My stories sometimes track Tolkien's version of Middle-earth, sometimes Jackson's.
This story should be considered part of "The Nameless One" series because in it Legolas is referred to as Elrond's foster son. It is set after Legolas's reunion with Thranduil, so Legolas goes by his proper name rather than by Anomen. Legolas has come back to visit Rivendell at a point at which Estel is a late adolescent.
I would like to thank the following reviewers of Chapter 3 of Bravely unto Breeland: invisigoth3, Ne'ith5, leralonde, and CAH. I am delighted to receive any and all responses, whether reviewers are logged in or not. If you do happen to be logged in, I will use the reply feature to get back to you unless you have disabled the private messaging feature. (Please notice that the fanfiction site has changed its system so that responses to reviews go out via the private messaging feature. That is why the people who have disabled that feature have not heard back from me.)
This chapter may incorporate incidents and/or quotations from the book and/or movie versions of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. The chapter may also draw upon posthumous publications edited by Christopher Tolkien, such as The Silmarillion.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly is the beta reader for Parallel Quest, but shorter pieces like this one are posted without a reader. If you catch any errors, please let me know.
Chapter 4: Elf Gift
When Estel, Legolas, and Rædwulf arrived back at the village, they found a small knot of Men standing silently before the headman's cottage. Only one lad was among them, Hroðgar, who, in keeping with his name, clutched a spear.
Faces impassive, the villagers stared at the two strangers. Rædwulf laid one hand on Estel's shoulder, the other on Legolas's. "These two led me to the murderers of Leofwine," he proclaimed.
"How do we know that the two are not themselves the murderers of Leofwine," a Man called suspiciously.
"I saw the proof," Rædwulf responded. "I saw a Southron cutting his food with Leofwine's knife."
The crowd murmured angrily. Another Man spoke. "Mildryð said the Elf spoke of a band. How many are there?"
"Fourteen," declared Estel, abruptly stepping forward.
The murmurs of anger were replaced by cries of dismay.
"Fourteen. All armed?" called another Man.
"Aye, well-armed with bows and swords. And they are practiced with them. They are raiders, not traders."
"We must flee," cried a Man. "We shall all be slaughtered."
"Flee?" said Rædwulf. "To where shall we flee? To the forest? To be fugitives in our own land? To furtively glean what we can whilst our children huddle without shelter?"
"We can build shelters," argued one of his Men.
"Then how shall your plight differ from what it is now?" Estel said boldly. "If you settle in one place, you will have done naught but build another village that may be attacked even as this one will be attacked. Will you abandon that village, too, again leaving behind crops and cottages?"
The Man stood silent, looking at one another uneasily. "But you have said that they are warriors," one said at last. "As you see, we are only a few able-bodied Men, and while some of us are hunters, none of us are warriors."
"You will have the advantage of surprise," Legolas said. "These Southrons will enter your village overconfident, for they do not expect resistance. Moreover, even the agéd Men and the boys may play a part in the defense of this village."
"This is wise counsel," declared Rædwulf. "Let Hroðgar summon the grandfathers and the lads."
Hroðgar raced off, and soon the space in front of headman's house was filled with Men of all ages.
"Look how many we are," proclaimed Rædwulf. "Each one of us may be weak, but together we are strong." He turned to Legolas. "You have a plan, Master Elf?"
"Yes. First, send the woman and the children out of the village. Let them take nothing but their lives and flee north, for the Southron camp is to the south. Tell them to make for the Great East Road."
"And then we shall establish a perimeter around the camp," the headman said fiercely. "We shall not allow the raiders to enter our village."
"We shall establish a perimeter," said Legolas, "but we will allow the raiders to enter."
Rædwulf stared confusedly at him for a minute, and then the Man grinned.
"I understand your plan, Master Elf. You would position our Men in the woods and allow the raiders to pass through the line. Our enemies will be clustered in the center, and we will fire into our foes. Yes, that is much preferable to our being in the center."
Legolas grinned back at the Man. "My friend, you are a wise-wolf. Let everyone take to the trees, with bow and spear—the young ones with rocks. When all the raiders have passed through our line, give the signal. Should any of your foes survive the first volley, they may try to return fire, but they will be in the open, and you hidden by the foliage. Truly, I think your folk can win this battle."
Swiftly Rædwulf gave commands. The woman and children fled the village, not stopping to gather any possessions, and the Men and strong lads swarmed into the trees. Rædwulf went around the perimeter, making certain that his folk were evenly spaced. Then he climbed a tree to the right of Legolas. In a tree to the Elf's left crouched Rædwulf's son Hroðgar, bravely clutching his spear.
