Chapter Ten: Past and Present
Despite the weariness of the grief-stricken Fellowship, Haldir forced them on through Lothlórien, further away from the orcs and goblins that would be certain to follow them from Moria. Frodo and the other Hobbits staggered with exhaustion, their bare feet aching, despite the cool forest floor beneath. They were not the only ones to openly show their exhaustion; everyone was noticeably slower and breathing harder.
Several times, Aragorn tried to persuade Haldir to allow them to rest, but the Elf was adamant that they could not. There was no trace of an apology in his tone, but his pace did slacken somewhat to let them catch up. Despite this, Aragorn and Boromir both deliberately slowed to help the Hobbits, their determined expressions forestalling any arguments from Haldir or any of the other Elves. Gimli, for his part, seemed to be coping quite well with the journey, though he grumbled the whole way about "pointy ears" and shot dark looks at the Elves. Legolas, Frodo noted, was looking much better, though he did stumble occasionally. The other Elves kept close to him, evidently worried.
At last, Haldir allowed them to rest on a hill, Aragorn informed him, that was called Cerin Amroth. Frodo couldn't help but notice the far-away look in his eyes and wondered what he was thinking of. The Fellowship scattered themselves on the grass, grateful for a rest after their long day. It was starting to catch up with them all.
Merry and Pippin were leaning against each other, looking dazed and ready to drop off to sleep in a heartbeat. Sam was busy sorting through his pack for something, trying to keep busy, Frodo guessed. Gimli and Boromir were deep in conversation and Aragorn had wandered a little away from the group, lost in his thoughts as he passed Legolas, who was sitting surrounded by softly chattering Elves.
Watching Legolas, Frodo realised that he looked rather uncomfortable among those he should view as kin. Frodo felt a stab of pity for him; Legolas had kept himself apart from most of the Fellowship during their journey so far, always looking strangely awkward when asked to relax and talk as part of the whole group. Frodo suspected that the Elf was more accustomed to solitude than large groups, and being fussed over by the Elves of Lothlórien was probably testing his patience. But still, he was suffering through it silently, refusing food and drink and not allowing himself to be drawn into conversation. If Frodo didn't know better, he would have said that Legolas looked rather flustered by all the attention, but that couldn't be right, Elves didn't get flustered. Then again, he thought, remembering the sudden outburst of anger Legolas had displayed just a few hours ago, that wasn't normal for Elves either. He was probably just upset about Gandalf, Frodo reasoned. However, noting the now-familiar strain in Legolas's face and the slight shaking in his hands, Frodo wondered if it was maybe something more. It reminded him strongly of the first time he'd met him, the night before the Council, after dinner…
*.*.*.* Flashback *.*.*.*
He'd spent the evening in a quiet, thoughtful mood, listening and observing his companions rather than actively participating in their conversations. However, the buzz of talk and the somewhat stifling heat of the hall began to wear on him and, begging the forgiveness of his friends, he left the hall to seek the cool fresh air outside.
Leaning against a railing, he looked up at the night sky, smiling at the swirling waves of deep purple clouds on a sea of blue and black, sparkling with the gentle light of a thousand stars. How long he stood there, musing on past memories and journeys still to come, he was unsure but he was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of voices in the courtyard below him.
From his vantage point above, Frodo could see the two people that entered the courtyard fairly clearly, aided by the many soft lanterns that were dotted around. One was a Man, that much was clear initially and it took Frodo several moments to actually recognise him as Aragorn. He looked so different out of the Wild. Since coming to Rivendell, Frodo had not seen much of the Ranger, who always seemed to be very busy.
The other was an Elf, unknown to Frodo, which wasn't unusual – he was very new to Rivendell and could not have possibly met everyone, especially with new people arriving every day. There was something odd about this particular Elf though, something that set Frodo slightly on edge. He couldn't take his eyes off him and yet barely noticed, as the Ring grew slightly heavier on its chain, as if trying to pull away from him. The Elf was walking very closely with Aragorn, almost brushing against him as they crossed to a bench to sit. He was somewhat lacking in a normal Elf's effortless grace and his face was pale and drawn – as if he'd been ill and had only just recovered. Did Elves even get ill, Frodo wondered as he watched the pair talking with the familiarity of old friends.
