A.N .
Time has slipped away from me again, RL getting in the way again.
I hope all who celebrate at this season had a good one and wish a hopeful and peaceful new year to those who have one coming up. To everyone stay safe and enjoy the pleasures your life offers you however small and simple they may be.
Thank you for reading this monster I hope it gives you a little of the small and simple pleasure.
As ever anything of any worth belongs to Tolkein, everything else belongs to whoever the law says it does, mainly not me, and I'm content.
Perspective
Their small company had spent this last day before turning towards home scouting around the land to the west of this, their most southerly camp, as they had the rest of the trip seeking out those places where the creatures of the Shadow had sheltered and assessing how the trees and other forest life were recovering. Each observation they carefully captured for later consideration by the King and his advisors, maps were drawn and sketches made and leaves and floweres were carefully gathered and preserved. Now, as the summer day showed the first signs of fading, they returned to their camp; for despite the fact that all seemed quiet and as well as could be expected they were still very aware of the strange silence of the trees and the land. It brought sadness and made them too uneasy to continue the work into the fading light of the late summer evenings.
The dark fortress was still many leagues to the south yet somehow the awareness of its presence had grown with every step taken as they had moved further south. At times it had seemed as if it loomed over them, watching and waiting for a slip on their part, any chink in their watchfulness, that would allow it to pounce and carry them off to the dark horrors that lay beneath its walls. Each day, before evening fell, each of them was glad to return to camp and settle beside a bright fire, even though the evenings remained warm.
This last day Legolas had lingered for a while amongst the trees when most returned to camp, even though they had been out since dawn, knowing that it was unlikey he would return this far south for some time. He wanted to take back as much information as he could to his father, both good and bad, and so he and a few others had spent a little extra time searching for animal tracks and assessing the quality of the water in the small streams that flowed out from the centre of the forest towards the lands to the west and the river. But as the sunlight took on the first tinges of dusk he and those who had remained with him with silent agreement made their way back to camp to join the others.
At the camp those who had returned earlier had finished recording their days activity and were engaged in a game of dice, their laughter welcoming their returning companions even before the camp came into sight. Legolas waived away an invitation to join the game with a smile and a claim of other chores waiting him. Having set down his bow and knives and stowed his days collections into his pack he retired to the fringes of the camp to write his daily journal, something he had done every day since they had crossed the mountains. In it he captured every thought that came to him about the state and mood of the forest, every sign of the the health of the trees he had noticed, every clue as to how the land was recovering or not. Where he felt the need he added small drawings of trees and flowers and some of the pressed leaves and flowers to illustrate his conclusions. This activity had taken up much of his time in camp, and sometimes hours that he might have spent in star gazing or rest, but he did not begrudge it for he was determined that he would not give any cause to complain of his actions in the field or for his inclusion in this party. Despite his growing ease around his fellow elves he still felt a faint fear that there remained those who would be quick to find fault with his conduct and he would not put his father to the trouble of having to defend him once again if any effort of his could avoid it.
Finally as the sun slipped towards the edge of the horizon and early dusk began to claim the sky he decided he could add nothing more of any use and laid aside his pen, binding the book with a leather thong before wrapping it in the waxed bag he had brought for the purpose. That done he returned to his bedroll and slipped it into the pocket in his cloak that was designed to hold it. Then he called the group together and set the watches for the evening, allocating himself the third watch, before setting out with a few of the others to search for early nuts or, if they were lucky, some mushrooms and green herbs to supplement the evening meal.
Away from the camp he felt the sense of unease take him again, as if the shadow of Dol Guldar might steal upon them as the light faded. Yet the forest seemed benign enough and the air was still alive with the hum of insects and the chatter of birds. He smiled as he saw a patch of young dandelions, the light still strong enough to show the leaves a bright and vivid green, and he bent to collect them muttering a thank you to the parent plant for such bounty and being careful to leave a good handful of leaves untouched.
