Discovery of Hope
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Aragorn let the cool night wind whip back hair from his face as Fëaear, his trusted stallion, followed Legolas' mare Mirwên out of Mirkwood and into the safety that lay past its borders. Nothing pursued the two, so after getting out of sight of the forbidding woods, Legolas slowed his horse to a trot, signaling for Aragorn to also let his horse ease out of the fast canter that had been needed to get out of danger. Estel moved up alongside the elf, letting himself relax into Fëaear's easy gait.
"We cannot travel to Imladris tonight, Estel," Legolas said, his crystal voice cutting through the silence. "Both of us are in need of rest. The battle with the spiders was tiring, even more so because it took place in the middle of the night when both of us were trying to get to sleep."
Aragorn took in what the elf was saying, running mental inventory of his body. The prince had been correct; now that the adrenaline from the fight had worn off, the human was exceedingly tired. He nodded his acceptance in what he assumed was his companion's general direction.
"Where do you propose we make camp?" he queried. The Ranger knew that exhaustion was dripping from his voice, but wasn't bothered to care. Any other time, he would have been loathe to show his weakness to one of the immortal beings, but for some reason, the son of Arathorn knew that he could trust the Mirkwood prince. His question was answered a moment later as Legolas shifted in his saddle, redirecting Mirwên slightly.
"There is a small river not very far ahead. By its bank is a large oak tree. The location is almost directly between Mirkwood and Imladris. That tree will keep us safe tonight."
Thranduilion knew that much of what he had just said had gone in one ear of his mortal companion and out the other, but also knew that Fëaear would follow Mirwên and Legolas without being told, so there was no reason to worry. Letting himself relax into his mare's saddle, Legolas took the time to study the adopted son of Elrond.
'What would make an Elven lord take in a mortal orphan?' Legolas wondered, not for the first time. 'He is strong, yes, and brave, but what about him is so special?' He let his eyes wander over the tired, bedraggled form, noting every tear in the hunter green tunic and every cut on the tanned skin. When his gaze reached Estel's hands, the prince's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. There, on the finger of a mere Ranger, was the Ring of Barahir.
'It can't be!' Legolas' mind protested, 'He is only a babe! This child cannot be the heir of Elendil!' There was no denying, however, the authenticity of the piece of jewelry adorning the man's finger. Somewhere deep in Legolas, despite the doubts his brain kept on throwing out, his instinct was telling him that what he was seeing was true. 'Elrond has always had a love for mortals. By keeping the child safe, he must feel as though he is making up for letting Isildur get away!'
Head reeling from the sudden revelation, the immortal didn't even notice that Mirwên had stopped until the horse reached her head around and nudged him in the leg. The prince again took notice of his surroundings and gave a relieved sigh, thankful that the pair had finally reached their destination. Dismounting swiftly, Legolas walked over to Fëaear and his rider. Having sympathy for the young human, the elf sighed and took the sleeping form in his arms, carrying him over to the large base of the tree and placing the body in the crook of two roots. Estel's body relaxed in sleep now that it was on a comfortable surface and he slipped further into the realm of dreams.
Legolas gazed down at the sleeping form for several minutes longer. He knew that he had been staring at his companion for a long time already, but couldn't seem to help himself. He had stumbled upon the rightful king of Gondor, a scrappy human who Legolas was looking after almost as a second nature. He, who had not felt an emotion other than grief since him mother's untimely death, cared about what happened to someone whom he had not yet known for even a full day. It was all too much and the night had gone by too quickly for him to really grasp the extent of what was happening. Pulling his eyes away from the Ranger, Legolas walked away to tend to the two patiently waiting horses.
Working with the animals served to tale Legolas' mind off of the previous hours and got rid of the last vestiges of fear and adrenaline left over from the spider attack. True, he was a veteran of many fights and skirmishes, but the fear that accompanied each new battle would forever strike even the most hardened of warriors. He let the tension ease from his muscles as he brushed Mirwên's flowing mane with a sigh of contentment. With a final pat on their necks, he left the horse grazing happily by the bank of the gurgling river. Legolas made his way back to the trunk and scaled it in the blink of an eye. The elf chose a broad branch and settle down with his back leaning against the smooth bark of the tree. Leaves rustled in the still night and Legolas smiled slightly for the first time in many months.
"Yes, old friend, I have returned. But it has been many a year since I played along these shores and rested against your roots. Belegnaur and Calanar have grown into people Mother would have been proud of." The branches of the old tree all moved in closer to the unhealthily thin form in what would have had to be considered an embrace. The prince's smile widened a fraction and with a small sigh, he added, "I can only hope that I have as well. But I know better."
The leaves stirred angrily, making Legolas shake his head slightly. "I have not continued in a way that she would have approved of. This trip away from familiar surroundings has opened my eyes. Out here, I can see things more clearly. I cut myself off from those merely trying to grieve with me. I did not continue living; part of myself died when Orcs attacked her party. I need to see the lord of Imladris to find healing for my mind. I need to recover the part of myself that was lost by moving on with my life.
She would not condone my actions, were she still alive. Maybe it was she who sent the mortal to meet me." Roots tightened around the young man's form and Legolas nodded. "Of course. Estel. In the common tongue, it means hope. My mother has sent me Hope." A genuine smile grew on his face, his cerulean eyes over bright. "My mother has sent me Hope..." Voice catching, Legolas broke off, wiping a few renegade tears off of his sunken cheeks and letting his head fall back against the trunk. The immortal let himself stare straight ahead as the branches closed protectively around him and the roots cradled Estel in their embrace. For the first time since his mother had been taken from him, Legolas slipped into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
A/N: As you can see in my profile, this is the story I am most focused on finishing, with the revamping of sequel, Friends Never Say Goodbye, coming in second. There is only one more chapter of this fic, which is currently being written in my head, so it should be up shortly.
Reviews:
Joshua Nenya: Well, at least one of us has time! School has just started here, and let me tell you, it makes me appreciate summer a whole lot more. I think that this chapter was significantly longer than the last one (at least on my Word document) so I hope it meets with your approval ! I'm glad you are enjoying the fic and hope you stick around to see the next chapter!
