Chapter 12
"KILLED? What do you mean killed?"
Legolas sighed, rolling his eyes. "Estel, please calm down-"
"CALM DOWN? Calm down? How can you tell me to calm down?!" said Estel, carefully putting his empty bowl aside and jumping out of the hammock, raising his arms up and standing before the elf. "We're basically in the house of a MURDERER!"
"Technically-"
"Oh, are you saying he technically wasn't a murderer? How do you expect for it to happen then, huh? Do you think the elf was simply, 'Oh, here is a nice knife, let me take a nice stroll in the woods' and KABOOM! He accidentally trips over a branch and stabs another elf. 'Oops, what an accident!' I bet-" said Estel sarcastically waving his arms before he was interrupted sternly by Legolas as he covered his mouth.
"Be quiet!" he hissed and then sighed. "Who knows how far he is? Do you forget we have special elven hearing? Besides...it wasn't his fault. You would've killed people as well if you were possessed."
"Possessed?" frowned Estel, suddenly interested. He lowered his voice. "By what?"
"By rabbits, Estel...NO! It was sarcasm!" said Legolas as he watched Estel's frown deepen. "Seriously, you ask some of the most dense questions. He was possessed by a Thangorodrim spirit. Very vicious things. They are almost invisible (it's a long story) and they choose to reside in physical bodies. Usually, they'd take forms in human, since they're spiritually weaker than elves but still pretty strong to do actions. But since Silad was injured...well, I guess even good luck happens to evil spirits."
"Oh of course, because I obviously know that Thangorodrim spirits exist!" said Estel rolling his eyes. "So let me guess, you befriended him? Seriously, I think you have a problem. Murderers, trees...next time you're going to tell me you're friends with a dwarf."
Estel's history was rusty. After all, almost everything Erestor was talk and talk, so you naturally could get pretty sleepy. But then Estel was pretty interested in the War of the Wrath and Earendil, so he occasionally heard stuff. Thangorodrim had been three volcanic mountains in the Iron Mountains, where Morgoth used to have his compound. It was completely destroyed in the War of the Wrath...but some creatures might've escaped, so it was possible.
"Please, I'm not that clueless," said Legolas rolling his eyes. "Besides...I didn't exactly befriend him. Normally, kin-slaying would result in death and yes, everything was against him. All witnesses, all proof, all victims. He only had a few elves on his side..."
"And you were one of them?"
"Naturally. He kind of owns me a favor. Silad might look tough right now, but he's actually a little gentle nature lover. He doesn't even want to touch the grass because he is afraid that he is 'hurting their feelings' and doesn't want to smash them. If someone was that gentle about grass, there is no way he could've killed an elf."
"So they lightened up his punishment?"
"Eventually. I happen to be very persuasive," smirked Legolas. "Anyways, instead of killed he was banished. For all eternity, no matter what good he did. He was not to step in any of the three elven kingdoms nor speak to anybody...unless anybody wanted to talk to him, which was not really possible. I mean, other than us right now of course. He was shunned and he left with his head hung low, as a killer."
For a moment, Estel was quiet and he internally gulped. It would be terrible if he wasn't allowed to any elven kingdom. If he couldn't see his father or the twins or his mother or Erestor or Glorfindel...that was horrible. And this was an eternal punishment. Estel unconsciously reminded himself not to kill anybody. He didn't want to end up as some lonely old man in a wood cabin at the edge of Fangorn for the rest of his life.
"That is a horrible way to be remembered," said Estel. "But...you eventually proved that he was possessed, right? So he was technically innocent, why did the accusations continued?"
"Things just don't work out like that Estel. You know what some people say, 'justice is blind.' And...it often is. Justice is fair but sometimes it targets the wrong people. Even though Silad was being possessed, his body still killed all those elves. The families of the victims will never forget that, Estel. Imagine if someone killed one of the ones you love and then was proved innocent...would you be able to accept that?" asked Legolas, going into the kitchen to make himself some tea.
Estel sat back in his hammock and thought a while. If anybody killed his mother, or hsi father or the twins or Glorfindel or Erestor...he'd do his best to hunt them down and make sure they suffered. Then he whispered, "Not really."
"Exactly," said Legolas, boiling some water and sitting in another bar stool from across the room. "Some people just don't want to accept the harsh reality of losing someone because it causes them pain. But they haven't really thought of how much it hurts the assassin, especially one who is technically innocent. It can be mentally shocking."
"Have you lost anybody before...I mean, other than your mother?" asked Estel and immediately regreted it as the curious words went out of his mouth and he saw Legolas stand up, his spine straight and rigid.
