Same disclaimer as in chapter 1. Same pleas as were made in chapters 1 and 2.
Sorry this one is so long – it's 23 pages in Word. It was once two chapters (earlier chapters three and four in my first posting of this fic), but I realized there really was no place to split it properly, so… you get a behemoth of a chapter. Yay?
"Elrohir..." Legolas seemed confused suddenly, placing a hand over his chest as he spoke endearingly to him, eyebrows furrowed slightly. "I am Legolas, of the woodland realm. Son of the King of what was Mirkwood. Am I not familiar?" He seemed suddenly distracted and slightly irritated that his companion had not shown himself, and he glanced back then, uttering in a different tongue.
"Tolo si, Haldir! Tolo si!" Haldir took that as his time to enter, despite his reluctance to do so. What sort of devilry was this, that Elrohir knew naught of Legolas Thranduilion?
The elf that made his way from the trees next looked highly suspicious, and he held a regal, and arrogant heir about him. He was taller than the first, slightly larger of build, and fair haired - though his hair stood almost as silver as the ethereal light of the waxing moon. His garments were grey. Both held bows of superior craftsmanship, though it was the one referred to as Haldir's that was raised with an arrow pointed at him.
"Lower your weapon, and I shall lower mine," the sterner elf uttered firmly, an thin eyebrow arching. Legolas looked completely horrified by this.
"Haldir!"
Silathil frowned thoughtfully. Legolas...? And the other was obviously called Haldir. He'd assumed such from the Elvish words the other spoke. He found that though his mind knew not the meaning of the words, he could still understand the general intent. It was wise for the first to command his friend to come out, though he did not expect the other to "greet" him the way he did. He shook his head faintly at the question of familiarity, some sort of worry lingering deep in his mind.
It appeared these two recognized him, or at the very least, Legolas did. But how did they know him ... and from where? "I do not recognize either of you. How can I trust you won't fire the moment I've lowered my guard?"
Butter was dancing now, shifting herself from hoof to hoof as she watched the arrow aimed at her keeper. His gaze darted between the two, focusing upon the darker-blonde at the young male's exclamation, weighing what he saw before him. Legolas did not wish him shot, apparently recognizing him immediately. The other, the more fair-of-haired Haldir, seemed not to have any qualms about firing that arrow, but he wagered that he did not wish to harm him either. Slowly, his bow was lowered even before a reply could be made. These two would not fire upon him.
"My name is Silathil ... and I would know your business near my village, for no elves have had business here in the long time I've lived here, and I find it difficult to believe any have business here now."
Haldir let just the slightest glance dart to Legolas before his slate blue eyes were back on the AWOL Prince of Imladris.
Legolas, too, was watching the dark-haired elf again. He knew he could not scold Haldir for brandishing the weapon at Elrond's youngest son, for it seemed that Elrohir was in a impaired frame of mind. In hindsight, he became very aware that maybe he had been rash at coming out so vulnerable. It was only that he expected the elf-man to recognize him, and disarm. It was a mistake the Prince of Mirkwood would not make again.
"Silathil...?" Legolas questioned in obvious confusion.
Haldir had lowered his bow as Elrohir did, and then placed a hand upon the others shoulder, turning his head to look at him. "He sees us, yet sees us not, Legolas." Haldir told companion. "Some devilry is at work on our Lord Elrohir, and I fear he is not himself." As the last word lingered on his lips, he was again looking upon the fair face of Elrond's son. His eyes were narrowed in skepticism as he stared at this 'Silathil' so hard it was as if he were probing his very soul, but even as he looked at him, he could see no deception there. He truly believed this was his name.
"Your village, say you? And how long is it that you've resided there? I believe it is a fair wager to say you can remember naught a thing after only a few centuries."
Silathil stared at the two as they conversed, confused at what he heard. Elrohir? What was so important about that name? But then questions were being asked of him. Of him! And they were the strangers! His own dark brows furrowed, narrowing in wary annoyance.
"You bargained with me, now I shall request the same of you. State your business, as I already now know your names, and I shall answer your questions." In truth, his mind was already a jumbled mess. How had Haldir known of the length of time he'd stayed at the village? How did he come to knowledge that he'd only been able to remember life since then, never before?
His newest questions would have to wait, however. Pride, if anything, demanded that his own inquiries of these elves be answered, then respect required he respond to theirs before new questions could be uttered. It was something he certainly retained from his father, though he had no memory of it. Pride. Even mucking out the stalls for the Ricwold family, he held that air of importance. They never talked down to him, though, and they were always fair to him. The same would be demanded of those intruding upon his life, his whole world as he knew it. His gaze ping-ponged between the two and he slowly slid from his horse, patting Butter's neck soothingly as if to assure she was safe. She instantly stilled beneath his touch, and he couldn't hide the slight smile that formed upon his lips. He truly cared for the mare, as he did all of his charges, and would allow no injury to any of them.
"Why have you come here?"
"Perhaps we are mistaken, Haldir. And this is not Elrohir," Legolas offered, even knowing that wasn't likely. But he had never heard of an Elf lord losing their mind! Haldir openly laughed at this then, making a motion with his hand to the dark haired Prince, eyebrows raised in his mirth.
"Look upon his face in this instance and see his father's features. The eyebrows tell no lies, Greenleaf. Were that he 4 millennia older, his brows would cover his very eyes in that scowl!" Legolas couldn't help but offer a sheepish smile then, his gaze cutting from Haldir and to the Prince and back again.
"Surely you don't jest as if he is not standing there," he chided the Lórien archer in a carefree manner, seeming to relax more.
Haldir arched his brow. "Surely you do not speak about him as if he isn't there, Princeling."
