Dedication: (Yes. I dedicate stuff.) This one's for Eruaistaniel for being the first reviewer of this story. Thanks!


CHAPTER TWO


A dozen voices lifted in the air as the elves sang together in the night. Only the harp accompanied their melodies. As Legolas listened, his eyes slowly drifted close, thoughts floating away with the notes that were being sung. Most nights he would sing with the mass, but there was something about this gathering that garnered a deeper sense of listening. In the mixture of voices, he heard a collection of stories from elves of different background and age.

From here and there were clinks of goblets and silverware, from those who still had food on their plates.

They had just finished feasting.

Legolas had long wondered about this gathering. But he was not the only one. The others had questioned his father again and again, needing to know why they had to do this, why they had to do it here. Rivendell and Lothlorien were bigger, wider, more renowned and easier to travel to. When the other elves had arrived earlier in the day, they flocked to the king's chambers again, repeatedly asking the same question: Why here? And what purpose did this gathering serve?

As always, Thranduil sat patiently, listening to their qualms, before he finally spoke up. And he said only three words, "It is needed."

Even Legolas, who usually understood what his father wanted to say, was left confused. When the council had left, dissatisfied and muttering, he stayed behind with the king.

"What did you mean, ada?"

It was a while before Thranduil answered, but Legolas waited, as his father knew he would. Legolas was a patient elf, and wise. Thranduil had seen it in his son even in his younger years. In all the battles, small or big, that he had sent Legolas to, the prince had always come back victorious. And the warriors who went with him had only praises for him. There was a knowledge and fierceness in him that led him to be the elf he was now. Yet despite all that, Thranduil was worried. His son was still young, and there was something coming. He did not know when, but it was a gloom that he had not seen in years, not since the One Ring. And he could only hope that Legolas would be prepared for whatever it was. "You have felt it," he said simply, after moments of contemplation.

Legolas nodded. All of them did. The darkness. And a constant whisper of evil that floated in the wind. There was uneasiness among all creatures. And restlessness among the orcs. They had been moving quickly, transferring from place to place in the months past. Not only in the forest. Several villages of men had been attacked. Or at least, those were what the reports said.

"Now, more than ever, we have to seek our own kind," his Father said quietly, cutting off his thoughts. "Now, while there is time. And there are matters we have to attend to, face to face with our own kin. Words placed on paper are too fragile and dangerous."

This was not the answer he had anticipated, but Legolas knew that there was nothing else he would hear about the matter. Still he waited, knowing that their conversation had not yet ended. If his father had nothing else to say, then he would have been dismissed.

"You will attend the council meeting with me tonight," his father instructed, after a quiet pause.

"Yes, father," he replied.

Thranduil looked at him then, and nodded, "We will see each other again then," he instructed.

Legolas nodded at the king, before turning to walk away. He was heading for the door when his father spoke again. "I know it is difficult. I am sure you keep in mind of this day..." his voice trailed, and immediately Legolas stopped in his tracks.

He did not expect that his father would mention her. He had not, after all, mentioned her in many years, although they would visit her grave when he was younger. When Legolas looked back at the elf sitting on his throne, he saw a facade of strength and authority, but also of a dying form long left alone. And sadness. He could see it in his eyes. It had been a long time since he had seen that emotion in his father's face. It was the same look that graced his features when they had found out about his mother's death. But it did not last long, the look faded and Thranduil's stolid mask returned again.

"Soon, you will also get married," he said, and Legolas turned away, trying to hide the anger that he was sure would be clearly etched on his face. He did not appreciate the way his father had shifted the attention on his situation.

"Soon, but not now," Legolas answered curtly, and he continued towards the door.

"Legolas," his father called out, before he could fully leave him in his throne room. He inclined his head to show that he was listening. "Try to enjoy the night."

And try he did. Waking himself from his reverie, he looked around, and saw dozens of elves doing exactly what he was trying to do. He was seated at a round table, with others that he had known since childhood. Many of them, like everyone else around, were telling tales of bravery and peace and romance. The songs had ended and now stories hummed through the night. Through the candlelight, he could see their animated faces.

"You look tired, prince," a voice called beside him, and he looked to see Aegnir settle himself on the chair beside his.

Legolas smiled. "I was only thinking," he said. Almost no elf knew that this was the day his mother had died. It was not in elves to linger in the past. Remember, yes; but never to revel in the pain and regret.