"Y-Yes," said Legolas. He sounded calm but Estel could tell the voice showed hints of crumbling. "I've lost a couple of friends." Then his blond head looked down at the floor, in shame. "Best friends. They died protecting me."
"It's not your fault...probably some stupid orc with a deformed face. I mean, that's what they all are, aren't they?" said Estel. He had never been particularly good with apologies...but his father had always told him that kindness and pity aren't the only ways to give a person comfort. Humour worked pretty well too...and with Estel's sarcasm, it worked effectively and he saw the sides of Legolas' face move, possibly into a small sad smile.
"That's what they tell me...but sometimes, I wonder if things could've been different. If only I had been more careful. More aware. More ready. What if I had been all that? Would they have still died or would they still be here today? I-I can't help wonder that sometimes," said Legolas.
"'If' is a possibility. Why would you aim for doubt, if you can have certainty?" whispered Estel quietly to himself, quoting something his foster father had told him one day. He started swinging himself with the hammock, as if it were the makeshift wooden swing the twins had made for him and suddenly, Legolas whipped his head behind him to look at Estel.
"What was that?"
"Um, nothing. Just something my Ada told me. 'If' is a possibility. Why would you aim for doubt if you can have certainty?" said Estel. "He's always dropping all these weird, spiritual sorts of advice for me. It's strange but it's really interesting to uncover what they mean...although it can be frustrating sometimes."
"I wish my father had dropped weird, spiritual advice for me. His advice usually involved some kind of stick," snorted Legolas as he dropped what seemed some herbs into the boiled water, mixing them with what seemed to be a spoon. He waved it around, mimicking a new voice. "Legolas, you idiotic fool of an elfling! Why can't you get something as simple as four times four? You have a brain as dense as a rock! So dense, that it'd probably crack open a dumb naugrim's skull!"
Estel burst out chuckling. "Four times four? You seriously did not know that?"
"Well, don't judge me! I got confused sometimes, I was always a latebloomer when it came to arithmetics," stated Legolas, as he plunged the spoon once again into the tea. "So, what does it mean? Your father's 'weird, spiritual' advice?"
"Er...I'm not entirely sure. Sometimes his advice has multiple meanings. I do kind of remember though. Apparently, he says that you shouldn't use 'if,' because you use 'if' when you're talking about the past. About changes you could've made. But really, you can't go into the past. You have to learn from it instead. Because if you continue doubting from your errors, you will never be able to permanently gain anything from them. Or something like that. It usually sounds wiser when he says it," said Estel.
"Hmm...it does seem wise. How do you think that applies to my mistakes?" asked Legolas curiously.
Was-Was Legolas asking him for advice? Estel frowned but leaned back in the hammock, which was swinging him back and forth, thinking critically. "I'm not sure. If my father were here, I think he'd say that you shouldn't blame yourself for your erm, friends' deaths. If they died for you, they probably had a good reason to. Besides, I think you have better things to remember then their deaths. Like, say, good memories. You must have spent some good times with them, yes? Then cherish their lives, instead of grieving for them. For it is better to remember people in happiness than to find pain in their leaving. Learn to cherish your other friends and protect them with just as much devotion as they do to you."
Legolas turned back, quizzically staring at the boy but then his face cracked into a real big smile, his eyes twinkling strangely. "Well, for an annoying little human, you do seem to have a lot of wisdom lodged inside of that empty nutshell you call a brain."
"What did you say, you-?!" Estel was about to snap before he watched as a flame stretched out and curled around one of Legolas' fingers. "FIRE!"
"FIRE?! WHERE? WHERE? WHERE?" said Legolas, jumping around frantically and then he realized his finger was burning and then he let out an awfully hilarious, feminine-like shriek as he tried to blow it out. He tried wiping the fire out of his finger but he only made things worse, setting his tunic on fire. Growing more frantic, he threw himself on the floor, much to Estel's humour, and started rolling back and forth, letting out some pretty strange whooping noises and...some censored-worthy words.
Silad burst in, his long silver hair flowing in the wind. He was carrying a pile of dry twigs on his shoulder but he immediately dropped these, closing the door behind them and rushing forward to his kitchen. He watched, raising one eyebrow, as Legolas continued emiting the strange noises and finally put out the fire. The blond elf quickly dusted himself, standing up and glaring at the silver-haired elf. He was about four inches shorter than Silad, which pleased Estel.
"Some help would've been useful!" he exclaimed.
"Ha, no thank you. Wouldn't be worth my trouble. Thank Valar it was your tunic instead of my house," said Silad snorting, as he turned his heels and headed to pick up his fallen twigs.