Patiently the Men waited. The Moon had been in the top of the trees, and at length it crept down to the ground and hid itself behind distant hills. In its absence, the stars gleamed brighter. Their glow dimly lit the village square, but their light was not enough to penetrate beneath the boughs of the trees. But the darkness did not dampen the night noises. The Southrons moved without speech, but they were no Elves. Under their heavy boots pebbles rolled, leaves rustled, and twigs snapped. Alerted by these noises, Legolas and the Men watched for shadows within the shadows—shadows that moved. They watched as, wraith-like, the raiders, swords drawn, slipped past the hidden watchers and emerged into the village. The Southrons raised their weapons high, preparing to rush into the cottages and slaughter the sleeping inhabitants. Suddenly, a wolf howled. Instantly, dozens of wolves answered.
For a moment, the startled Southrons froze, and several amongst them never moved muscle again. For as the howls died down, the air filled with missiles—arrow, spear, and rock. Some of the Southrons tried to return fire, but while they could not see their foes, they themselves were in the open, and the stars betrayed them. Indeed, to Legolas, it seemed as if the Star of Eärendil suddenly flared and gleamed as brightly as the moon. One beam in particular sought out a Southron as he drew a knife from his sheath and rushed toward the forest, hoping to reach its shelter and engage the enemy hand to hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw Hroðgar bring back his arm to fling his spear. The missile struck the Southron square in the chest, and the raider fell upon his face, the spear shaft breaking beneath him.
So successful was the ambush that the skirmish was over in minutes. Legolas, Estel, and the villagers climbed down from the trees and began to check the bodies of their foes. The one slain by Hroðgar still clutched a knife in his hand. Rædwulf pried open the Southron's fist and held up the knife for all to see. "Leofwine's knife," he proclaimed. The Men murmured in satisfaction. Rædwulf addressed his son. "Hroðgar, Leofwine had no son, so this blade is now yours. It comes to you in requital of the vengeance you have exacted on Leofwine's behalf. Possessing it, you are now the guarantor and protector of Leofwine's daughter."
The Men shouted their approval. As for Hroðgar, he turned as red as a Troll caught in the first flush of dawn (before turning irrevocably to stone, of course).
"Hroðgar probably wasn't expecting to be engaged so soon," Legolas whispered to Estel.
"Engaged? He has been engaged?"
"Yes, Rædwulf has just promised that Mildryð and Ælfgifu will be looked after by his family, and when Ælfgifu comes of age, Hroðgar will marry her."
"Legolas, how old do you reckon Hroðgar is?"
"About twelve, I should say."
"And Ælfgifu?"
"Six or seven. For Men hereabouts, that gap in years between husband and wife is not unusual. By the time Ælfgifu reaches maturity, Hroðgar will be a man in the eyes of these villagers, and the families will unite in marriage. It is a good match on both sides. Ælfgifu and her mother will be protected by the headman, and Ælfgifu's dowry will be a generous one, for it will consist of the land that was once farmed by her father and that will be now farmed by Hroðgar—with his father's help, of course, for even though he is a bold lad, twelve is overly young to take on all the tasks involved in the upkeep of a freehold."
Estel looked over to where Hroðgar, still red-faced, was receiving the congratulations of the villagers.
"I am older than Hroðgar," he mused, "but I am not engaged."
"Do you want to be engaged?"
"No," Estel said quickly. "Although," he added, "I suppose someday I shall."
"When that happens," Legolas said dryly, "I expect you will have to slay more than one Southron to seal the marriage contract."
Their matrimonial banter was interrupted by the approach of Rædwulf. "My friends," he declared happily, "you must rest in Mildryð and Ælfgifu's cottage whilst my folk prepare a feast."
Estel and Legolas gratefully accepted the offer. Messengers were sent to recall the women and children, and Men slaughtered sheep and dressed the carcasses. Legolas and Estel, meanwhile, retired to the cottage, where Estel threw himself upon the bedstead and fell asleep at once. Legolas, however, resumed whittling upon the wooden bird. At last, satisfied, he placed the toy upon the cottage's sole table. Beside it he placed the little parcel of biscuits that the Cook had given him. Then he threw himself upon the bedstead beside his friend and fell asleep instantly.
Several hours later, he was awakened by a familiar voice. "Well, well," the voice rumbled. "You and Estel seem to have managed matters right—as I knew you would."