Straightening he looked around him, still aware of a prickle of wariness unnecessary though it seemed. The occassional rustle in the undergrown told him he was not alone, but there were no sounds of occupation by any other than the wild residents. Certainly nothing to suggest spider or orc. There were no settlements here any longer, neither elf nor woodsman called this place home now, nor had they done so for many centuries of men. No mannish voices would be heard nor would firesmoke from any homestead drift upon the warm summer air. Nor were there any glades that might provide a place for feasting elves, and the elves themselves had long ago withdrawn north to find safety around his father Halls.
This last day had shown again how alone the forest had been in the years since Dol Guldar was taken by evil for no sign of the once thriving villages remained, occasionally a tumble of stone beneath their feet marked where once a store or wall or a path had been but most of the habitations of both elf and man had been timber and had long returned to the forest. Those who had lingered here, or wandered here through bravado or by accident, had fallen victim to the Necromancer and his minions, and while their fate was unknown few thought it could be anything other than dire. Not that any elves of Thranduil's kingdom had been lost in such a manner for the king had been strict in his prohibition, and once they had withdrawn north none had returned here until their small party arrived. Even they were bound by the King's dictat and while he had permitted this survey it had been made very clear that he had misgivings about allowing any so close to an unknown danger and he had impressed upon them that they should stay well clear of the dark fortress. Yet he had also made it clear that they must learn as much as they could for another opportunity might not present itself should any presence of the enemy be detected.
In places the signs of the Necromancer and his creatures were still clear enough to see, and the remnants of spider nests remained though the occupants appeared to have fled as they had done in the north. So far there had been nothing to suggest that danger still lurked here, there was no sign of orc or warg, not even of wild wolf; no spider had been seen and the nests they had enountered were empty of eggs or spiderlings and most seemed as tattered as they did in the mountains and the lands further north. Certainly the storms of winter had played a part in this and many webs were ripped by ice and wind, broken and swaying in any breeze that managed to move beneath the trees, even so the remaining threads were still sticky and burning to the touch.
The land around this last camp had been a place where many spiders were believed to have clustered, driving out both elf and woodsmen and it was true that the remnants of the many webs had clustered thickly here. More of them here than in the lands around his fathers Halls but not enough to suggest that this was their spawning ground, and they were still half a cycle of the moon or more of travel from Dul Guldar. But all were empty now, just as they had been further north.
The king had said that the forest mind told him the trees were recovering and the venom of the shadow was almost gone, and it was true that the grass grew green again and the trees bore full leaf and there was no sign of sickness about them, other than that sourness in their fruit. Yet there remained a sense of being at best visitors, and maybe not welcome ones. Perhaps the sense of seperation from the forest they all felt was nothing more than the lingering caution of a forest that would no longer trust, one that had seen much darkness and was not yet sure it had departed for good. One that was unsure of their motivations even as it recognised them as elves. For though healing was coming to the southern lands of Greenwood it had not yet removed all traces of its wretched past.
If his father was right these trees of the south were justified in their reluctance to welome the elves back to the forest for they must also fear that the evil may yet return, just as they had done. Nor could any promise that it '. All that could be hoped for was that the evil one himself would not, but there could be no certainty of that for he was both wily and spiteful and may yet find that Mordor did not offer the fortress or the other advantages that he sought. Even if it did he might yet find other uses for Dul Guldar.
But not yet. There was no shadow lying across this land now, and they had seen nothing to suggest that these tattered webs were being repaired, nor that new nests were being built. It seemed that the spawn of Ugoliant had scuttled off somewhere else, though there was no signs of when and where. Legolas frowned as he looked around him, that of all things worried him for he could not imagine where they had gone or how they had gone. Where was there for them to go? Nowhere that he could see. The brown lands to the south and the empty lands to the west between the forest and the river offered no possibility of a home or prey for them and no word had come from Celeborn to suggest that they had tried to cross that way. The lands east, towards the River Running was wide and open and his father would have heard word from his spies that they had ventured there. Where did that leave? Just the ground beneath their feet and they would find no prey there to sustain them. Even so it was uncomfortable to think that they may yet lie buried beneath the forest, still living, still waiting and watching. He shivered and pushed the thought away as a pointless fancy not worthy of further thought and turned his mind to other matters.