"You came pretty quickly from gathering wood, oh-so honorable Master of Humility," pointed out Legolas as he finished boiling his tea and poured three cups. He carried them all into a makeshift wooden table and gave one to Estel, one to himself and left the other one in the table for Silad to get on his own.
"Well, that is one of the perks of living at the edge of a forest, Thranduilion," replied Silad, heading towards his fireplace and dumping some of the twigs there. "Besides, it did take me a while, cleansing orc bodies is a pretty tedious task."
Estel shot Legolas a smug look, as he heard the 'forest' statement. Legolas met his eyes and then glared back, as if to say, 'Don't you dare say a thing.'
"But yes, I suppose I did return a bit early," continued Silad, sitting down next to them cross-legged, grabbing his tea. "As far as I know you, you probably still have the same stubborn idea in your brain. You still want to try to infiltrate that two hundred orc-strong fortress just to get a dumb map. And I am here to stop you from your imminent death-"
"WHOA! Wait just a minute," said Estel, glaring at the elf. "Don't you DARE tell me all of this MADNESS and TROUBLE was for one, stupid little map?"
Legolas sighed, looking at them both with sober blue eyes. He set his tea cup aside and explained, putting his hands out, urging Estel to sit down, which he did. Then, he spoke:
"It's not just any map, Estel. It's one of the rare copies of each and every one of our military defenses. It shows every inch of the fortress along with tiny notes scribbled in the sides. Tactics, battle strategies, types of weapons, the important generals, patrol schedules...and secret rooms," whispered Legolas eerily. "There are three of these maps. One of them is in the king's posession, the other two are in other generals' possesions. One of them was recently ambushed weeks ago and they took his map away."
"Why does this matter?" asked Estel, although he immediately felt stupid as they both stared at him with incredulous positions. However, instead of Legolas answering, Silad spoke.
"Orcs have been targeting Mirkwood for years. As the largest elven territory, they could gain a great power if they took over it. Such an advantage would give them the chance they have been waiting for centuries. And if they do manage to create a siege, chaos could erupt. Mirkwood would fall and turn into ruins. The warriors of Mirkwood, known to be one of the best, would be enslaved and forced to fight for the enemy. Women and children would be treated with unhumane conditions."
Legolas nodded in agreement, as if he expected that the ten year old boy understood the seriousness of the situation. "Yes. It happened once already. My people escaped unharmed, most of them. We suffered great casualties and taught us better though. We have been rebuilding our forces to make sure it never happened again...but with the map in their hands, they will know our every move and that is a foreshadowing of our doom."
"Wait, why would the elf take that map with him, if it's so very important?" asked Silad.
Legolas turned to the silver-haired elf. "Mirkwood is worse off than what it seems. Our elves keep disappearing...and we discovered why. The orcs took them as hostages, mostly ellyths and elflings. That general was supposed to make a deal with one of the orc leaders to make an exchange. Obviously we weren't really going to give him a map, we were going to ambush him and take him hostage...but it seems he got one step ahead of us."
"Wait, what was the orc leader's name?" asked Estel.
"Hmm...I don't remember actually. I think it started with B. Probably some atrocious name like 'Bolrong' or 'Belgoin' or-"
"Bulgan?" suggested Estel, his memory suddenly standing out to him.
"Yes! That does seem like it, actually! How did you know?" asked Legolas.
"Remember when we were trapped in the tree and all those hungry orcs were below us?" said Estel. "You see, the orcs were talking about someone's orders. That someone was hunting us both for some reason. Apparently it was their leader, an orc called Bulgan."
O-O-O
Thalos nearly jumped when he entered the room.
The usually optimistic elf had nearly lost all of his patience the past few days. His shoulders sagged and a slight purplish hue had settled under his eyes, who had reduced from bright eagerness to a wary stare. After skipping breakfast, once again, to finish the huge pile of paperwork he had left but had not been able to finish yesterday. He also had three council meetings scheduled for today and...he had shaken his head as he'd walked down the hall, a wine merchant from Laketown.
He usually let his siblings meet the Laketown people along with their father. He always made up an excuse or either decided to go out in some patrol. The Men were captivated by Aurell's beauty (unfortunately for the sake of their lives), Legolas admired the culture and was a natural friend-maker and their father...well, he never liked it any more than he did, but he had no choice.
When he opened the door, he found that his father's office had been cleaned completely. The papers that had fallen in the floor carelessly had been picked up and stacked neatly near some shelves. The folders and books he'd roughly squeezed anywhere had been reclassified and ordered, all of them facing the same side. And most magically of all, his paperwork had been done, three neat stacks of papers lining up in the oak desk.