After a few minutes, Aragorn looked up and smiled in surprise as he spotted Frodo. He waved, indicating for Frodo to come down and join them. Frodo hesitated for a moment before nodding and running down to the courtyard. He stopped a few feet away, suddenly unsure again. The Ring felt hot and heavy around his neck, making him very uneasy.
"Don't be shy, Frodo," Aragorn urged, beckoning him forward. "This is Legolas, a very old friend of mine. He'll be at the Council tomorrow. Legolas, this is Frodo Baggins, our most important guest at the moment."
Frodo flushed in embarrassment. Legolas gave a faint smile and looked at Frodo with a blank disconcerting stare. "Pleased to meet you, Frodo Baggins."
"And you, Legolas." Frodo was unnerved by the Elf's stare. It was almost like he wasn't seeing Frodo at all.
"I've heard that name before, Baggins…Quite a while ago though," Legolas remarked casually.
"Perhaps you've met my uncle, Bilbo," Frodo suggested. Legolas looked puzzled for a moment and conferred quietly with Aragorn in Elvish.
"Of course," Legolas laughed suddenly. "I remember hearing the stories. Bilbo Baggins and all those Dwarves that upset my father so."
His father? Frodo was getting more and more confused by the second. Just who was this Elf? Aragorn, thankfully, came to his rescue.
"Legolas is the son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood," Aragorn explained. "The same Elven King your uncle mentions in his story, Frodo."
"You're his son?" Frodo asked, surprised. Legolas nodded, smiling.
"His third son actually. I'm here to represent Mirkwood at the Council. We have grave news to report." His smile faded and he turned his head to look up at the sky.
The silence stretched awkwardly. Now that he was much closer, Frodo could see signs of strain in Legolas's face and noted his clenched, trembling hands.
"Are you all right, Legolas?"
"I'm fine. I've been…ill the past few days."
His surprise must have shown on his face because Aragorn laughed.
"Yes, Elves get ill, just like us mere mortals," Aragorn said teasingly. Frodo felt his face grow more red. Aragorn turned his attention to Legolas, his mirth dying as he studied his friend.
"Mellon nin," he muttered. "Frodo is right. You do not look good. Would you like me to fetch Lord Elrond?" Legolas shook his head.
"I'm fine. It's not so bad. I can control it." His voice shook slightly, betrayed his calming words. Aragorn looked alarmed. Abruptly, Legolas doubled over, gripping in head in both hands. "It shouldn't be like this here. I don't understand!"
"Frodo! Get Gandalf and Lord Elrond! Run!" Aragorn ordered. Frodo didn't need telling twice. He ran back to the stairs to fetch help.
*.*.*.* End Flashback *.*.*.*
It wasn't until the day following the Council that Frodo had found out the story behind Legolas's "illness" and that it had been the sudden presence of the Ring that had triggered such a violent response from the Spirit inside Legolas. Since then, it seemed Legolas had grown more accustomed to its presence, but not enough that he could be close to Frodo for long periods of time.
"ENOUGH!"
Frodo jumped, startled as Legolas's voice pierced the still, quiet air. He looked up to see him pushing his way out of a crowd of suddenly baffled Elves.
"Just leave me be!"
Legolas shoved his way free of their restraining hands and bolted for the trees, disappearing in seconds.
"Legolas!" Aragorn shouted, shocked at his friend's behaviour. He turned on the other Elves, anger showing in his eyes but his voice was tempered and controlled. "What did you do?"
"Nothing! He just…he was fine, then angry," explained one Elf, clearly unused to using the Common Tongue. The rest of the Elves started trying to explain the situation in their native Elvish, chattering far too fast for Frodo to follow.
Aragorn shook his head and headed towards the trees to go after Legolas. The lead Elf, Haldir, grabbed hold of his arm.
"We will take care of our own."
Aragorn pulled his arm free. "You've done a terrible job so far. Besides, he's not "your own" anymore. He's one of us." He stared disapprovingly at the Elves and then started off again. Haldir did not try and stop him.
Frodo exchanged shocked looks with the remaining members of the Fellowship. No one looked tired anymore; too stunned by Legolas's total lack of composure and sudden departure. Suddenly, Gimli let out a snort and shook his head.
"Good on Legolas. Those pointy-ears would drive anyone mad with all that daft fussing they were doing. To be honest, I'm surprised he lasted that long."
There you are then, another chapter at long last. I would insert my usual rambling apology but you've heard it all before. I hope you enjoyed this new chapter though and I'll get cracking on the next. (Eventually...)