect that you and your ancestors have shown him over the last 3,000 years. You may believe that this casket is but a humble representation of what he should have had, but just remember that it was made with respect and love and that makes it equal to the best casket even if that casket were made of gold. Besides, it is much more fitting than was the watery grave he had been sentenced to."

Halgar nodded for what the Prince had told him was the truth and he was sure that Isildur felt the same about his resting place – something in his heart told him that was so. He noticed that once again his friend was admiring the intricate carvings and detailed workmanship of the casket.

"Remember the old man with the cane that I introduced you to at his grave site?"

Legolas stood up and turned his attention to the human.

"Yes, I do. You called him Sirius."

Halgar smiled fondly at the memory as he ran his hand over the carvings.

"It was Sirius who made the casket and created the carvings to replace the one before it that had been deteriorating with age. He was much younger then and was not yet afflicted with the painful joints that later forced him to use a cane."

"It's too bad that Isildur couldn't be laid beside his father." Legolas mused. "Unfortunately, when he made the choice to keep the one ring, he completely destroyed the possibility of that ever happening."

The blonde elf was surprised when Halgar turned to him, eyes snapping in irritation.

"I mean you no disrespect Legolas, but you understand him as little as most other beings do, for Isildur was a great man whose courage and valor were unrivaled. He made a bad choice when he decided to keep the ring - we all know this - but the choice he made did not make him a bad or evil person in his heart. The will of the ring was too overpowering and forced him to make a bad choice and once that choice was made, he regretted what he had done but could do nothing about it."

Legolas tried to calm the human.

"Peace, Halgar. I meant no disrespect toward the King."

Halgar's shoulders slumped.

"I know, Legolas, and I apologize for speaking sharply to you. But it angers me when beings speak of Isildur as if he was a man totally bereft of honor or valor."

"Let me tell you a story about something the King did before he ever came to Middle Earth, Halgar. Maybe in the telling you will come to understand that there are more beings who understood Isildur than you realize."

Halgar leaned up against the wall of the cave to listen.

"This story takes place in Númenor, in a time before the Valar sank that place beneath the waters and concerns Amandil, father of Elendil the Tall and Grandfather of Isildur, and the deeds that Isildur did.

Though Sauron had turned those who lived in Númenor against the Valar and the Eldar, Amandil, councilor to the King, and his line, remained steadfast in their faith to both races.

When Sauron finally took up residence in the Palace, Tar-Pharazón dismissed Amandil from his position but because he was so noble, such a great Captain of the sea and was respected by so many people, neither Tar-Pharazón nor Sauron dared lay hands upon him as they wished in their black hearts that they could.

Now at this time, a white tree grew in the courtyard of the Palace of the King. His name was Nimloth the Fair, and had been gifted to the people of Númenor by the Eldar and was a memorial of the Eldar and of the light of Valinor. Nimloth came from a noble line for he was a seedling of Celeborn who was a seedling of Galathilion, who was an image of Telperion. When Sauron came in to favor with Tar-Pharazón, the reigning King, he urged the King to cut down Nimloth the Fair for Sauron hated the Eldar and to him, the tree was symbolic of the relationship the Eldar had with the people of Númenor.

At first the King refused, for he believed that the fortunes of his house were bound up with the tree for in a time before his own, Tar-Palantir, who had the gift of foresight, had said that when the tree perished, so would the line of the kings end.

Amandil, who had retired to Romena with the remnant of the faithful ones, knew that Sauron would eventually get his wish and the tree would be destroyed and so he called his family together and reminisced about the tree, its history and its meaning to the line of Kings. Isildur listened to his Grandfather and without telling anyone of his plans or intentions, left that night, in disguise, and went to the courts of the King in Armenelos which was now forbidden to the faithful and took a fruit from the tree.

But the Guard had been alerted and they attacked Isildur and almost killed him. He barely made it back to Romena and delivered the fruit into the hands of Amandil before he passed out from his wounds. The fruit was planted in secret and blessed by Amandil and a shoot rose from it and sprouted in the Spring.

But when its first leaf opened, Isildur, who had almost died, arose and was troubled no more by his wounds."

A small sound at the back of the cave caused both the elf and the man to jump for that showed how absorbed in the tale both had been and when a small squirrel scurried across the floor, chattering at them in annoyance, then went up the chimney and scurried away to its nest and probably its meal, both beings chuckled. Halgar turned to the Prince.

"I have one thing left to show you, Legolas."

He followed the human to the back of the chamber and watched as he unlatched a box and reached inside. When he turned around, he held a box that had a replica of the white tree carved in the top and when he opened it, Legolas couldn't help himself and gasped at what he saw.

"The Elendilmir." He said almost reverently.

"Yes, my friend. The token of the station of the King of Arnor and last worn by the King whose noble company we now keep."

A disturbance outside of the cave distracted them and thinking that it was Aragorn, both Halgar and Legolas left the dimmed light of the cave for the fresher air and brighter light outside. Both of them froze for it was not Aragorn that awaited them.

"Oh, crap." Halgar said.

"I think I would have to agree with you my friend." Was all that Legolas could think of to say.

TBC

8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)

Deana: Thank you for the review and thank you for the review in spite of the mess the chapter was in when it was posted. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

Padfoot's Pup: Poor Tilion ... He tries! LOL! I am glad you liked him. Thanks for the review. I never received it and was on-line trying to load the next chapter ... which isn't working again ... and I checked my stats and there you were. I'm glad I checked. Thanks for taking the time to read the last chapter. Hope you enjoy this one as well.