Thalos, wide-eyed, slowly headed towards the desk. There was a note with a book on top and he immediately recognized his father's royal Tengwar script, although it was more scraggly and messy this time, as if he were in a hurry. He took out the book, blew the dust out of the paper and squinted to read:
Thalos,
I am aware that you have been taking my place for the last few days. I appreciate that. I believed it meant I had one thing less to worry about...apparently I was wrong. I decided to check through all your finished work...and it was horrible, so I re-wrote it. Besides, I finished your other work for you. You are a terrible diplomat, perhaps I might have you on tutoring again. Thank the Valar I was only off duty for only a few days, or perhaps Mirkwood might've already been in turmoil.
Anyways, I am leaving. Temporarily of course, I don't really want Mirkwood to end in ruin. I cannot tell you where I am going. I might have been out for hours by the time you read this. I am surprised by the stupidity of our guards. Yes, they are the best soldiers the elven world could offer but really, they cannot notice their own king leaving the kingdom?
Impressive.
Anyways, I say this: do not follow me. Do not send troops to find me. Do not send search parties. Do not leave the palace to go after me. And most importantly of all, do not do anything to find me. I will come back eventually...it is merely something I must do. Something I am meaning to do. So, rule the kingdom wisely in my stead. Dorwinion is good for sleep deprivation as well, that might help.
By the way, in that letter to one of our southern villages, it is 'acquaintance' not 'assassination.' Do you wish for us to have a civil war? Really, I am disappointed in your spelling skills.
O-O-O
It had been some time since he'd done this.
Of course when he was a teenager Thranduil barely had freetime. He'd found much more of a shelter in training and paperwork, hiding behind the words and steel. Oropher had insisted his son to accompany him everywhere and to create some friends, much to his reluctance. He'd adopted much more of his mother's composed demeanor, although he came out much more serious than she did. Which was unlike his father's bubbly and open nature, making him well-loved throughout the kingdom. His laughter had been a thin smile, his father's had been a great boom echoing across the room.
And yet Thranduil remember the very few times his parent's overprotective bubble had burst and they'd let him go have some riding trips. At his age, times had been much more peaceful and Thranduil could be trusted to ride through the Misty Mountains for fun and be home by supper. And he'd always enjoyed those trips, those tiny pouches of freedom. Often, he'd take someone like his friend Ranwe with him or otherwise, he'd go visit Elrond.
He felt fine, although he doubted his horse did. It was already night time and he was sure he'd been riding for more than seven hours nonstop. Even an elven horse had its limits. He got down and patted his horse, muttering some apologies. The horse only turned his head, moved his tale about and abandoned him for some grass, as if his apology wasn't enough. Thranduil snorted. Apparently horses ignored his kingship as well.
The Elf-king sighed and sat under the bark of the tree. He threw an apple from his pocket and caught it with one swift catch of his hand and took a bite of it. And for a moment, he felt peace. As if there was nothing else in this world he needed. It gave him a wave of nostalgia him him and he was reminded of the times. The better times.
And then his mind reminded him of his true purpose of this trip.
He hadn't been in Fangorn for many centuries now. Since...the incident, it hurt too much to go there. It reminded him of her too much and that would cause memory and memory would only cause more pain. Of course he'd gone there after but only under tragic circumstances. As he stared out into the darkness, as the sky turned into an obsidian carpet and the stars climbed on it, Earendil shining bright as always.
And it was once again reminded to him why his people loved starlight the most. It was light, precious and pure. It was hope, surreal but so real. It was memory, painful but heartwarming. And as Earendil watched over his son's friend, he remembered.
[FLASHBACK]
"I said I was going ALONE."
Thranduil glared at all of the soldiers who had risen to follow him. They were right in the outsides of Fangorn. Inside, the thick foliage of mysterious trees seemed endless and there was a strange sense of eeriness. They had set camp outside and Thranduil had arrived there with twenty other elves. One of them, much to his reluctance, was his oldest son, Thalos. This meant his daughter was in charge and he did not once doubt her diplomacy skills...but he did not want to return to find half of his council members with bruises in their faces. That could be a problem.
"Sire, no offense meant," a soldier. "But surely you cannot go there alone! Great tales lie in those woods. Tales of terrible danger. They say-"
"I know what they say, I'm older than you," snapped Thranduil irritably, wondering when his own soldiers had become so stubborn. "I'm going inside alone and that is IT."
"But sire-"
"It was not an option. It was an order."