And it was then that Legolas laughed, the full smile he offered seeming to light the very trees around them, the glimmer that seemed to shine inward from his eyes twinkling somehow brighter. Haldir seemed off-put by the blonde Prince's pure beauty suddenly, and returned his gaze to the deep haired one.
"What business is our business to you, Twin Lord of Imladris?" He was asking him. "Are you lord of this realm around us?" He makes a sweeping motion to the trees. "We are elves from north of here. Legolas is on his final travels before we seek our paths to the Grey Havens to sail the ship to Valinor, never to again return to Middle Earth. I am Haldir of Lórien, Marchwarden and Emissary of the Galadhrim. I have been sent south to search for the lost Grandson of the Lord and Lady of my people." He quieted himself then, watching to see what Elrohir would make of this before he revealed who that grandson was. He had told him no lies, and there was no deception in his eyes.
The jet-tressed elf followed the conversation with a growing sense of agitation. Were they making fun? Surely they were, for laughter was on their fair faces. Never before had he seen such ethereal beauty, and never before had such a look dug beneath his skin like a barb.
"I know not of who you've just addressed, Haldir of Lórien. I have no twin here, nor am I lord here, or anywhere else to my knowledge." He sighed then, his gaze falling from either elf to cast eyes upon his village in the distance. He had to return soon or the entire family would be riled with his absence. After living there for generations, they simply had gotten used to his being there.
"Your guess was on the mark, however. I do not remember anything before my arrival here, though I know I must have had some sort of life. But I've no time to discuss that matter here. If you wish further answers, you may come with me to the village ... with another rabbit, there ought to be enough to feed you both, and you may stay with me above the stables for the night. Though, I fear it is not proper accommodations for a Prince or Emissary, it is more than the rest of the village would offer you, I'm certain, even if you paid them. Strangers are not often welcomed here warmly. I must have your word that no harm shall come to any while you are there, though, or I will not be responsible for my family's acceptance of you, nor of the villagers' reactions."
It seemed a good offer to him, though he wasn't certain what the two before him would make of the gesture. It was the best promise he could make, though, and even at that point, he was sure the family would be strained with wariness. His own questions were wanting answers, inquiries he'd yet to voice, and he begged silently that they would accept. Though he was confused at their terms, he had not met another elf before, and he was beyond curious of these two.
"And please, call me Silathil ... for despite what you might believe, it is my name here." And indeed, at least at that point, his name certainly was truthful. Moonshine. He looked like the moments of midnight, pale light against the darkness, silvern and elegant.
Legolas looked to Haldir then to see what course of action he wanted to take. He was always ready to do anything, as long as there was promise of an adventure. And he could see promise here as thick as Lembas dough.
Haldir turned his eyes onto the fair being at his side, searching him for clues to what he wanted to do, just as Legolas was looking to him. It would seem they were communicating without words.
/What say you, Prince?/ He breathed in his mind.
/I say we take him on his offer. I am curious beyond fair judgment. What say you?/ The reply came quickly, with a lilt of amusement hidden between the words.
Haldir grinned suddenly, turning his attention back on the Dark Prince. "We shall follow you where you lead, Silathil. I believe we are all curious at this point." he admitted, putting his bow at his hip, and resting his hand on the fine wood shaft casually. Legolas did nothing to put his own away, opting instead to hold it comfortably in his hand as he often did when he traveled. A warrior's caution had now become habit.
"Yes," he was agreed with a smile, taking the few steps needed to put himself close to 'Silathil'. He raised an elegant hand then, and clapped it gently against his shoulder. "There are many questions left unanswered. Some you have not yet thought to ask, and some we have not yet had the opportunity to."
The blue of his eyes seemed to brighten as his mood had become lighter. The wind in the forest played around them then suddenly, lifting strands of gold and black twisting them together if only for a moment before he'd stepped away. Haldir, too, had the breath of the wind on his cheeks, a hand raising with less patience to push the loose strands of platinum back over his broad shoulders, even as his face held no change to show that he'd noticed or not.
"Come then, shall we go?" He asked the Princes before him. Valar help him...stuck far from home with two royal sons of a Lord and a King...
The relief that washed Silathil's features could not be missed, nor could the small smile that wormed across his lips in response to Legolas and Haldir's. A shake was given first, whispering a few words into Butter's ear along the lines of "watch them" before gesturing to the forest.
"I had mentioned needing another rabbit. If you both would be so kind as to wait here with Butter, she'll be sure to keep you company while I find another." And she would keep either of them from running off as well! Before either of the elves before him could reply, he'd faded into the shadows of the dimming forest, searching out another of the plump, hopping denizens of the wood. It didn't take him long, though, and he returned only a moment or two later with a pleased look upon his features. The game was secured upon Butter's back, and only after did he spare a glance toward the two visitors.
"This way," he led them down path that grew clearer as they approached the town, broadening into a dirt road lined with small homes of wood and straw. The town held no name, as it was only a handful of families, but it was cozy. He guided them both toward a small house beside a larger building that appeared to be the town stables, Butter clopping along behind them all with nary a care in the world.
As they entered the stalls, two small forms came barreling through the place, screeching his name, moving fast enough to be blurs to any human eye. "Sila! Sila! Momma told us you were bringing rabbits for dinner!" The two chorused simultaneously, latching miniature arms about either of his legs, bringing a warm chuckle to his lips.
"Aram... Daine..! Do you not see we have guests?" Fingers lowered to ruffle the children's hair before dislodging each from his limbs to brush down Butter and retrieve the small animals from her back. "Bring these to your momma ... and could you tell her that we'll need food for two more? I ran into some travelers while hunting."
