Hey guys! Sorry for so long a wait. I've been busy with college for a while and didn't have much inspiration for writing this story. However I found a game called "Hobbit: Kingdoms of Middle Earth" for my Android and it's been really fun to play, so I've finally gotten the inspiration I needed to continue. Also helping with that was the fact that I read over the old chapters and felt like there was some things I could add, as well as a few other things that I could do to stay a little bit closer to the canon.
Shout outs to everyone who's following, has dropped a favorite, and everyone reading! You make this possible!
Again, music helps me feel inspired to write, though with this LOTR story I try to listen to Epic Orchestral Music to stay in the kind of mood to write this story. If you find any good songs or ones please let me know so I can look it up later and hopefully be inspired to write even more. Thanks, and enjoy this chapter.
Legolas awoke with a pounding head and a little confused. He couldn't remember where he was at first, or how he had gotten there at all. Then with a start the knowledge came crashing back down on him. The stone! He sat up quickly and looked around, nearly knocking poor Angrod off the bed where he had been dozing and watching over him. The wolf wagged his tail at the Elf Prince and panting at him to assure him that everything was going to be alright.
Legolas shook his head a little. He knew that it had been Sauron's presence within that orb, but even though he was far away and his powers were weak within it, it should have had enough power to drag him into the darkness. How on earth had he suddenly become so resilient to it? Perhaps it was his new found determination and fiery spirit. Perhaps the light of Angrod and the Wizard had helped him somehow. Or perhaps his own light was growing stronger once again even though the darkness pulled at his heart. Maybe he was steadily growing strong though it should have been impossible.
The Elf sighed, looking around the room. He couldn't tell how long he'd been out. Probably a few days at least. He was sure that his friends would be greatly worried about him, but he was fine, though a little confused as to how. The idea gave him a little hope. Maybe he did have the strength in his heart after all to survive such a perilous quest, even if only a small one.
The sounds of the great hall father away told him that there was a great celebration taking place, so he assumed it was night. He smiled a little at the sound of laughter and music that he could hear. It seemed so good to hear some jubilation through all of the darkness that had been faced here. He could feel that the air seemed lighter than it had in many years. It just seemed so full of light. The very air made him feel good, and though his head was still swimming a little, he stood.
Angrod watched the elf closely so he wouldn't do more harm to himself, but Legolas seemed to be doing alright, so he let him be. The Elf stretched, testing his still sore muscles and shaking some of the sleep out of his limbs and head. He felt a little too rested to be honest, and he was ready to be out and about again. Besides, his friends would want to see him again.
Quickly the elf bathed and cleaned the grime away from his skin, noticing now that his skin was seeming much more well tended and more like the fair folk so far away. He had remembered the daily routine he had used to go through before going out, and his skin was once again glowing and healthy, the same that people of all races had grown to envy. He had remembered his pride of being a Prince and of being an elf. His hair was combed and fell straight and perfect as it had used to, seeming much more cared for as well. Though he could not see it, its color shone brightly in the light, giving the air a warm golden glow. It was a beautiful color.
He went then to his clothes that were in the pile. They had been mended, washed and dried expertly and with great care. He ran his hands through them. He shouldn't just wear what he normally did. This was a celebration after all. However he found some silken garments. They were the same that he had worn in Lothlorien. He smiled to himself a little. Galadriel had let nothing slip past. He moved these aside as well, realizing that it would be far too lavish for such a simple hall. He didn't really want to stand out, and he didn't want to be too noticeable. He was already that way enough.
He at last found some of the more casual style clothes that he had brought from his father's court for some reason he wasn't quite sure of. He had been in despair then, but now he was glad he had them and that he was suddenly so full of life. They were a darker green color, like most of the clothing that the people of Mirkwood seemed to prefer. They weren't apposed to wearing other colors, but life in the trees of darkness made them wary to be seen within their domain. Now outside of the dark trees of Mirkwood, they seemed too dark for the fair elf of high breeding. His face and body seemed far to fair to be in clothes so dark, but he preferred it this way. Men were often envious of elves and their beautiful bodies. This way there would be less envy because it would be less painfully obvious that he was fairer than they.
He pulled on the clothes and the boots, preparing to go outside of the room again and face the people outside. He was sure that most of them now didn't hold it against him for his peculiar way of acting and speaking to them, but he also knew that some would never truly accept him. He was just too strange for them. However he hoped that if given enough time he would grow more like his old self, and one that people wouldn't have to fear. Now in his better looking clothes, he turned towards the wolf with a smile.
"Time to go again," he said. "Let's hope our friends were patient enough to leave some merrymaking for us."