He scanned the glade around him for any signs of other additions for the pot and seeing nothing he moved on, his thoughts still wandering, memories rising up again even as his eyes searched the ground. His thoughts once more straying down old and barren pathways, back to Tauriel.
How could he ever have thought her right in her wishes to come south in the days of shadow? Even with a full host and travelling on the flat land to the west or east the chances of enough of them surviving to reach that evil place to be able to battle them would always have been slim. Every orc and goblin in the misty mountains would have known of their journey and been on their heels before they reached the path to the west. His father had been right they could never have spared a host large enough to have a chance of success without leaving their home woods dangerously unprotected, and even then the likihood of clearing the evil out would have been small. More than that their losses would have been truly terrible. No wonder Mithrandir had wondered at Tauriel's desire to venture south, at her conviction that they could have done anything to cleanse this part of the forest whilst the Necromancer, Sauron he reminded himself, had been within Dol Guldur. He looked around him at the close packed ranks of trees and remembered the dark brooding evil of the fortress he had spent so many days and nights staring at, no there could be no doubt that few would have returned and many would have been lost to the horrors of the pits of that terrible place.
They could only be glad that their king had more wisdom than Tauriel, more wisdom than his son had then, for he feared that she would have persuaded him to her way of thinking had she been given the time and opportunity. Legolas shuddered at the very thought of it. His guilt had been great enough, almost crushing, after the battle before Erebor and how much heavier would the load have been had he supported any such an action? No, he was sure now that he could not have borne it had he played any part in bringing such a fate down upon his people and his comrades.
Had he been amongst the surviours that was, and there was no certainty that he would have been for none knew the powers of the Necromancer even if he had not yet been Sauron truly reborn.
He looked towards the south, his hands curling into fists as the realisation came to him that had his father been less clear sighted, that might have been his fate, his blood feeding the spiders or, worse still, torment and madness in the Dark Lords dungeons. He shivered and pushed the thought away, it had not happened and now would not do so. One thing that he could view with satisfaction was that he had learned a valuable lesson, that what seemed the right thing to do at any given moment was not always so. Certainly not when it was the lives of others that you risked.
He felt a tug of old despair and resolutely swashed the thoughts turning his attention back to searching for food. He smiled, his spirits rising, as he caught sight of a large patch of mushrooms, their pearly caps glowing in the fading light, it was a flat headed variety that were one of his favourites. A number of these he added to his bag and with a bow and muttered thanks to those he left behind he moved on again, this time back towards the camp site for the evening was now starting to show in the sky and the light was fading. Pausing only to add a few handfuls of wild damson he spotted still hanging from a bough and a few more of hazel nuts, he made his way swiftly back towards the camp site, quickening his pace as he caught the smell of smoke drifting on the air signifying that the cooking fires were lit.
He arrived back at much the same time as those he had left with and they joined the other returning forage parties to lay out their finds and discuss what manner of meal to make with them. His mushrooms and damsons were particularly warmly received as were a good haul of beech nuts and a large portion of sweet late summer berries. A lively discussion followed as to how best to combine their bounty and Legolas smiled to himself at the normality of it, it was as if Erbor had never happened and he was the elf he had been before Thorin had breached their borders. The elf he had been back when Tauriel had been a surrogate sister just starting to make her way amongst the guard. Before he had become a stranger to himself.
With a feeling of grateful relief that such matters were in the past he joined those seeking more fallen wood to feed the fire. By the time they returned the first watch was on guard and the cooking pots had made an appearance; for the moment there was nothing for him to do.
To his left there was a tall red pine, old and well grown, its head swaying above the canopy of oak and beech, and he made his way quickly to its base laying his hand on the trunk and asking that he be allowed to climb. The tree was quiet for a moment and he thought perhaps he would receive no answer but them a faint whisper and a slight warming of the bark beneath his fingertips gave him his answer and with a heatfelt thanks he began to ascend, not surprised when one or two others followed his lead.