"It is a peaceful night," Aegnir commented, smiling with the joyful tune that was being played by the harp.

"It is," he agreed. He could see that the elves were enjoying themselves tonight. The darkness seemed to have gone, even if temporarily. He couldn't explain why there was such happiness. Was it because of the large amount of gathering? The music? Or was it just because there was such a sense of oneness in the air? Whatever the reason, it just felt different, and more peaceful. Somehow, now that he had contemplated about it, maybe he really could find joy this night. The way the music drifted in the air, the way the trees almost moved with the tunes, the way a thousand conversations mixed together to create one constant hum was beautiful. "It's beautiful," he commented, and then he remembered their conversation earlier. "Beauty. Was this not what you said you were seeking?"

Aegnir smiled, as if he had awaited this mention. "Ah, yes. Beauty. There was something I was meaning to inquire with you," he turned in his seat stretching his neck as he scanned through the crowds. Then, he stopped, seemingly spotting what he had been looking for. "There were no introductions at the gate, when the elves arrived. But it was easy to distinguish Lords Elrond and Celeborn, and of course, the Lady Galadriel," he said.

Legolas agreed quietly. For the higher elves, there was no need for words. Even without their adornments, it was easy to see how different they were from the rest. They glowed of power, of years of experience, and most especially, of knowledge.

"But the Lady Arwen," he faltered, but the words had already been spoken. "Well..." he hesitated again.

"You couldn't find her," Legolas finished for him, understanding. Aegnir seemed taken by the idea of the elvenstar.

Aegnir nodded, "But they spoke of beauty, of eyes that cut like a blade but were soft and understanding and—," he paused. "I am not sure if she was Arwen, but I saw a she-elf who stood apart from the others," he explained.

"If she was fair enough to catch your attention from the rest of the crowd, then she might just be the one," Legolas told him. "Can you show her to me?" he asked.

"There, she's—," the younger elf, stopped, his finger pointed but arm not fully raised. "She was..." he looked around again, "Ah!" he exclaimed, smiling."There," he said, gesturing to an open area by the trees. "There, between the two children. She's..." His voice faded, unsure.

Legolas turned to look. The first thing he noticed was her hair. It reminded him of a sunset he had seen in Harlindon, years and years before. It was the color of the sky, just before the sun touched the horizon in the west. A reddish orange hue that lit up even the waters that stretched on and on. It was a shade of hair color he rarely saw in elves. She was standing between two youths, two dark haired elves who were clenching their fists, their feet firmly rooted on the ground. Her back was turned to Legolas, and she raised her hands as if to stop the two elves from moving. Their eyes were narrowed at each other and he could see that they were frowning angrily at each other. Then, she spoke—Legolas knew by the way the two young elves turned their attention to her, and the way her hands moved in gesture. He wondered what she was saying, until he saw one of the young elves slowly relax his shoulders, listening to what she said. Soon enough, he nodded at her and walked away. She turned to the other child, then, taking his—

"Mellonamin," a voice said, stealing his attention from the affair he had been watching.

He looked curiously from the source, and smiled as he saw his friend standing beside him, her lips also curved upwards. "Arwen," he said, "it has been too long," he greeted her, rising to hold his friend's hand.

"It was difficult to seek you. It is a bit crowded tonight," she commented, also gripping his hand. "How have you been?" she asked him.

"Same as all the yesterdays past," he pulled an empty seat for her.

She thanked him, and sat down, while glancing behind him towards Aegnir. "Your friend?" she asked.

Legolas nodded, moving his chair so the two may see each other. Here, finally, was the elf Aegnir had been searching for. "Aegnir, son of Hadron, here is Lady Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond, and fairest of the Rivendell elves," he smiled, while Arwen softly shook her head.

"You say such wonderful things," she told him, while smiling at Aegnir. "It has been a pleasure to step into your castle,"

"And it has been an honour to receive the Lady," Aegnir bowed politely, his eyes widening in contained admiration.

"I saw you by the gates, when we arrived," Arwen replied, to which Aegnir also carried the conversation on.

But Legolas did not hear what he said next, his attention was stolen by the flicker of reddish orange at the far side of the glade.

END OF CHAPTER


A/N: Anyway, again, I'll be really thankful for constructive critisicms.

Leave them in the review dearies.

Vee

Edited: 11/14