The wolf seemed highly amused by the elf's reply, though he seemed very worried about him as well. The elf seemed fine, and much happier to be on his feet again. Much of the darkness that was on his heart seemed to have lifted now. He was much more relaxed and seemed much happier. The wolf was glad to see that change in him at least.
The elf made his careful way to the door, and then paused as he pushed it open. These halls that were usually bustling with activity at least from the servants in the King's hall were nearly deserted. All except Eowyn who had been hurrying along to see how the elf was doing. Her face lit up as she ran to him and pulled him into a hug. He laughed a little as he recognized the woman.
"You are awake," she cried happily, remembering herself and taking a step back. "I was just coming to see how you were. You have been asleep for two days. The darkness was hard on you, but your friends only feared for you once or twice. They knew of your strength."
"I am glad they had such faith in me," he replied. "But I am well, and I would like to stretch my legs and join with the Fellowship again."
"Are you sure you are fine enough to go?" She asked. He laughed again in his clear voice.
"I am fine," he said. "Angrod would not have let me out of the bed if he had not agreed. Besides, how can I know my limits now if I do not test them?"
"Fair enough," she replied with a smile. "Then allow me to accompany you back to the hall. The men and the king have been waiting nervously for your recovery. They had feared for you as well. You have done so much for our people after all!"
"It is nothing that I would have not done for my own," he replied. "I am a Prince after all. It is my duty."
"And a good King you would make too," she said with a smile.
"I thank you for your kind words," he replied.
For a while they were silent. They walked on towards the main body of the celebration, and their hearts were both glad and heavy. They were glad that Rohan had escaped destruction, but they knew that the war against Sauron was only beginning and that Rohan would be caught up in it just like every nation and every race in Middle Earth. They could not escape this if they tried. But tonight their gladness surfaced, for they had survived and the dawn that would rise seemed full of hope for a future that they had dared not look for.
Legolas suddenly thought for all of those that had fallen to this point, all trying to stop Sauron and his reign of darkness, even if they hadn't realized it. Some were from longer ago, like his Grandfather and those taking part in the Battle of the Five Armies. Some were more recent, like Boromir. He hoped that his small part in this whole plan, whatever that was, would help to make up for the wrongs that had been committed and allow the world to move again in the right direction. As long as there were those who would fight there would always be hope.
He thought suddenly of the Fellowship as well. They would be remembered throughout history, of that he was sure. Even if Sauron won and they were remembered as villains, they would be remembered. But if the free peoples of Middle Earth won then they would be hailed as heroes, even poor Boromir who had died so suddenly. He would not be remembered as well as he or Aragorn or Gandalf, and certainly not as much as Frodo and Sam. But he would be remembered and hailed as a hero none the less. Perhaps Legolas himself would be able to live to see that day, even if he was to leave to the homeland of his ancestors and never return. Perhaps he could hear the stories be told and tell them himself from his perspective. But he knew one thing for sure. Either way he would never forget the Fellowship, even long after their passing. He would see their memories in the stars. For they were bonded closer than brothers and those bonds would last through time.
Legolas mind was brought back to the present as they neared the great hall where the merrymaking was happening. Eowyn dismissed herself with a smile and ran off to once again play the dutiful hostess. The doors tonight were open to everyone, and many of the towns folk were here. The wolf slipped in front of the blind elf, and Legolas managed to follow even though there were many sounds around him, making it difficult for even the elf to hear much in the din. The elf brought him to Aragorn and Gandalf who quickly greeted their friend with smiles. He smiled as well.
"Back from the darkness again Thranduilion," the white wizard said. "I am glad to see that your strength remains. However I think we would all appreciate it if you would not so blindly fall into trouble." (Son of Thranduil)
"I would say that you are right," the elf replied in good humor. "But falling blindly into things is something I seem to have a talent for."
"That you do," the wizard laughed with Aragorn. "Still it is not wise."
"I will be more careful from now on Mithrandir," the elf promised. "Though I think we know that bad luck can befall anyone, even the oldest and wisest."
"That it can Thranduilion," Gandalf said. "That it can."
"Let us turn our minds away from such morbid thoughts for a while," Aragon said surprisingly grimly. "We will not have much time like this to think on less stressful things."
Legolas looked towards Aragorn a moment. He seemed rather on edge, and he suddenly sounded much older than Legolas thought his mortal frame was. He seemed worried about many things, and there was obviously a large weight settling onto his shoulders. Gandalf seemed to notice as well, and his brow furrowed a little in concern.