Legolas sat up abruptly. "Mithrandir!" he cried. "You have returned from Bree so soon?"
"In truth," replied the wizard, "I never made it to Bree. I encountered Radagast on the road, and the two of us turned back. When we reached the spot where you and I parted, we came upon a band of women and children fleeing a skirmish. Radagast and I decided to escort them back to their village, and we have arrived just in time for a feast, seemingly."
By now Estel was also awake, rubbing at his eyes. "Mithrandir!" he cried. "You have returned from Bree so soon?"
The wizard rolled his eyes. "Two peas in a pod," he muttered, "regardless that one has pointy ears. Well, Estel, how do you find the maidens hereabouts? Have you a mind to be engaged yet?"
"Oh, no," exclaimed Estel. "I haven't come near accounting for a sufficient number of Southrons."
"Ah, so that is the bride price nowadays, Southrons—Orcs being at a discount, I suppose."
Estel and Legolas had arisen from the bedstead by now, and they accompanied Mithrandir outside the cottage. There they found the village children clustered around Radagast, who was pulling creatures from his garments and allowing the youngsters to gently pet them. An owl perched upon one of his shoulders, a squirrel upon the other. As Legolas and Estel watched, he drew a tiny hedgehog from a pouch. "See you stroke it in the direction of the quills," the wizard warned. "He won't like it if you stroke him in the opposite direction—nor you won't like it, neither!"
Radagast handed the tiny creature to an awestruck little boy, who took it very carefully. Then he drew forth a mourning dove from some hidden fold and handed it to Ælfgifu. Child and bird both cooed, the one soothing the other.
Mildryð and Friðuswið approached bearing platters and pitchers, and they gently shooed the children away. Whilst they did so, Radagast reclaimed his creatures. As the last lad retreated, Radagast snatched off his cap, where the child had hidden a mouse. "Clever lad," said the wizard as he retrieved the little rodent. "Happens that this mouse prefers headgear," Radagast continued, lifting up his own pointed hat and depositing the tiny creature in his hair before clapping the hat back upon his head.
Legolas and Estel both nodded solemnly. They would save the giggling for later, when neither Mithrandir nor Radagast was by, for it wouldn't do to grin at the antics of a wizard. Instead, they turned their energy toward doing justice to the food and drink that Mildryð and Friðuswið had placed before them.
Both Legolas and Estel found the mutton to have quite a strong flavor, but they were very hungry and moreover did not wish to offend their hosts. The cheese was more to their liking, although they again had to stifle giggles when they noticed that from time to time Radagast would poke tiny pieces of cheese underneath his hat's crown. The wizard also kept dropping bread crusts in various pockets. "Radagast is a walking dining hall," Estel whispered after a little while. "Mess hall," Legolas whispered back. "Emphasis on the mess. I don't think all his white hairs are the result of age."
Estel couldn't help grinning at that, but Mithrandir caught his eye and frowned at him. Quickly, the young Man reassumed a sober expression, gravely complimenting the women for the excellent repast.
After the feast, Mithrandir, Radagast, Estel, and Legolas joined the villagers around a bonfire. Men told tales and sang ballads, and Radagast once again allowed the children to carefully handle his animal and bird friends. As for Mithrandir, he lit his pipe, and soon his smoke creatures joined Radagast's creatures of feather and fur in enthralling the children.
"Mithrandir," Legolas said softly as he sat next to his mentor, "are you not afraid that Elrond will be angry when he learns that you left Estel and me to our own devices."
"Oh, I knew you should come out unscathed."
"That is all very well for you," Legolas retorted, "but we didn't know that."
"Of course not," replied the wizard insouciantly. "What kind of test would it have been if you had known that everything would turn out well?"
Legolas saw that there was sense in what Mithrandir said. The worth of any 'courage' that they might have shown would have been debased had they known there was nothing to be frightened of in the first place. And there had been reason to be frightened. Legolas had spoken bravely to the villagers, assuring them that the battle could be won, but all along the Elf had been hiding his fear that the Men, novices at warfare, would waver and break ranks, thus imperiling not only their lives but the lives of Estel and Legolas. But led by Rædwulf the Wise Wolf, the pack of Men had held fast, defeating the enemy.
For the time being, that is. Rædwulf came to sit by Mithrandir, and to the disappointment of the children, the wizard put aside his pipe to talk to him.