The two youngsters nodded as they accepted the furry creatures, finally glancing at the two elves in their presence over and quite literally gaping. "Silathil! They look like you! ... Sorta..." Aram's exclamation came, as he was definitely the bolder of the two, while Daine only blushed and wriggled tiny fingers in the Prince and Emissary's direction before grabbing her brother's elbow and leading them both out.
At their departure, Silathil only offered an apologetic grin. "They're energetic ... drive their momma to her wit's end sometimes, but they're good kids." And he fell silent then, finishing his care of Butter before returning his attention upon the two elves. "I suppose you'd like to see where you'll be staying the night?"
At their sign of the affirmative, Silathil smiled softly and headed toward a small door near the front of the stables, resembling that of a closet. Upon opening it, however, it was proven to be a narrow staircase, leading up to the second floor, which skirted around the edge of the building, leaving the middle of the stables with a high ceiling.
His room engulfed most of the second floor, and despite the fact he was an elf, it wasn't decorated very elaborately. He had but one dresser, upon which lay a sword - one found near him by the villagers, along with his bow from centuries back - and a few leather ties for his hair. Upon the walls were simple tapestries woven by various members of the family through the years, most long since deceased. They were brightly colored, usually with images of horses or leaves upon them, though they were made of course cloth. Silathil treasured them for what they were, and had kept them safe from harm through the years.
There was a single bed in one corner, obviously used frequently, along with four across the way that were simply kept for travelers that dared to venture near their village. "You may use whichever bed you'd like... we don't get visitors often, so I doubt there will be need of the others." And he moved to his dresser then, opening a drawer and finding a comb within, raking it through his hair quickly to remove any leaves or snarls that lay within their strands. He wouldn't dare come near the family table without looking somewhat presentable, unless there was some grave reason for doing so.
Both Haldir and Legolas took everything within the room in with great curiosity, standing close to one another at the entrance to the room like two timid children in a new and odd place. Haldir found his eyes attracted most by the bright tapestries on the wall, while Legolas seemed completely fascinated with the little beds, and that he should get to sleep in one. Indeed it had been a long time since he had done so; his travels had taken him to many forests in which he had slept. It was he, the golden blonde then that made his first move to enter completely and set his belongings down on one of the beds.
Haldir came next, moving close to the wall to look at the tapestries more closely, the very tips of his fingers brushing over them gingerly so as not to mess anything up. Both elves looked wondrous, completely out of place here in their regal Elven attire and their light hair. Neither of them, though, seemed to mind or even notice.
Silathil observed the two as they wandered through his room finally, unsure now whether he should sit upon his bed or stand... or ... invite them to sit... or... Oh, bother! He finally just took a few strides toward the two, letting them guide how they would speak.
"How did it come to be that you live here, Elro--er... Silathil?" Haldir asked in curiosity, shaking his head as he almost made the mistake of his name. "What is it that you first remember?" Following Legolas's example, he too sat his things down on a bed.
The dark-haired elf chuckled slightly at the question, shoulders rolling in a light shrug. "I remember waking up here, with a kind face peering down at me, asking me if I was all right. Before that? Just dreams, really. Apparently, I was found when the men of this village went out and were attacked by a troop of orcs. When the creatures were taken care of, I was discovered unconscious and quite beaten. The sword on my dresser and the bow I use are the only things they found that weren't orcish, and so figured they belonged to me. How I came by the orcs, I can not remember. The family took care of me till I was well enough, and then offered a job tending the horses once they discovered how well I worked with them. ... I've been working for the family ever since..."
He mentioned nothing of his disturbing dreams of times before, nor of the fact that he remembered a bit of his former language. Not yet, at least. "They've been so kind to me, more so than I've seen any other family in this village show toward anyone..." They saved him. It was quite reasonable for him to feel loyal to the Ricwolds.
Both blondes watched him incredulously, both having sat on their respective beds to give him their full attention. As he went on, both of them became quite grave, their prior airy demeanor replaced with unease. It was obvious that elves could oftentimes wear their emotions on the outside, just as they could expertly hide them within.
It was Haldir that spoke first. "Indeed, you are fortunate to have been found by caring hosts...not all would be so lucky." he spoke quietly before looking away to his hands, which rested thoughtfully in his lap. How odd it was to talk to him as if they'd never met, when he'd seen him countless times in the past, and spoken with him kindly.
Legolas too was feeling the helplessness of the situation, but he pressed the matter on, too curious to let it go. "Do you ever wonder about your life before? Have you not been curious?" He asked earnestly, standing up then in a fluid motion to sweep across the room. He was upon the dark haired prince then, holding his face between his hands as he looked into his eyes deeply, searching for some sort of spark of recollection.
"Legolas... I..." Silathil echoed Haldir's sigh faintly, sorting through his thoughts to figure what he ought to say next. Would he dare tell them how he felt? It was so odd, so strangely familiar to be standing there, gazing first to Haldir, and then focused upon the darker blond when his face was so gently taken into hand. His mind was warring with something deep within him, something that wished him to remember, yet couldn't.
Legolas either did not see the conflict, however, or believed continuing to be far more important. "I know you, Silathil. But not by that name. Upon visits to Imladris with my father, I would spar with you, and your twin brother Elladan. Your father is Lord Elrond Peredhil, your mother is Celebrian of Lórien. You are a prince, just as me, gone missing long ago. You've been searched for in this land by Aragorn II, King of Gondor, recently passed husband of Queen Arwen Undomiel, Evenstar of her people. YOUR people, for she is your sister. Do you not feel any of this?" Legolas spoke with fierce emotion, and Haldir had to stand after several verbal attempts to get him to stop, to pull him back and away from the dark haired one.