"It seems that your mind has never left these things," Legolas noted. "You should not let them trouble you. Tell me what is wrong. Saes, mellon-nin?" (Please my friend)
"No it is nothing," Aragorn tried to argue.
"It is not," Gandalf said wisely. "It would be better I think for you to tell someone. I am wise, but I think you know Legolas better. He often visited The Last Homely House after all in his better days. I will leave you alone to speak."
The old wizard turned and moved away through the crowd, leaving the blind elf alone with the man. Angrod who could understand them but not speak himself turned and followed the wizard, giving the man some privacy. Aragorn's frown deepened as he looked up towards the ceiling, trying to decide what he should do, if anything at all. Legolas waited patiently knowing that, as always, his friend would open his heart to him.
"It is difficult," the man began in elvish. "I cannot understand it all or take it in. We will be traveling to Gondor soon, of that I am sure. Sauron's movements worry me. They seem too laid back for one trying to conquer all of Middle Earth. What is he planning? And I am worried for you my friend. You have not fallen to darkness yet, but I would not be able to stand it if you did."
"Go on," the elf said patiently. There was some attention drawn to their conversation, but no one who could understand them was near enough to hear. Aragorn scuffed his boot worriedly on the floor.
"There is also the matter of me becoming the king," the man continued. "I do not wish this. I am afraid of being as weak as my forefathers. I too pine for Arwyn, but she is safe now, so my heart rests easily. I cannot love again though, for it belongs to another. And the lady of this house looks to me for such comforts."
"It is young love," the elf assured him. "She will find another yet. Give her the time she needs and the space. That will be enough I think."
"I worry greatly for Frodo and Sam as well," the man said. "And the peril they carry. Because of this I think of my own weakness of thinking of the throne and find myself somewhat of a coward. If two Hobbits can take the Ring to Mordor then I can be a king. Still, it is not something I look forward to. I wish this burden would pass from me."
"So do all who carry burdens," Legolas replied wisely. "Those both large and small. It is part of our weakness as those who walk the earth, and part of our strength."
"I carry much worry on my shoulders," the man sighed. "Far too much. But I thank you that you were here to listen to me my friend. You always have been there for me. It is a great comfort." The elf placed his hand over his heart in respect and also to tell the man that he felt him in his heart.
"That is what friends are for," the elf prince replied.
The man managed a small smile then, feeling much better now that he had allowed the elf to hear what had been bothering him for so long. The release of telling someone of his problems, and someone he knew and trusted well, was obviously great. Legolas could not see the smile, but he could tell that the air around the man seemed less stressed and more relaxed. The elf smiled at the man, and the two embraced arms in a friendly manner before releasing the other.
Suddenly to Legolas' amusement he noticed singing for the other end of the hall as the two Hobbits sang and danced as such happy folk were prone to doing, and downed several beers and ales while doing so. It was amusing to hear, and probably more so to watch. Then to his slight surprise the dwarf leaped forward towards his elvish friend.
"Come," he said.
He took the elf's arm before he could protest and dragged him off towards a table. The elf was completely confused and had no idea where he was going, but he had little choice but to follow the dwarf as he dragged him along. The dwarf was careful with his blind friend, always mindful of the fact that he could not see and was often buffeted violently by the people he could not see to avoid. He led him through the crowd and then deposited him at a table in one of the chairs. The elf looked quite confused as he heard a familiar voice from across the table.
"He got you too, elf?" Eomer asked, sounding both amused and annoyed. "I will never understand the friendship the two of you. Most elves and dwarves would hate each other and try to kill one another at the first chance they got. However these are odd times. Perhaps yet there is time for your two races."
"Perhaps," Legolas said in confusion as Gimli bustled to the other side of the table. "but I still have no idea why I was dragged away from my conversation with Aragorn to join the two of you."
Gimil soon answered his question for him though as he plopped down and handed the two of them pints of ale. He smiled broadly when the elf shook his head, both annoyed and amused by the antics of the dwarf. Eomer seemed just as amused and annoyed. The hardy dwarf sat down across from the elf and looked at both of them. Some thought that the friendship the elf and the dwarf had was already odd, and the dwarf also made it a point to treat the elf just as he would treat any of his other friends, even with the fact he that he was blind and part Wraith.
"A drinking contest," the dwarf announced. "You may beat me in every other competition we have elf, but you will not beat me today. Dwarves are notorious for being able to hold their liquor, and elves are not. I will beat you today."
"This is hard ale," Eomer observed. "You might have trouble stomaching this one master dwarf, let alone the elf as you said. This is quite a mighty challenge."
"Alright these are the rules," the dwarf continued. "No falling asleep and no throwing up."