"You have destroyed this one band of raiders," Mithrandir said to the headman, "but I deem that more and more of this treacherous folk will make the journey north in hopes of easy pickings." He spoke so softly that only Legolas overheard this speech.
"I reckon you are right," Rædwulf replied, equally softly, "but what are we to do? That lad Estel spoke the truth when he said it would do no good to remove from this place. No matter where we settle, we may be attacked by wicked Men who covet the poor possessions that we have won by the sweat of our brow."
"There is safety in numbers. You might dwell in a place more thickly inhabited."
"Thickly inhabited? Aye, well, there's the rub. Folks what already dwell in such places are not likely to look kindly upon late-comers, for there is only so much water and woods and wold to be doled out amongst the people. At best, we might be permitted to take possession of wastelands that have been scorned by others because the soil is thin or poorly watered. No, my friend, we must remain in this village and farm the lands our forefathers farmed."
"If you are resolved to do so, then you must take steps to make this settlement more secure."
Rædwulf considered. "Now I give thought to that, Master Wizard, I see what we must do. We used the forest to our advantage last night, but it cannot be denied that, had your young friends not warned us about the raiders, the advantage would have been theirs. Under cover of the trees, they should have reached the village entirely undetected. Henceforth we must not allow any trees to grow within bowshot of our settlement. My Men shall cut back the forest to that point and a little beyond. With the felled trees, we shall then erect a palisade, with platforms upon which archers may stand to fire upon any foe so foolish as to try to cross the clearing."
"Excellent! And sentries—you must have sentries. Neither clearing nor palisade will do you any good if your enemies can stroll up to the wall undetected and toss grappling hooks o'er the top."
"True. Each night I shall see that four watchers are stationed upon the parapet—north, south, east, and west."
Mithrandir nodded vigorously. Legolas could see that he was very pleased. Soon after this conversation, Rædwulf bade them good night. It was late, and families had begun to drift toward their dwellings. Estel and Legolas—now accompanied by Mithrandir and Radagast—were to again have the use of Mildryð and Ælfgifu's cottage. The Istari took the bedstead, of course, leaving Estel and Legolas to spread their blankets upon the floor. "Privilege of age," Mithrandir said grandly, leaving Legolas to wonder—and not for the first time—how old the wizard really was.
As they were preparing to sleep, Ælfgifu came shyly to the door, sent to fetch some articles of clothing. Mithrandir kindly bade that she should enter. The little girl took several cautious steps and halted. "What is it, child?" the wizard asked encouragingly. Ælfgifu pointed at the table, where the whittled bird perched beside the parcel of biscuits.
"'Tis a gift from your father," Legolas offered.
The little girl crossed to the table. Picking up the bird, she cradled it in her arms as if it were the most precious object in the world. Still shy, she nevertheless favored Legolas with a small smile.
"That parcel is for you as well," Legolas said.
"From my father?"
"No, that one is from me."
"My name means 'Elf gift', and now I have got an Elf gift," the little girl said thoughtfully. "I wonder what my Mama will say."
"That you are well named and are a gift yourself," Legolas replied. "Now you had best return to your Nana, for it is long past your bedtime, I reckon."
The little girl retrieved the garments she had been sent to fetch, and with the bird and parcel balanced atop the bundle, she departed, favoring Legolas with one last smile as she went out the door.
"Those biscuits were well bestowed, Legolas," Mithrandir commented after she had left.
"How do you know that biscuits are in that parcel?" Legolas asked.
"I recognize the Cook's handiwork," the wizard replied.
"And I recognize your handiwork," Legolas said. "It was never your intention that they should abandon this village, was it, Mithrandir?"
"No, it was not."
"Then why did you recommend to Rædwulf that they should?"
"To stir these folk into taking the actions necessary to make their village defensible. Now they are safer, and my task is the easier."
"Why is your task the easier?"
"Well-defended settlements scattered throughout this region—that is a desirable development," Mithrandir replied. "'Twill give the Enemy pause. Now you had best go to sleep, for it is long past your bedtime, I reckon."
"Mithrandir!" Legolas exclaimed indignantly. Beside him, Estel choked as he tried not to laugh. Legolas poked him in the side. "If it is past my bedtime, then it is surely past yours," the Elf grumbled.
"It is past all our bedtimes," interjected Radagast. "Well, except for Friend Owl." The brown-robed wizard arose and opened the door to release the owl to hunt for its supper. Then Radagast returned to the bedstead, and their safety assured at least for this one night, he and the others fell sound asleep.