The soldier closed his mouth and suddenly, out of nowhere, his son appeared, looking quite distraught. Thalos' face was edged with sweat and his eyes looked frantic. "Adar, are you sure you wish to do this alone? Now? I am fully at your disposal and-"
"NO. For Valar's sake, are you all DEAF? I will get there faster on my own. I know my way very well and you'll just slow me down with your lollygaging. This is my duty," he snapped. In fact, he had his own reasons...but those were not to be told. His voice softened, only drastically though. Only his son would tell. "How is he?"
"The fever is getting worse. He's sweating constantly and he is burning up like a never-ending candle. He is restless and squirms and grunts as if he is in deep pain yet he still does not open his eyes," said Thalos, obviously distraught.
And suddenly, as in cue, two elves, healers, came out from a tent. They carried a small makeshift bed and on the long piece of wood they carried, a squirming body had been tied with forest vines. The elf looked terrible, blond hair reduced to a pale white and his eyes, usually bright with curious splendor, dull and dark. Closed. His skin was almost transparent, every vein prominently popping out along with every bone.
Thranduil slowly headed towards the elf as the healers untied the elf. Kneeling down, the healers helped him accomodate the elf in his hands. As he stood up, carrying the sweating body of his youngest son, he couldn't help but notice how easy it was, how light he felt, as if he'd lost a quarter of his weight in the last few days. It was a terrifying concept but it moved him on, he supposed.
"Sire, are you sure you can handle-?" the healer was asking when he was quieted by the intense glare the Elf-king sent her.
"Yes, I will be fine. For Valar's sake, I carried the bodies of dead elves five times my size when I was a child in Dagorlad. Certainly I can carry my own son," he said, rolling his eyes, appearing to be irritated but suddenly, the weight on his shoulders sagged and the true weight of what he was doing came upon him.
Thalos stared at him quizzically, as if he were once again trying to figure out his father and then slowly nodded. "As you wish. We will be waiting for you here, Adar. If you need any help-"
"Yes, yes, I will call. I am not an idiot, Thalos. Just don't set anything on fire," said Thranduil as he took a few steps to stand in front of the forest and without a second look back, he grabbed the trembling body a bit tighter and stepped inside, slowly disappearing into the dark shadow of the trees.
The forest was dark, although not with his kingdom's plague and corruption. Although here everything was much lighter. The air was pure with age and the trees here still bloomed green and aromatic. It was more...mystical here. As if it were still the First Age. Mysterious yet still very eerie. There was a strange sensation, as if you were being watched, but he shook it away. He wouldn't be afraid of some silly noises. He was a king and he had to be one. As he carried Legolas further in the forest, he thought about what his own father would say if his own son was afraid of some noises. After all, he'd been afraid of lightning when he was young.
His father, the cheery one, had always reacted positively enough though. Even so many centuries after his death, Thranduil had never understood how his father had balanced all the duties of his realm and had always maintained a genuine smile in his face. Even while doing paperwork. "Have you been drinking that Dorwinion we advised you not to drink, Ran? It can really befuddle your mind. Besides, the lightning's nothing. Probably just Tulkas beating someone else." Then he'd laugh, ruffle Thranduil's silver-gold mane and go on in his merry way.
Thranduil continued on his way, he easily whizzed past the terrain and dodged the constant shower of trees. He was careful, taking count of every rock and branch, because every move could mean an extra time and perhaps, just perhaps...Legolas could not afford that. Thranduil didn't want to take chances. It was a while until suddenly, in the corner of his eyes, he saw a flicker, a movement.
Out of sheer instinct, he dropped Legolas gently in the ground and unsheathed his sword, turning around in one swift move. He aimed the gleaming elven steel at the figure and then, frowning, lowered it.
As he had expected, a Tree Ent stood there, calmly gazing at the Elf-king. Of course, Thranduil knew him. He was the oldest of them all and easily, the wisdom was carved in the trunk of the Ent. His roots and branches, although thin, were still strong-looking and firm. The gaze warm yet cold. A neutral sense of authority.
"Long has the Elf-king grazed us with his presence," he said, a deep voice which normally would've sounded kind was sprinkled with slight distate. "And when he does, he aims to kill us?"
"It was a mistake," grumbled Thranduil, putting his sword in its sheath and picking Legolas gently, brushing some dirt off his cheek, but quickly, so that the old Tree Ent couldn't see...but of course, he did. "My apologies. Besides, it is not that I do not want to come here, I merely-"
"No excuses, Elf-king. What do you carry on your back?" asked Treebeard, getting straight to the point, gesturing Legolas' body, which Thranduil protectively held.
"Y-You might not remember him. It has been a long time...I came with him once though. About a thousand years ago. I-I came with my wife, do you remember? You blessed him," whispered Thranduil.