"Legolas...doro..." he spoke gently, looking to the blond prince sympathetically and shaking his head. Elrohir, or Silathil, wasn't ready for something like this.
Legolas had turned his earnest, heartfelt gaze on him. "You mean to just let him live here like this, while all his people pass from this Middle Earth to the undying lands?" he demanded.
"No, but now is not the time for this. Not after we have only just--" Haldir started.
"We have not the time we used to, Haldir," Legolas interrupted. "The time is coming that we will be closed from it all forever. His father has passed to the undying shores, and hence since, his grandfather. His time is running out. His brother's time is running out, faster than ours. They have yet the choice to make about the blood that's flowing with in them..." He turned to Silathil then. "Now as I talk to you, your brother sits in Lothlorien, and nary a day goes by that he does not sing a lament for the brother everyone thinks is dead. He would waste away here to wait for you to come home."
Haldir sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers firmly. Blessed Valar...Legolas had too much wind. If he didn't stop soon, he would pass to the halls of Mandos.
Had Silathil's past been beaten out of him? Would he never be able to remember? The dark-haired Lordling's eyes glittered with unshed tears and emotion, mixed with frustration and a mild amount of anger at the whole scenario being thrust upon him. "What would you want me to do? If I am all you say I am, I can not remember! Maybe, somewhere deep inside, I still am the elf you say I am... maybe I'm that prince you describe. And I feel horrible that anyone is suffering because of me. But my life - whatever I remember of it - it is all here! These people have become family to me! Should I abandon them? What would Aram and Daine think? What would their parents think? I've known them all since they were mere babes, I've taught them to ride... I've mourned when their parents died. Even remembering who I am could not change that!"
He shook his head and turned from them both, stalking to his own bed and dropping down upon it, fighting against his raging emotions, fingers tugging upon obsidian strands as the tension within him mounted.
He had a brother? A twin, no less! A single tear trickled down his cheek before glancing upward at the two, his voice thick and weary. "I have dreamed images clouded by the blur of loss ... of family. Of people like myself. Knowing I was theirs. And yet every day I woke to be greeted as family by these people... loved as their own. And now you tell me that people... elves that love me but whom I can not remember, wish that I abandon those I know for them... and what kills me is that a great part of me wants to, even when my heart screams against it." He quieted then, still fighting those blasted tears. He hadn't cried since they found him, and that was only because he was in so great pain he could not help it, and now he was so close to sobbing!
"Aye, you have a twin. ...A twin in heart and soul as well as likeness. Whenever I would see you, the other was always there. You are the youngest." It was Haldir that spoke this time, clearly reading his thoughts. But his voice was gentler and less direct then the impassioned voice Legolas had used. Haldir still stood, just watching Silathil quietly in his tall and regal manner.
Legolas, however, had crumbled to the bed, still somehow proud even as he stared miserably at the floor. He was having a hard time understanding it all. Just as Gandalf's death had brought him odd pain, and confusion, and then the loss of Boromir... Then Aragorn, and now a friend in youth stood uncertain right before his eyes, and there was nothing he could do to help him understand. He had not the power.
Haldir made his move then to crouch before the dark Prince, looking up at him patiently. "I cannot pretend to understand your conflict, Silathil. I can only promise that I will try to the best of my ability. And in whatever choice you make, I will not intervene, or tell you to do other wise. All I can do is tell you who you were, and what you mean to the people that think they have lost you. I would ask you to permit me that at least, for I have traveled long roads to search for you."
Oh, dear lords. The tears could be held back no longer, and as Haldir knelt before him, Silathil's entire emotional fortress cracked. Though the blonde before him was part of the source of his pain, he was also the nearest to him that might provide even a breath of comfort and Silathil... Elrohir... found himself tumbling forward to cling, his entire form quaking as he battled with his own mind.
He wanted to remember... he wanted to understand. Yet he was afraid to do so, for fear it would cause him pain of leaving those he'd come to love. He clutched at the elder, for something within him whispered that the March Warden was indeed older than he, slowly pulling himself together.
When he was calm enough to do so, he pulled back, actually sniffling in quite an un-regal manner. "I'm sorry... I haven't done that since..." He trailed, then shook his head to clear those thoughts away. "I think I'd like you to tell me about them... the elves you say used to know me... maybe I will remember, eventually?" He seemed hopeful then, though so much like a child as he knelt in front of Haldir, uncertain and wary. "I won't hide any of this from the Ricwolds, though... they deserve to know about this." The words were said more firmly than anything else - he would not put his family through anything more than what they would have to go through, should he choose to leave at the end. "Agreed?"
When the elf lord had hugged him, Haldir wasted no time in consoling him, wrapping his arms about him, and caressing elegant fingers over his hair as he stole a pained look over at Legolas, whose eyes mirrored his own. "Do not be sorry," he told the fretting elf as he backed away, and again he nodded as Elrohir made clear his wishes.
"Aye, there are no secrets to your past. It should be an open book for all who are in your favor to read. If you want them to know the true you, that is your decision alone." He watched him for a long moment. "Would you have me tell you your life now, or shall we wait for your family?" He inquired unsurely, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind his delicately pointed ear.
Legolas had straightened his posture, was now watching them in dour quiet. He didn't want Elrohir to stay here. He wanted him to come home with them. But as much as he hated to admit Haldir was right, it was Silathil/Elrohir's choice in the end. They had to accept that gracefully, even if the choice was badly made to their liking.