At the top of the tree he settled himself comfortably and turned his eyes once more towards the south. At this distance not even elven sight allowed for any glimpse of the fortress but he could see Greenwood stretching out before him in a carpet of greens and reds and butter yellow rippled with the deep greens of yew and holly. It darkened further to the south where the beeches and oaks were largely replaced by pine and firs. As far as he could judge that part of the forest was also recovering but as they were still some considerable way from the most northern edge of Lothlorien there was no way to be sure that the forest in the furthest south was returning to itself. Only the Galadrim could tell them that and word from them was rare and brief. Lothlorien itself and its people had long since withdrawn from the world, even from their kin. Diplomatic connections were maintained between the two Realms but even in the days of Oropher's rule, before the coming of the Necromancer, the Lady had not favoured regular discourse between them and visits had been infrequent, so his father said. Even though their Halls had been much further south then. Now information from that Realm was infrequent and sparse, and like his own father only dire necessity caused the Lord of the Golden Wood to send his people beyond their borders. As with Imladris winged messengers were the normal way of communication but the need to cross the shadowed areas of the forest meant that fewer managed to deliver their messages.
He turned his head and looked west towards the mountains seeing the last rays of the sun glimmer red on the Gladden river, casting shadows over the bright green of the Gladden Fields. The land towards the river was rough plains land now and grazed only by wild horses and the occasional herds of deer. These timerous and wary creatures were were slowly returning to nibble at the edges of the forest, the more venturesome stepping carefully into the shadow of the trees at the edges of the forest, drawn by the scent of new grass and leaf and the absence of the scent of warg and spider.
Their party had seen several small groups on their scouting trips but the elves had left them alone, honouring the kings prohibition on hunting here and content to watch them as they grazed in what glades there were and count the number of young amongst them. They all knew that these deer were doing them a service for in time they would eat back the undergrowth, opening up new paths and making moving through the forest easier. Something that would be needed before they could move any settlements here again. If that time came.
His eyes moved back towards the shimmer of the Gladden Fields, and he sighed. No elf could look upon that place without a pang of sorrow for the many who had died there and the loss that had followed, a loss that echoed across the years and brought further misery upon so many. It was before he had been begotten but his father could recall the day the King of the Men of the West and the Ring was lost in those fields, and Legolas had heard the story many times. How his father had been warned by woodsmen that a great company of Men was being attacked by Orc and how he had ridden out with a host to aid them. But it had already been too late and they had been able to save none. Thranduils Halls had been further south in those days but still too far north for them to arrive in time, for even as the call for help arrived the battle of the Gladden fields was over and all chance of changing the world was lost. Thranduil had arrived to find the king lost and his sons slaughtered along with his host. A large company of the Men of the West had perished that day, the sons of Isildor along with many of their most noble captains, and all the elves had able to do was prevent the descration of most of the fallen.
Of the king himself there had been no sign for he was not amongst the dead and though they had searched for many days there was no trace of him. Nor had the ring he had taken from Sauron's hand been found, the ring he had refused to destroy, and because of that the shadow of that ring still hung over all the world. His fathers face would become sad and grave as he told of how they had searched the field for any who lived, of the despair he had felt on finding the greatest of Isidur's sons amongst the dead for in that moment he had known that the line of the Men of the West was lost and the glory that Isildur had sought had come to ash. He had known that day that there would be no more alliance between Men and Elves, that there would be none to ally with. Thranduil believed that Sauron would rise again even then and in that moment he had understood that there may be no force left to oppose him when he did.