"Oh! Of course, I do remember her. Miluneth. Very beautiful, very elegant but very kind. She, was one of the last who truly cared of us. Of the world Yavanna blessed with. Long have my fellow brothers yearned to see the Lady of Mirkwood's light and smiles. Where is she now?" asked Treebeard, a small smile carving into his trunk at Queen Miluneth's memory. Or...whatever that was called.
"Milu-She's gone," said Thranduil, lowering his head with a grief-stricken expression. "The Halls of Mandos claimed her, and so she has left. I need your help."
Treebeard's face softened, empathetically. The children of Yavanna had not only inherited her kindness and nature-loving aura but they'd also inherited her compassion. Her emotions and the love she poured out to every single being. "What may this help be? We do not follow anyone's bidding, Elf-king. You have no authority here-"
And now, was the reason Thranduil had not wanted anybody to see.
He knelt down, in both knees. Something that evidently took the Tree Ent by surprise. His head was down and his shoulders were slumped. He let out a deep breath, one he did not know he was holding and slightly ligthened his grasp on Legolas. Who now, after but a few minutes, seemed paler still, if that was even possible. A small unaudible groan escaped his body...but Thranduil heard. He always did.
"My son is ill. He was struck down by a poisoned arrow, whose foul concotion even our best healers did not recognize. We have done and given him everything but he grows worse everyday. Nor can I ask Elrond Peredhil for help, for he is far away and the Caradhras Pass is blocked. He is dying," he begged, his voice almost cracking at the end. "Please, help him where I cannot."
Thranduil never begged. He never knelt down to anybody or anything. His father had been confident and full of dignity. His mother had been stubborn and determined. Together, Thranduil had almost become the ideal king. Thranduil had never begged in his life. From wanting his blanket when they were doing their dangerous journey west to the Greenwood or begging the Nazgul to not kill his father...he had never said a thing. But this, this was different. His father, himself, always proud, would've disapproved of him kneeling, but...
It had been his pride that had killed him and two thirds of Mirkwood's finest warriors.
He looked up at the Tree Ent, who looked down at the Elf-king with a face of surprise, but warm empathy and then, he said only two words.
"Follow me."
[END FLASHBACK]
Thranduil grunted, whacking his head against the tree.
His horse watched him warily, and if Thranduil had known how to speak to animals as well as his wife had, perhaps he would've understood what he was saying. But he knew that the horse was probably mocking him, perhaps saying, Why in Arda did I get such an insane master?
Thranduil sent one of his famous glares to his horse, one that said, Hey, not like I wanted a horse like you either. The horse only neighed in indignance.
Thranduil hated the memories. Every single one of them. At broad daylight they made him mad and at night the nightmares tormented him. They had started when he was little, when his family and the others had moved over to the Greenwood. They had been ambushed by orcs one of those times and Thranduil, a young elfling at that time, still had memories of that horrendous moment. The worse, of course, was that they came out of nowhere. You never knew when they would come.
"Stupid memories," he grumbled, standing up.
He dusted himself, whistling and beckoning to his horse. The mare came, grunting in animal-like annoyance and stood next to Thranduil obediently. And then, in one swift hop, Thranduil, sat on the horse and they sped off in the distance. With the wind blowing in his hair and the smell of fresh wood, it was almost as if he was young again. As if his Greenwood was still green and uncharred, as if both of his parents were still alive, as if Miluneth was still laughing next to him, as if all of his children still squealed and laughed in innocence as they played in the gardens, as if he was still an elfling, riding with Elrond freely across Middle-Earth and pulling pranks on the cooks.
Almost.
O-O-O
"Le abdollen."
The twins hustled in, their travel-weary bodies dumping themselves on their seats as the food was being served. Sitting at the top of the tables, were of course the Lord and Lady of light. It was currently lunchtime and the twins had entirely missed the appetizers and had come for the main meal, which was a hearty lamb stew with other ingredients and some lembas as well. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel also had this custom of having different people sit with them a few times a month. That is why currently, the table was full. Not only were the two monarchs seated but also two military figures (one of them being Haldir, much to Aurell's delight), two common elves (a farmer and a merchant) along with two advisors.
Aurell sat to Lady Galadriel's right, which was a great honor. But after all, she was a guest, so that was well deserved. She watched quietly as the scene unfolded and as the two grandparents turned to stare sternly at the sons of Elrond, especially Lord Celeborn, who was the one who had spoken.
The twins looked apologetic. "Sorry," mumbled Elladan. "Won't happen next time," muttered Elrohir as they grabbed their spoons at the same time and dipped them into the soup, something that really freaked her out. Did all twins have to be so mechanically alike in some ways?