The elf's ears were pricked suddenly at the sound of the rules. Not how much someone drank? He smiled a little to himself a moment and quickly concealed it unnoticed by either of his companions. The dwarf was right. He couldn't hold his liquor. But he was cunning as well as wise, and he had just found a way to win even though the dwarf could hold his liquor better.
"That sounds reasonable," the man said.
"Alright then," the dwarf said, excited at the prospect of beating the elf.
Legolas decided that he needed to let the dwarf know just how bad at holding his liquor he really was. He picked up the glass and took a tentative sip. Instantly his head began to buzz and the warmth of the liquid burned down his throat. He couldn't help but wince a little at that feeling rather than the taste of the ale.
"It is strange," he said. "I feel funny and my head is swimming. My body seems full of fire."
"See?" the dwarf laughed. "I told you he could not hold his liquor. Now begin!"
The dwarf began to drink huge gulps of the ale, excited to defeat his friend for once. It was just as Legolas had thought. He was going to show off, not at all seeing the fact that the elf was purposely taking very small sips so that he would last longer. The dwarf would soon drink so much that he would be drunk and unable to go on, ensuring that the elf won once again. The man too drank deeply of the rich ale and was unmindful of the elf's cautions.
Their little contest began to draw a crowd, who laughed and encouraged them onwards. They learned of the rules of the contest and cheered for the dwarf, unmindful of the elf and his slow drinking. Gimli and Eomer finished their first pint and called for a second, and then a third. This continued on, and Legolas had yet to even finish half of his pint. But Eomer's reckless pace soon caught up to him, and he fell into a doze on the table. The people watching laughed good in good humor, though it was obvious that their captain had drunk far too much. The dwarf peered up at the elf over his glass, the red in his face evident from the alcohol he had drunken.
"I am impressed elf," Gimli said, his words beginning to slur a little. "But you won't be beating me this time."
The elf only nodded to the dwarf, feeling the liquor already buzzing through his head. He wasn't going to give up easily. He knew that even at this rate it seemed certain that the dwarf would win. The people around him certainly seemed to think so, laughing and downing their own drinks while watching the dwarf finish another pint and call for his...what was this, tenth? On and on they seemed to drink. Legolas was beginning to feel sick and tired. Anything would be better than to continue to drink the ale. He wasn't going to be able to stomach much more of it. He would rather lose than that. But luckily his state of mind had deteriorated enough so that he could force himself to keep drinking past the discomfort.
At last the dwarf finally hit his limit and his head hit the table. Legolas stopped drinking, and his unusual power to heal began to clear his mind a little already, though he winced against the headache he had developed. He looked around. There were at least fourteen pints here where the dwarf had been drinking, maybe more. The elf was impressed, but he smiled to the astonishment of the people surrounding him.
"Sorry Gimli," he said. "But you said not to throw up or fall asleep, not whoever drank more. Because of this I win even though you surely would have won if you had said that whoever drank most won. It was a good match Gimli son of Gloin, but I have bested you yet again."
Upon hearing this, the people all laughed and clapped, congratulating the elf. They offered him more beer, which he quickly declined and stood, leaving the table where the man and the dwarf were now sleeping quietly. He found Angrod quickly, who noticed that he was slightly drunk and he was highly amused. But after a while his drunkenness seemed to abate a little, so the wolf wasn't worried. Legolas turned and walked out to a balcony for some fresh air, and there he found the brightness of Mordor even here burning to his eyes. He pulled up the hood on his cloak as if to protect himself from the sight of it. Someone else walked up behind him, but he recognized Aragorn's step and didn't turn to look at him. For a while he was silent, letting his mind clear.
"What is it?" Aragorn asked.
The elf looked up suddenly, seeming distracted by the light he could see, that which was only darkness. He seemed to be thinking a moment to the man, but really he felt the old fear stirring in his heart. What had he gotten himself into? He could feel the eyes of the evil one on him. But suddenly they seemed to shift. It made him nervous.
"The stars are veiled," the elf replied nervously. "Something stirs in the east, a sleepless malice." he looked at the man. "The eye of the enemy is moving."
"Towards Sam and Frodo?" the man asked quietly.
"His fiery gaze is coming close to Edoras," the elf spoke in new alarm. The man felt alarm as well, afraid of the darkness claiming his friend.
"Do not look at it Legolas," Aragorn cried. Instantly the elf heeded him, turning to look at his face. The man tried to speak to him reassuringly. "Sauron will seek revenge for on Rohan for Saruman's defeat. We knew this."
"Something is wrong," Legolas insisted, and then suddenly the elf froze, fear etched across his features. "He is here!"