Silathil, for that was what he still knew himself as, shook his head faintly at the two offers, clarifying his answer verbally only a moment or so later. "Could we wait until after the family eats? Things will be tense enough as it is without them knowing all." He straightened himself then, easing his body back onto his bed, those grey eyes still wet with his tears, though he thankfully did not appear to be seconds from letting them out any longer. A grateful expression flickered over his features, lips attempting to pull themselves into a smile, though it wavered precariously in the execution.
He hadn't much time to remain so uncertain, nor was there time for Haldir to answer, for tiny feet were heard clomping quite loudly up the small stairway before Aram burst in on the scene, skidding to a halt to glance between Legolas, Haldir - who had stood moments before the pint-sized being burst onto the scene - and Silathil. He stood there for a few shy moments, rocking on his heels before bolting for his elder friend, hopping on the bed uninvited, as if he'd done so countless times. Silathil only chuckled, for who could not when a bundle of arms and legs managed to find themselves in a heap on one's lap?
"Aram! Did you even think to greet our guests?" The boy shook his head almost indiscernibly before finally mustering the courage to peer up at Haldir, then tentatively sent that honey-brown gaze toward the elf sitting across the room, fingers lifting to wave a timid hello.
"Hello, Silathil's friends..."came the faintest squeak, obviously quite intimidated by the regal looking pair that Silathil had invited into his room. Bright, merry eyes turned upon his familiar friend once more. "Momma says your guests are more than welcome so long as the horses remain looked after, not that she needs to remind you cuz you've never ne... nee-glected them before in your life," the youngster parroted his mother's voice before erupting into giggles when Silathil tickled his sides briefly.
"Of course the horses will remain looked after while they're here! Aram... would you like me to introduce my guests?" The boy nodded silently at the offer, turning shy yet again as he squirmed to sit in Silathil's lap, facing the two elves bashfully. Silathil gestured first to Haldir, as he was closest, his free arm circling Aram's waist to keep him from toppling over in his excitement.
"This is Haldir... he's an Emissary from a place called Lórien. And his friend is Legolas, from somewhere he said used to be called Mirkwood." Aram watched both as they were introduced to him, seemingly in awe, for he sat quite still for a human child.
"And... you.. you two are real, live elves? Really? We've only ever known Silathil... and he doesn't count cuz he lives here. None ever visited here!" Innocent sienna orbs blinked in adoration over Haldir, waiting in whatever patience he might have for the March Warden's answer, before adding in one last inquiry. "And... And... whatsa E..Em... Essimary?" He stumbled over the word, brows furrowed rather adorably in his attempt.
Haldir had only a moment to turn and glance behind him as the child bounded into the room making enough noise to be mistaken as a small troupe of Orcs. Only the slight flaring of his nostrils gave away that he was most displeased with this. He didn't have to look at Legolas to know he was smiling. He was by far the more patient of the two of them, and didn't seem to mind children at all.
Legolas was indeed smiling as Aram entered, and upon being introduced he raised an elegant hand, and offered the shy child a kindly wave. "Quel Undome, young Aram. That's how we say good evening in our language," he informed the child gently. "And, yes." He answered, for it was plain by the grumbling grunt Haldir made that he wasn't going to say anything. "We are elves, come from the north. Perhaps I can tell you a story later about my travels. I have a story I think you will like."
Haldir sneered slightly, half rolling his eyes. "Don't let him get started," he warned the boy, taking a few steps back and turning to walk to a particularly colorful tapestry, letting his eyes pass over it closely. "Once he begins, you'll have to sit there for a life time listening to him." He looked over to the boy then, sensing his apprehension with him. "An Em-i-sary is a representative of sorts. I represent the city of Caras Galadhon."
"Yes." Legolas added. "It's a city built up in the limbs of great Mallyrn trees. You have never seen them, for they only grow in Lothlorien – the Golden Wood far north of here. But their height is so great that when standing below them, you can nary see the tops of them. And their base is so wide, you could easily fit with in them an entire wagon." Haldir cut a slight look over to Legolas, arching a brow slightly, as he'd just stole his thunder, so to speak. It was better that way, he suspected. The children would go to Legolas for stories, and leave him alone. Unless the rumor was true, and the youngsters would see him as a challenge, there fore bug the tar out of him.
Silathil at first was simply amused and thankful for the readiness Legolas displayed to be friendly toward Aram, for as the elf spoke, he felt Aram grow closer and closer to transferring himself to the golden-haired elf. As it was, Aram's shyness faded drastically at the mention of a story, and he quite literally bounced in Silathil's lap as information bombarded him from both fair-haired elves.
"A city in trees? And you're not worried that people'll fall out?" Though he'd known Silathil for his entire, short life, he wasn't quite sure if every elf was as balanced as his friend. He was warming quickly to both elves, though even he sensed Haldir's reluctance with children. It made no matter to Aram, though, as he'd encountered folk like that within his own village, and they always came around eventually. He figured Haldir would end up much the same, and so his frostiness was simply shrugged off, and those small brows dipped in concentration as he tried to grill the strange words the two elves each used to memory, repeating them softly as he rested against his friend.
Legolas chuckled at his enthusiasm, his smile once again lighting his face, making him seem unnaturally out of sorts in the stable room. "No, as far as my recollection takes me, and I am well over 2,000 years old, not a one has fallen from the city talans." Legolas assured him.
"Save my brother, Rumil." Haldir interrupted, a mischievous smile lighting his own face as he traced a pattern on the tapestry with his forefinger, not bothering to look at any of them. "But that was only because I pushed him off in our youth..." He faded off then, seeming to go into thought.
"So... Quel Undome is what I'd say if any more of you show up tonight?" Yup, Aram was a quick learner... for a human. He turned to Haldir then, taking in the correction he was given easily... one could almost see the gears turning in his little head. "Annnnd... You're an Emissary for Caras Galadhon." Yup, he'd managed to store those words quickly, using them - as his mother instructed him many a time - immediately.