It had been a truly bitter day. For as he looked across the fields of slaughter Thranduil had also understood that the decline of the Men of the West was now inevitable and faced with that the Noldor elves would leave Arda for the Undying Lands in large numbers rather than fight the shadow of evil again. His own people and any other elves that remained would be left with no allies, no support and no defence other than those they could mount for themselves. It was in that moment that he swore he would not abandon them, that he would not travel west until Sauron was defeated or until they chose to leave their beloved woods and Vales. If that meant his death then so be it, if that meant he must become a great and powerful king to protect them then that was what he would become, if that meant he could not show weakness nor grant unearned trust then that was how it had to be. Isildur had condemned the world to fear and Thranduil would do all in his power to be his peoples bulward against it.
His father had often used the slaughter at the Gladden Fields as a lesson on hubris and the long shadows a single foolish act could cast. When Legolas had grown older and was entering into the defence of their lands his father had told him how he had railed that day against men and their foolish kings and sworn that he would always place the needs of his Realm before all others, and before his own desires, for had Isildur done that then the world would have known peace for all of the third age. Had Isildur done that then Legolas would never have had to take the bow and knife into battle and the only blood he would ever have shed would have been in the hunt.
Legolas sighed as he stared at the distant battlefield. How different the world would have been had the line of Men held true, had Isildur done as sense demanded. His mouth set in a thin line as his thoughts darkened, or had Elrond ensured that he had. But the mortal king had not and Elrond had not and all of Middle Earth had paid the price, and perhaps even the lands further south and east. Sometimes he had wondered how his father had been able to forgive that, loosing his own father in the battle only to have the one thing that might have given meaning to that loss squandered. Now he must face the possibility of fighting Sauron again, yet more of their people might die, and all because Elrond had feared a rift with his brothers mortal line and allowed Isildur to leave Dagolad with the Ring.
Legolas smiled grimly, each time he had heard the story he had wondered how the inheritor of Gil-Galads refuge had felt as he had looked across those fields at the piles of the dead, mortal and Orc, and known that the day would come when the ring he had allowed to survive would seek to set the world aflame again. His father had never been forthcoming on the matter. Now he wondered again. Like Thranduil Elrond had seen much and was not one to show his thoughts to others, but when they discovered that the Necromancer had indeed been Sauron then surely that day on the Dagorlad must have risen up to haunt him, if it had ever ceased to do so.
He sighed and leaned back against the tree. When his father had first told him the story of the Gladden fields he had not truly understood the enormity of the tale and though he had grieved for his father's evident distress at the matter he had not thought it of such importance. Now... Ai now it was different. Now he understood very well the pain and rage in his fathers eyes when he spoke of those days searching for the lost king of Gondor and Arnor. Now, if truth was told, he shared his father irritation and anger, and though he had found Elrond's foster son a charming and intelligent youth he had needed to remind himself that the boy wasn't accountable for Isildur's sins on more than one occasion during his visit.
The thought brought a sudden recollection of Estel to him and he felt a welling up of pity for the youth. Bitter it would be when he discovered the truth of his name and line, a heavy load for one so young, and Elrond would not be able to keep him in ignorance for much longer. Legolas sighed, for most of the line of men the evil deeds of the past had become nothing more than stories and legend, easily set aside or forgotten, but Estel had lived amongst elves for much of his short life and knew the true meaning of long ago deeds. Elves remembered such things, indeed some he grew up with would have lived those days, and he would have heard the stories many times in his life. It would cut him deeply when the truth was revealed
Looking at the remanants of the destruction wrought upon the forest around him by the same enemy that created the Ring, at the grey soil and piles of blackened leaves gathered around bush and tree roots, foliage that had probably never been green, a sudden anger shook him. It had not only been Isildur's hubris that had caused the forests pain, or that might yet mire the world in blood and pain once more, but Elrond's too.
But as quickly as it rose the anger fell back again, the Lord of Imladris had made a mistake it was true, had set affection above the greater good perhaps, but if he was honest had he not done the same in Dale? Perhaps not with the same consequences, but he had not weighted the possible outcome of his actions against his desire to aid Tauriel and he could not be sure that he would have done it differently had those consequences had the power to shake the world. At least not then. Now? He sent up a silent prayer that he had learned enough not to err in such a manner again, that at least he would truly consider the full implications of his actions before he committed to them.