The elf listened carefully, and the wolf's ears pricked forward as the elf threw back the hood of his cloak to look around nervously. Then they heard it, barely above the din of everything else, the sound of screaming. Without waiting to explain the elf leaped forward to find the source of the sound, because he recognized Pippin's voice. The man followed the panicked elf and wolf though he had no idea what was really going on. Within a few moments they had found the room.
Legolas found the stone again, wrapped in an otherworldly fire. It was bright to his eyes and he was unable to continue looking at it. He collapsed, shivering and feeling cold and sick. Aragorn's concern was now torn in two as he looked at the two of his friends on the ground.
"Help him," Merry cried, not having seen Legolas.
Aragorn leaped across the room before he could stop himself and pulled the stone from Pippin's grasp. He collapsed onto the floor as well, writhing in agony as much as Pippin. Angrod curled up next to Legolas, trying to give him some warmth and the help of his light. But Legolas' fierce loyalty had overcome his sickness, and he was more worried about Aragorn and Pippin than himself. Merry though had finally noticed the elf laying on the ground and grew afraid, throwing a horrified glance at the Planatir. He grabbed a blanket and ran to the elf, quickly throwing the thick blanket over him, knowing nothing else to do to help this sickness in him. Then the Hobbit ran to Pippin and looked at all of his friends on the ground, unsure what to do.
At this point Legolas was a little surprised that no one else had been aroused by the noise that had been made in the room where the two Hobbits and Gandalf had been sleeping. The Wizard finally woke up when Pippin let out a pitiful scream. He leaped up and knocked the stone away from the man, who gasped and struggled to recover. Then he went to the Hobbit and grew angry, but then begin to whisper the words of a spell over the Hobbit. Merry quickly scrambled over to Legolas as Gandalf instructed and tried his best to help the elf, trying his best to make sure that he remained warm and talking to him quietly, trying to keep him from falling asleep. Angrod nestled closer to the elf, trying to help him with the light that he could offer.
The elf was painfully aware of the darkness that threatened to take over him, but like he had earlier in the drinking contest, he found himself determined to not lose, no matter what it cost. He looked in the direction of the young Hobbit's voice, who seemed very relieved that the elf was responding to him, even if only a little. Angrod seemed relieved as well that the elf hadn't fallen unconscious again, where he was most vulnerable to the to the whisperings of the darkness. Aragorn quickly recovered and listened closely as the wizard questioned Pippin about the events that had occurred.
Legolas could tell by the tone of his voice, though his mind could not process the words that were being said, that he was angry at Pippin. He was mad that he could have destroyed any chance that the mission would have any success, that he had hurt himself and Aragorn, and that he had hurt Legolas. The elf didn't really felt like he deserved such anger, the Hobbit was simply too curious for his own good. However he did understand that the wizard was angry with the Hobbit out of love for his Fellowship. It was quite obvious that Pippin was deeply sorry and deeply afraid. Finally the Hobbit and the wizard both seemed to calm, and the wizard turned to Aragorn and Merry, speaking quietly to them and glancing at the elf.
They all seemed to come to a decision, and the elf was left there with Gandalf that night who would be keeping an eye on him and Pippin until morning came and he was sure the danger had passed the two of them, at least for the time being. The elf was a little annoyed that he couldn't hear what they were saying but he was still awake at least. Legolas suddenly felt very useless, and the old depression threatened to overcome him again. But it seemed obvious enough to him that no one else shared that same feeling. They took such good care of him whenever he fell prey like this to his strange condition, never forsaking him or leaving him behind.
The wizard at last crossed the room, and laid his hand on the elf's brow. The elf remained very still and didn't try to pull away. He understood that the wizard was his friend and that he could trust him. The wizard seemed very pleased with this fact and whispered reassuring words to the elf. Then he spoke a quick and simple spell over the elf.
Legolas felt his eyelids instantly begin to grow heavy, and he felt himself slipping into sleep. The elf was a little surprised. The wizard had never used a spell on him before. But the wizard whispered reassuringly to the elf and gently pet the elf's brow as well, as if to calm him. Annoyed as the elf was, he knew that the wizard meant no harm and that he was trying to help. At last he gave into the sleeping spell and knew no more for a while.
Sorry for the long wait for this update! I know it took forever. And it's a little odd that Legolas just got better to get worse again. However I felt it was necessary and because I needed to include the planatir as well as get the story moving again. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and feel free to leave a response below and tell me how you thought of this chapter. Soon we'll get moving onwards to the final battle, because I know you're worried about what might happen to Legolas when he's finally faced with the eye of Sauron again.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and will put up with me until I have time to update again.