"Yes. Very good! Quel Undome." Legolas gave him a clap, knowing that children love to be praised.
Aram bounced once more before slipping from Silathil's lap, turning to face him curiously. He spoke again, more questions in that little mind of his. "If they're all from different places, then... you must be, too! Where did -you- come from? Before you came here?" And that took Silathil by surprise, shocking him into silence. He knew not how to answer that question without upsetting the lad, and he didn't wish to do that any more than he wanted to drive a pike through his foot.
Finally, he tried. "I do not remember, Aram... Legolas and Haldir both tell me I'm from somewhere called Imladris, but I couldn't tell you any stories of it. Maybe Legolas or Hal..." He cast a glance to the March Warden before quickly limiting his words. "Maybe Legolas could tell you about where I'm from, though?" And the minute the words left his lips, Aram had skittered over to the smiling blonde elf, hopping on the bed beside him, reaching for the elegant hand of the archer.
"Would you? T'Me and Daine?" he begged, briefly remembering his sister in a moment of clarity. It was all Silathil could do not to burst out laughing as he watched his youngest friend's antics with the elves.
When the child repeated the name of his city, Haldir turned to look over at them, his attention focusing upon them as Silathil was asked where he was from. With the grace of his Elven blood, he'd managed to squirm free of the question, and sent the child running to Legolas, who was more than happy to welcome him, by patting the bed.
"If it is what pleases Silathil, I would be happy to tell you and your sister about Imladris." Legolas assured the boy, allowing him to take his hand, in turn, laying his other over his. "And if you've a map of Middle Earth, I can show you where we are all from."
Haldir made a motion to a small pouch on the bed he'd set his things on, and then leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. "I have a map in there." He informed them, a bored tone to his voice. "I also have Lembas, if you feel the need to go into a long dialogue about that later." He smirked slightly, his eyes sparkling as Legolas sent a dangerously funny look his way. It was becoming more than obvious that they said things to try and goad each other on.
Silathil watched the exchange between elves and overly excited human with mirth, hiding a chuckle at the idea that Haldir actually had the sense of humor to knock a sibling out of a tree (for he certainly didn't come across as having an ounce of laughter within his body when he first met him) before following the questions Aram pressed upon Legolas. He nodded softly as the slender elf offered to bestow tales of Silathil's own homeland, his own expression turning slightly wistful.
"I think I'd enjoy hearing such stories as well, if Legolas doesn't mind telling three avid listeners instead of just two." He cast a light wink toward Aram, who seemed amazed at all that was happening around him, then rose to stand by Haldir's side, raising a brow at the fair-locked being as if to say, 'See, he's not so bad.' And it was true. Aram had a curiosity and ability to learn that few humans possessed, whether it be because of Silathil's influence or simply because he was young.
Daine showed signs of it as well, though she was more resigned than her younger brother. For the moment, though, Aram was content to give Legolas a thorough questioning, starting with the mention of a map of Middle Earth.
Legolas looked from Haldir, and to Silathil, his expression softening considerably as he gave a bow of his head. "It would be my honor, Silathil, to reacquaint you with your home land, and your people." he assures him gently, before turning to regard Aram again, who was already babbling excitedly to the Mirkwood elf.
"People live in places outside of Gondor... and Rohan? We have a few maps of that, but... no one's ever traveled further than that, really... at least, not from this town." Silathil only nodded softly to confirm what Aram had said. Indeed, it often wasn't worth the effort to travel far from their sleepy village. As he let Legolas answer Aram's questions, he turned to Haldir, offering a curious quirk of brows. "I'd like to look at that map, as well... maybe seeing where these places are will bring about memories?"
"Yes. There are many places outside of Gondor and Rohan. These two cities make up but a corner of Middle Earth. North of Rohan lays Lothlorien, and north east of there is where my home was..." As Legolas went on to needlessly give directions to these places, Haldir turned his attention to the dark haired Princeling beside him. "I shall show you." He agreed, moving to his bed to open his bag, getting out a worn and folded map. He set it aside, and moved his things to the bed beside him before sitting down and motioning to the foot of the bed for Silathil to sit there.
"How you got this far south, I know not." he said as he spread the map open on the space that would be between them. "I can only assume you were hunting Orcs, as it is what you and your brother often did, to avenge your mother. However, the last Elladan saw of you was here..." He pointed to Grey Wood. "Just north of Minas Tirith. This was your home, over here..." He traced his finger due north west to the top of the Misty Mountains.
"Imladris, also called Rivendell in the tongue of man, is located in the mountains here. It is where you grew up, and where you often returned to before you disappeared. Lothlorien is here. Your grandparents resided there, but they have long since sailed over the sea to the undying lands." Haldir paused and looked up to Silathil to see if any of this was reckoning within his mind. Unfortunately, while he was hopeful, he didn't imagine any of it would.
Silathil could hear Aram's chatter, questioning Legolas of everything from Lembas to archery to the braids each elf wore in their hair, though his focus was upon Haldir as the map was unfolded and cast between them. He located Imladris, Mirkwood, and Lothlorien quite quickly, as if he knew, somehow, where they were... even without Haldir's gesturing. He would mention that later, though. Right now, he kept his attention on the elder's voice, soaking in the information given to him. Grandparents. Flashes of golden hair and merry laughter darted before his mind, but nothing more than that, which frustrated him ever more.
Slim digits traced the borders of Lothlorien, shaking his head slowly and sadly before his vision lifted to focus on Imladris. It was situated on the side of the Misty Mountains, but he couldn't bring images to his mind. Nothing. It was as if he reached for the thoughts, the emotions and pictures and the memories would skitter away, just out of reach.