Pushing the thought away he turned his eyes back towards the view of the Gladden River and the fields beyond it. He could just make out the faint shadow of the outer edge of Lothlorien, there the seasons passed without change protected by something he could only guess at, a similar something to that which protected Imladris. Ironic that having allowed the Ring to escape destruction Elrond and his kin lived in blessed peace protected from the consequences of his actions. Not for the first time he wondered what life would be like in his father's Realm had they such protection. Certainly the spawn of Ugoliant would have been more circumspect, had they even entered the forest at all. Yet he could not disagree with his father's view that such protection brought its own dangers and who could say if they would have proved to be greater than the benefits.
No, there was no point in speculating about what could not be, and yet some flicker of anger still rippled through his mind as his eyes traced the edge of the Golden Wood from where Celeborn's folk maintained a watch upon the Dark Tower. Perhaps one day they could all could relax their watchfulness and he could go to visit his more southerly kin. He could but hope so, he was curious to see the Lady and her Lord for Celeborn was known as one of the wisest elves remaining in Ardar, an elf whose experience and knowledge of both good and evil in the world rivalled his own father's. Elrond might be the better versed in Lore but Celeborn outstripped him in understanding of evil and of the heart and minds of elf and men, as, in Legolas's view, did Thranduil.
"I am glad we did not venture where when the evil still hung upon it. It must have been a dire place indeed and I do not think my heart could have borne the sorrow of seeing it so twisted and tormented. The King's decision spared us that, a wise kindness."
The voice was that of Gaildor an elf Legolas had grown up with and one of those who had been wary of him on his return, not suprising given that he had been amongst the companies fighting in the streets of Dale. One of those that Legolas might well have passed and left unaided in his determination to assist Tauriel. He blinked the thought away as he looked towards him meeting the dark eyes without hesitation, feeling a thankful gladness that there was no longer any condemntation in the others expression. He smiled and inclined his head.
"Aye, I too am grateful that I didn't see it at its darkest. It was as you say a wise decision on the King's part, for that and other reasons," he replied softly."And I, it was so beautiful once and the trees nearly danced in their joy. To see it even now, so weary and fearful, hurts me more than I can say."
The third voice was that of Tinnunir an elf who Legolas knew had once lived in settlements not far from their campsite. Legolas looked towards him with a sad smile.
"This was the land of your begetting was it not? It must be hard indeed to return to a homeland still injured. It is hard enough for one such as I who never knew it before the coming of the Shadow."
Tinnunir nodded.
"It is, my family was amongst the last to leave and by that time it was already too dangerous to hunt or wander far from our settlement. I recall well the day your father and a host came to see us north, I was barely past my majority but I could see the pain in his face as he stood with elders of our community and watched over us as we packed the last of our belonging. A hurt for both us and the forest we had to leave behind."
Tinnunir looked around him.
"We had to leave much else behind too, for the deepening shadow meant that it was necessary to travel swiftly even with your fathers protection and there was no room to take all that we might have wished to."
He smiled sadly at Legolas.
"Do not think I complain or that we went without. The King was most generous to us and saw that all our needs were met on the journey and once we reached his Halls, but there are somethings that can never be replaced or regained." He sighed, "But we left with our lives and our memories intact. Many of the woodsmen refused to move with us, why I do not know, but they paid a bitter price for that choice."
Legolas turned is eyes back towards Gladden and nodded, they had all heard tales of the fate of those Woodsmen and the many remanants of burned wood they had come across on this trip bore testimoney to the truth of the stories. He could only be glad for himself and the elves beside him that his father had more wisdom than Tauriel, more wisdom than his son had then and spared them any further losses.
He was recalled from his thoughts by Gaildor's voice again.
"Had the King of the Men of the West shown such wisdom the story of this Age might have been much different."
Legolas looked towards him and saw that his eyes were also fixed on the Gladden Fields as he continued in a thoughtful tone.
"How bitter Isidure's last hours must have been, to know the destruction he had brought upon his host, and upon his son's."