"It already happened three times, you two. Really, what is the matter? Are our horses particularly more comfortable than the ones there in Imladris?" questioned Celeborn further, although Galadriel had stopped chastising them and gave her husband a calming look.
They were probably talking to each other in their minds, Aurell concluded. Obviously she was pretty bothered by the lack of mental privacy in Lórien but in a way, it fascinated her. After all, Galadriel was the only one who could willingly do so, that made her pretty special, and most importantly as a huge female figure. Besides, the Lady of Lórien was usually gentle with her mental intrusions...usually.
Elladan opened his mouth but shut it when Elrohir shot him a look that said 'No-don't-speak, you're-too-stupid' and said in his place, "No, but the weather is unusually pleasant here, Daeradar. Is it harvest season?"
"Harvest season passed four months ago, hir Elrohir," said an advisor.
"Oh," was all the son of Elrond responded with.
Of course Aurell had been suspicious of the twins. They'd been late for the last few days to all their meals after all, that ought to be something. She supposed the Lady could find out the truth in a matter of minutes but strangely enough, she chose to do nothing about it. She'd talked about her concerns to Haldir and he had agreed with her but erm...they had been a bit busy with other things. She then paid attention back to her meal, realizing she was hungry, after all, she'd been busy training after all.
She listened to the military captain reporting about some kind of patrol schedule issue in the northern part of the kingdom. And she was a warrior all right, but she honestly just couldn't care less. Even Haldir, who was the Marchwarden and always had a role in these things, had begged her to slightly listen to these meetings, because they could give them a hint on their search for Legolas...but honestly, Aurell had no idea how it'd help. It only gaves her more headaches.
Legolas. She inwardly sighed. The search so far was fruitless...She and Haldir had gone and examined the paths near their woods, where he had claimed that Legolas must have some sort of companion. But no matter how hard she tried, she could never think of someone who Legolas traveled with. Legolas loved traveling solo and sometimes he even refused to have the twins with him. That stubborn little bastard, she thought. The paths had been relatively fresh though, meaning they could not have gotten too far. Later in the afternoon, she and Haldir would go down to the streams a few miles away from Caras Galadhon and-
She realized though, that someone was calling to her. Breaking from her thoughts and stew, she looked up and watched as a squeaky advisor looked up at her, expectantly and so was everybody else. Embarrassedly, she looked up and flashed them an apologetic smile. Beauty boosted that a lot. "I am sorry my lord, I'm afraid I did not hear that, my hearing is poor. Would you mind repeating your question?"
He had no problem. Eagerly, he said, "I asked, princess, how your kingdom was doing."
Aurell wanted to scowl at him right away. What a nutheaded idiot. If anybody in her father's court asked anything so dumb like that, she'd make sure that person would get banished. For Valar's sake, you can't just ask a spider, orc and darkness infested kingdom how it was doing? And with their situation...well, what was she supposed to respond? Oh, all right I suppose. My father has just locked himself in isolation, my older brother is driving himself mad with running the kingdom, my little brother is missing and we are constantly getting devoured by spiders. Does that give you an idea, my lord?
She flushed though, when she realized the Lady of Lórien flashed her an amused smile. She probably had heard that. Oops.
"We manage, my lord," she decided quickly.
"I have heard about your situation with orcs, princess. How are your forces doing with that?" asked the military captain, polite yet curious.
Aurell sighed. Even 'my lady' sounded much better than princess. But she supposed this guy had better sense than the squeaky advisor. "Well, I suppose the usual. Orc levels increasing, setting up camps near our lands, strengthening their grip on the south, cunningness is more evident and also, the darkness spreads more throughout the kingdom. Our soldiers do their best to protect our lands and retaliate against their forces of course, they're highly trained warriors. Although we are running out of teachers to keep teaching the novices, since we're now needing more seasoned elves out there in the field. It is our people who keep the kingdom as safe as possible."
"We would gladly lend you some of our wardens," smiled Galadriel kindly. "Lothlórien is currently at peace and except for those awful burnings a few months past, everything has been very calm. We have many to spare." She turned to her Marchwarden. "What say you, Haldir?"
The Marchwarden nodded in agreement. "It is a good idea, my lady. We have had a surplus of wardens this year. We are blessed by the Valar. Many have applied for training. And in fact, some of my seasoned warriors claimed they are too bored. Perhaps Mirkwood will change that." He said, adding a thin smile at the end.
"I would be most grateful," smiled Aurell, genuinely, although it soon erased. "Although the military is more of Thalos' thing. I'm just a warrior. Besides, my only goal right now is to find Legolas and bring him home."
Silence entered the room and none dared to move a finger. They were walking on thin ice now. Any ill-said words might react dangerously.