"I can't... Haldir, I can't remember... I know there is something to remember, but it eludes my attempts to recall, as it always has." He sighed faintly, leaning back before fingers brushed over the area once known as Mirkwood. "I know this, though... this is Mirkwood... the home of Legolas..." And it was all he could say... the only thing he could recall without even trying. "I wish I could recall more, but it is like trying to grasp smoke. It simply slips through my fingertips... only showing me glimpses at night in my dreams."
Haldir could see Elrohir trying to remember. Could see as recognition would almost light in his eyes, and them fade away dim, leaving him cold and frustrated. He couldn't imagine the turmoil he must be feeling to have these two creatures come into his life out of the blue, and change everything in a matter of a few passionately spoken words. Everything he'd become now was changing, even as he tried to hold onto it because it was all he knew. If only he would come home with them, surely his mind could be healed. If only Elrond had remained longer. If only Celeborn had come. Surely the Valar wouldn't leave him in this state. There had to a purpose for this all.
What about Arwen? Still she lingered in Minas Tirith, mourning the passing of Aragorn, fading slowly, just as Elrond had warned her. Legolas spoke of seeing her recently, how she walked as a veiled figure in black through the halls of the citadel, only her son bringing her comfort. But she would not take Legolas as a visitor the last time he'd gone. And Haldir doubted that even if they could convince Elrohir to travel there with them, it would be too late.
"There must be a way." Haldir whispered aloud. "You remember Mirkwood...surely somehow the rest will come. Maybe hearing of your family and your story in time will trigger the memories in your mind." He reached out and clasped a hand over his shoulder. "I will help as much as I can. You are the only reason I still linger here - because of a promise I made to your grandfather to find you, and bring you home. But now I see it will not be so easy as he had hoped." He offered him a slight smile and leaned back, then sat up straight once more as he looked over to Legolas and Aram. Legolas was standing with his bow, pretending to shoot orcs as his mouth ran a mile a minute, telling the boy a story of battle.
While Haldir watched Legolas, Silathil - or Elrohir - whoever he was, let everything Haldir said settle within his mind. He was thought to be dead, that much was known. His brother, whoever he was, grieved every day to know he was dead. His family had nearly all but given up on him! But he could not blame them. Centuries, even to an elf, is a long time to be missing. An idea fluttered through his head as he glanced toward Haldir, following his gaze to rest on two animated figures, one poised with a bow, the other bouncing in enthusiasm on the bed he sat upon, eyes light with delight as he listened to the tale Legolas was spinning for him. Whether or not it was true made little matter to him - the elf made it real, regardless.
"Messenger birds. Can ... can my brother be reached by them? Is there a way to instruct a bird to fly to him?" He blurted the words out as he watched Aram and Legolas, the idea fluttering in his mind. Though he'd not managed to waver those birds with a set course trained into them, there were a few birds without a specific location to fly to that he'd been able to direct... though only to a close location. They'd listened to him, somehow, before... perhaps Haldir or Legolas had a better ability than he concerning birds? It might be worth a try. "We could at least inform him that I'm alive... for I believe you that I am who you say... though I have no memory of it. I do not want any to grieve because of me, and to know that someone is pains me."
"I know not if any bird in your forest could make that trip." Haldir replied to him truthfully. "The skies over the white mountains are cruel with cold, and to go around..." He paused then, looking off again towards Legolas, but not directly at him as he sat in thought. What could it hurt to try it? Surely if a bird would be willing to try to make the trip, there was no need to not send a message. Maybe they could play pass along? Legolas had hopped up on a banister, was swaying as he aimed his bow down towards his feet to show that whatever he'd been standing on was moving.
"The Troll was trying to shake me off, was swinging his club at Boromir, and Aragorn. The Hobbits were scattered, and I could hardly keep them in sight!" he was saying, obviously telling him part of the tale of the Fellowship. It was a well known tale, even now. Traveling story tellers told it often when they came into towns, but they could not tell it as well as someone that was truly there. Haldir again looked to Silathil, drowning the other elf out easily.
"We can try the bird messenger, but the bird has to be willing to go a long distance," he finally said. "It is some 5oo leagues from here, and that is if you go straight up through the mountains. To go around would be double that. Probably even more."
Silathil frowned softly at Haldir's first words - he had to admit that few birds could handle the cold of the White Mountains, though he chuckled lightly as attention was given to the elf wriggling upon the banister. Aram, for his part, was enrapt with the tale, for though a few stories of the Fellowship and the War of the Ring reached here, they were few and far between.
As Haldir spoke once more, his attention refocused, thoughts whirling within his mind. Suddenly, he started, his eyes flickering up to meet those of the March Warden, a bright grin taking his features, lighting his face as it hadn't been lit in over three centuries.
"Dol Amroth! We can send word there... they have messenger birds that can carry messages to Minas Tirith... Surely King Aragorn had birds trained in his lifetime to converse with Lórien...?" It was a far reach, but one that had to be made. By bird, the message could reach Lothlorien in less than two weeks... much shorter a time that it would take to convince Silathil/Elrohir to travel with Legolas and Haldir, leaving the only family he knew. His brother's grief could then be eased, and would buy them all some time to get used to the situation they were all in. "Please tell me the current King still converses with the elves as his father had... for it seems it is our only hope of sending word out from here. I cannot leave, Haldir… not so soon. I can not abandon the people who have kept me safe, much less Aram and Daine."