"Aye, to know too that the results of his deeds would ripple out to all his Realm," Tinnunir added. "perhaps he did not realise that he was condeming them to that fate that befell them, yet he must have had some sense of the destruction his actions could bring about. How great must his regret have been, how loaded with sorrow his steps as he fled."
Gaildor nodded.
"Indeed, few can have come to so fell a fate and known it to be fully their own fault. Many make mistakes and for many reasons, including some that may seem for the best at the moment of the decision, but few condemn the world by them. Yet I wonder, would he have seen it so if he had escaped? No doubt he would have grieved, not least for his lost sons, yet would he have shouldered the blame for what befell them? Many regret their poor choices yet those who commit the greatest sins seem the most able to find excuses for them."
There was a momentary pause and Legolas wondered if that remark was for his benefit and what he should say to it. But when Gaildor continued it seemed that his mind was fully on the Gladden fields and Isildur.
"Yet perhaps he did not see the danger," he said in a musing tone, "when he began his march from Gondor perhaps he had no thought for the dangers that might face him, no sense of them. Perhaps he believed the ring was impotent without its creator, or that as its new bearer it would protect him, or at least convinced himself that was so."
"Aye perhaps that was the case." Tinnunir responded. "He was a mortal after all and though well on in his life by the tally of men he would have been but a child to us. That is always the case, how much wisdom can they accrue in the span alotted to them? Little enough I venture. Man of the West he may have been, with a life longer than most mortals, but his span of years was brief for all of that. Too brief for the necessary foresight and wisdom perhaps. Nor would he have had the connection with the world that an elf would have to warn him of the poisonous effect of the thing and its ability to twist the sight of the one who wore it."
Gaildor nodded slowly.
"Yes, even the Men of the West with their lineage were blind to much that is obvious to an elf. They call our knowing magic and wonder at it. Their blindness leads them into much evil, even when they think that they mean good."
"Elves are not immune from such errors." Legolas said softly.
Gaildor gave him a long look and there was a knowing sympathy in his eyes, then he smiled.
"That is true, I doubt any being other than the One is." He shook his head, "Certainly elves have also erred where the Ring is concerned; some would say Lord Elrond's error in this matter was also grave."
Tinnunir nodded his agreement.
"Yes, nor is the Ring the only thing to lead elves astray. Many would see the son's of Feanor crimes as more than equal to that of Isildur, when they swore the Oath that led them to Kinslaying. Most would see Feanor's crimes as of much greater evil."
He looked at Legolas and there was the same understanding in his look as there had been in Gaildor's and his voice was soft and kind.
"But few elves transgress in that degree or with such intent, and the errors we do make must be kept in some perspective. To overstate ones errors, and to hang on to them when their time is past, is both selfish and foolish for it gives them an importance that they may not deserve. To err itself is something all are likely to do, to risk the world is thankfully not. Even in Isildur's case the Ring was no doubt the greater sinner using his weakness against him in a way he did not understand or intend. Perhaps he thought that he could wield the Ring and use it for good, for evil may well come in by the door of intended good."
Legolas felt a sense of warmth envelope him, understanding the message being given to him.
"Indeed it may." He responded softly.
Gaildor smiled at him before he shrugged his eyes going back to where the Gladden fields were turning to shadow in the failing light.
" There can be no doubt that he should have destroyed it, and if he did not then he should have locked it away somewhere it could not be reached. Most of all he should not have carried it with him for that was to invite such disaster as befell them. No doubt it whispered to him and he listened. I know nothing of the Halls Eru sets aside for men but I hope that in end he finds peace."
Legolas drew a deep breath, his eyes also turning back towards the Gladden Fields.
"I too. Let us hope that none of us are tested in such a manner. Could any of us be sure that we would pass the test, or even see it for what it is?" He said softly.
A call behind them summoned them to eat and they put all thoughts of the Gladden Fields and its lessons and sorrows aside as they exchanged smiles of satisfaction and hurried down and towards the welcoming aroma of their meal.