Suddenly, the squeaky advisor spoke up. "Princess, if I may speak-"
No, don't open your mouth if you're going to say something dumb, thought Aurell but said out loud, "Go ahead, advisor."
"Princess, Prince Legolas is nowhere to be seen. I do not see why we need to have this foolishness. Has the thought come to your head that he wouldn't have run away if he hadn't wanted to be found? We've looked everywhere and there is absolutely nothing. No clues. Not even the lightest of imprints. This is madness! It is as if we were looking for a spirit!"
Aurell watched from the corner of her eyes as she saw Haldir frown, his solemn face curled up in a disapproving glare as he watched the squeaky advisor. Of course he was standing up for her. She gave the advisor a small glare. "Advisor, the reason we need this foolishness is because my brother needs to be found and he will be found. He is not a spirit."
"And how do you know?" said advisor, raising an eyebrow.
Was this idiot challenging her? And what did he mean about him being a spirit...? And then she got what he meant. Every nerve tensed in her body and...then everything became a blur. A scrap of time. Chaos roared and before she knew she was up and growling, about to throw a sea of punches at the advisor, screaming "MY BROTHER IS NOT DEAD! NOT DEAD I'M TELLING YOU, NOT DEAD!" before she was pulled back by a steady pair of arms and the others quickly exited the room, the advisor quickly going out and saying something about 'wild creatures, those of the Mirkwood strain!'
She turned around and glared at Haldir who had let her go. She was fuming and the anger basically radiated off her. But being the Marchwarden, he hid it all behind a cold, emotionless mask, not the least intimidated...and yet she could tell he was concerned. That he wanted only the best for her. She grunted and lightly pushed him off, much to his surprise and then she stormed out from the other door.
O-O-O
AN: WHOA! 7,604 WORDS! How did that happen? Hope the length satisfies for the time though.
Anyways, remember when I said I was going to put this chapter much earlier? It was about to be true...until school dropped an epic bomb at me. My apologies everybody. I know you guys are more interested in my story than my life but...it's kind of suffocating. And it's barely the second week! We have a project, three quizzes, homework, I need to write an essay, fill the application form, ask for two teacher recommendations to join this Junior Honor Society, then I have to make a presentation for my french class and...you get it.
So, back to my story. Here are your awesome reviews! :D
Masked Man 2: Haha, I won't, promise! XD And aww, thanks! I have to confess, I kind of rushed through that chapter but I'm glad you liked the humour! And yes, Legolas and Estel are both the perfect comedian duo. They are bonding together now, so they ought to start getting more along! And about your orc theory, ACTUALLY-wait...hmmm...no connection? I could write something new with that. About Silad...indeed, he is very interesting! He and Legolas do go back a long time...or well, about a thousand years. You will learn about his murder soon. He's going to appear in one of my future stories, written in my profile, "Love Is Keeping The Promise Anyways." So beware! ;) In all, thank you for your compliments! Especially your answer for the equation, that is so sweet, so thank you! Even my advanced math teacher has to give you an A+ !
Emi the Ninja: Haha, he's always diving his head into trouble! And Mandos certainly wants Legolas as a trophy!
Mandos: Mwahaha, I will have your stubborn, wretched soul in my hand and I will stretch it into oblivion as far as I can! I will play with your miserable mind and watch the life flow out of your body, in an endless current from yoru heart and watch as your last droplets of blood drip out of your body and watch as those eyes of yours fade into an abyss of gray and your skin turn into a transparent window to your doom! Finally I can stop chasing you and I'll have you forever in my Halls!
Legolas: ...
Legolas: Erm, okay. Can you do that after you finish this story? I kind of need to finish supper right now.
Schattenjagd: I appreciate you keeping on with this story! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. And go have breakfast, man! Most of us skip it but it's actually a vital part of our energy and enjoy your trip! :) It is a beautiful city and I hope you have a great time doing whatever you need to do there! Be careful though, I heard that there is still some issues a few countries down. And I am definitely looking forward to your reviews! Great humour you have there!
Saphira: LOL! Because trouble means a more interesting story, right? And yes, it IS going to be priceless. And yes, tree messages...because texting is just too 'mainstream' . And I will, namarie!
Luin: Aww, thanks! :D I'm glad you're looking forward to my updating...I am so sorry, I have been really busy! Don't worry, I will ALWAYS try my best to update on this story and my other as well! I want to have this ready by the end of September, so I can start on another story. And yes, Silad is certainly very interesting. You'll truly like him when I write another story of mine. Aww...you think so? Thank you! I will try to post quickly!
Alesia: Thank you so much! :D
Guest: Obrigado! Thank you!