Haldir gave a nod of his head in agreement to Silathil/Elrohir's words. "Indeed his did have messenger birds, for your sister sent messages often by them. She lingers still there, so I am willing to bet the birds do as well," he told him matter-of-factly. "If she is still well, she will be glad to know that you are alive and safe. What shall I say to your brother, then, Lord Silathil? This is something you must think of, for surely he will try to come to you if he believes you alive. If you want him not to, we need to tell him so in the message." Haldir became quiet then, to let Silathil decide what he wants.
Legolas, on the other hand, was far from quiet, holding a broom up like a wizard's staff as he told the tale of Gandalf falling into shadow. "Mithrandir fought brave against the Balrog, destroying the bridge, and then fell into shadow so that we may go on unharmed." It was there that Legolas paused his tale, a look of sentimentality alight on his face as he let out a sigh and sat once more on the bed, reaching up to stroke some of Aram's hair from his lit face. "I think I will end there," he chuckled. "If I have to retell this to your sister, I would hate to repeat more than that, and there is much more to come." He offered him a playful wink.
The dark-locked elf shook his head slowly, still uncertain of the title Haldir bestowed upon him. Lord. He was no Lord here! Silence lingered, broken only by the musical tones of Legolas telling his story, acting it out with a grace only the elves could possibly possess, slowing to a stop. Aram was simple enchanted with the tale the youthful-appearing elf had told, and sat there gaping in awe at him as the story sunk in.
Silathil smiled gently then, both at the younger lad and more sadly so at Haldir's words. "I do not know what to tell him, for though I would wish to meet him, I think it wise to wait till I am ready to do so. If I ever regain some of my memory, preferably after I do. My current lack of a past would more than likely shock him at best..." He seemed almost dejected at the realization, casting an almost haunted look over his companion's face. "I would have him told that though I'm alive, not to hope too greatly... I know not if I'll ever manage to regain my past, though I hope it will return to me in time." He almost whispered the words, glancing the fair elf before him over once more, wishing now that he could again be held... again be allowed to release the emotions that bubbled inside him. But he would not even consider doing so with Aram there, for the child had never once seen him so upset, and he was certain the picture he would make would be very alarming. "But... I will visit him the moment I have a chance to... that much I promise. And my sister, if she'll allow it."
"I know what to say to ease his mind." Haldir agreed to assure the other, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze before carefully refolding his map and handing it to Legolas, who now listened to them in a much more quiet state. The fair Prince took the map and set it in the pocket of his own pouch for later reference, nodding his head in thanks. "I shall bring the map to dinner," he promised the boy, smiling. "And then I will tell you and your sister tales afterward. It shall be an interesting night, indeed."
Haldir had to agree with that. What would these people think to know they were housing an Elven Prince? Not only that, a son of the fabled Elven Warrior Elrond Peredhil, Lord of Imladris? Surely story tellers told tales of that great battle where High Elven King Gil-Galad died, and Isildur took the ring from the hand of Sauron. Yes. Tonight would be interesting. He could only hope all went well and that this ended in a compromise they could all be happy with.
Legolas could not have said anything better to Aram. The boy appeared as joyful as if you'd told him he'd be getting his own pony! But time was growing late. Silathil sent Aram back downstairs after a few more minutes, mainly to check to see how long it would be till dinner. With the horses already taken care of there was little to do till the next morning, save to attempt to entertain the two elves, who were still somewhat strangers to him. Luckily, he didn't have to wait very long. Daine had been sent to fetch the three, poking her head in the same bashfulness her brother first displayed, blushing slightly as she regarded the two new elves before turning her attention to Silathil. "Momma says supper's ready, if you and your guests are hungry." And before any of them could ask a question, she'd scampered down the stairs and to the main house, too shy to stick around just yet.
Elrohir/Silathil offered a light upturn of his lips, gesturing toward the staircase with false grandiose, arching a brow almost teasingly. Was he getting comfortable with them already? "Shall we?" He had to literally bite upon his tongue to stop himself from laughing, though the glimmer in his eyes gave his jesting emotions away. Yes, despite all that happened, he was in a rather incredibly good mood. After all, he'd just discovered there were other elves out there!
Haldir had been sitting gracelessly on his bed, slumped back on an elbow with one foot in the floor, the other propped upon the bed beside him. Casually, he reached over to pull at a broom, toying with it lightly for a moment or two before getting a rather wicked idea in his head. He reached over with his free arm, and poked Legolas in the ear with a straw worked free from the cleaning instrument. Legolas, who had been going through his arrows and looking at the line of their shaft to see if any were warped, reached up every so often with an irritated pout to bat the straw away.
"Daro, Haldir," he griped finally, turning to glare at him, only to jerk his head back slightly as the straw went conveniently up his nose.
"Give it to me!" He spat in irritation, snatching the straw away from the Marchwarden's grip and throwing it in the floor. Haldir was smiling fully, ducking away should he try to retaliate with anything, glancing over to give a wink to their Elven host.
And then the girl had come, announcing dinner. Legolas was quick to stand, setting his quiver aside as he cut a look to his blonde companion before he smiled to Silathil. He was glad to see that he was more comfortable with them.
Haldir sat up and reached out to brush his hair back as he watched Silathil make his sweeping motion to the stairs, and then as Legolas went past him with a maidenly bow. "Thank you, kind sir." He piped before hopping gracefully down the stairs with out a sound.
Haldir was shortly to follow, arching a brow. "He's almost too good at that," he teased before he descended as well.
Silathil's chuckle could not be held back at the Marchwarden's comment, eyes dancing with delight - for in truth, Haldir was right. Legolas could imitate a female quite well if he tried to, as he just proved regardless of his intentions.
But overly feminine elves aside, they were all hungry and so toward the main house they headed, eager for full stomachs and pleasant conversation.