Just a Friend- Chapter 15

Here it is, the moment that Telan finds out who Las and Strider really are (in case it isn't clear, this is set three years from the previous chapter). I am a bit nervous about this chapter, because so many have asked about this moment of revelation for Telan, so I hope this lives up to people's expectations!

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1, but I own Belhadron.

Now Telan's hand slipped back into his pocket to grasp hold of the metal disc. It was worn now, tarnished, but the insignias on it, of Gondor and the one he didn't know, where still recognisable. Taking his hand out of his pocket, he let it stray to the long knife in his belt. His father had given it to him, before he had left.

"Here," Henric had said. "You may not have a sword, but you can use a knife just as well. Keep safe."

Telan had nodded, hugged his mother and father, and then bent down to hug Cat tightly, before pulling his sack over his shoulder and leaving the house.

It had been nearly three years since his little sister had found an unconscious elf in the woods. Two weeks less since the elf, Las, had returned to their home, handed Telan the metal disc, and had told him if he ever wanted to be a soldier, to present it to any guard in the courtyard of Minas Tirith.

Which was exactly what Telan was going to do. He was sixteen, grown up now, and understood the world far more than his thirteen year old self had, the one who had rocked in front of a fire and questioned an elf as to why the world wasn't fair.

Of course, he understood why now. He understood that life wasn't fair. But, with a satisfied grin, he knew he could do a little to make it a bit fairer. He could be a soldier, a warrior for Gondor. He could fight back.

His fingers drummed on the hilt of his knife again, and he could barely suppress the nervousness and excitement in him. Every step he took he came closer to Minas Tirith.

He was good with a sword now. He could disarm his father now, though not quickly. He still could learn a lot. He still wanted to learn a lot.

And then, as he kept walking, the distant city became closer and closer, and more and more real. Telan could see the great gates eventually, half open to allow people in. The sun glinted off the mithril and steel that the dwarves had crafted as Telan drew closer and closer to the city.

Eventually he stepped into the shadow of the city, the great outer walls gleaming above his head. Telan gulped and walked forwards towards the gates, hitching up his pack on his shoulders. Finally, he was here. He had arrived.

He joined a small group of people entering the city, suppressing a smile as he walked through the great gates that towered above him. He was finally here!

The courtyard was huge, the gravel crunching under Telan's feet as he stepped forwards. White stone gleamed around them, though in a place or two there were still scorch marks from fires in the siege that had claimed so many lives.

A fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard, and a statue opposite the gate of a long dead king astride his horse. The fountain looked new, however, and as Telan approached it, he saw an inscription carved into the pillar of the fountain. Looking closer, a faint lump appeared in his throat as he realised it was not just a fountain. It was a memorial as well, a reminder of all those who had died in the war, be it outside the gates of Minas Tirith, or far away in the north, outside Erebor, or outside the Black Gate. There had not been enough space for all the names.

Telan turned away, his hand closing around the metal disc as he looked for a soldier. A few were standing by the gate, and he approached them cautiously, pulling the disc out of his pocket.

One guard looked up as Telan approached and pulled away from the others. "What is it, boy?" he asked, not unkindly. "Do you know where it is you want to go?"

Telan shook his head, and held out his hand, holding the metal disc. "I was given this by a blond elf," he said as the guard took it. "An elf that I knew by the name of Las, but I think that wasn't his actual name. He said if I should ever want to be a soldier for Gondor, to come here and to hand this to any soldier. He said they would know what to do."

The soldier turned the disc over in his hands, frowning. "I am not high up enough to know exactly what to do," he said. "But this…" He looked up at Telan. "What is your name?"

"I am Telan, from a village on the outskirts of Gondor," replied Telan. Panic surged up in him, a sudden worry as the soldier frowned again, before looking up.

"Wait here," he told Telan. He strode off across the courtyard and Telan stood there, watching nervously. The soldier went over and intercepted another man crossing the courtyard. This other man was dressed in greens and browns, and Telan recognised, from all those years ago, the colours of the rangers.

The soldier had a brief conversation with the ranger, and showed him the metal disc. Instantly the ranger's eyes looked over at Telan, and Telan fought an impulse to look away nervously. He kept watching as the ranger, followed by the soldier, came over to him.

"I take it you want to be a soldier, boy?" asked the ranger, coming to stand in front of Telan. He was tall, taller than Telan, with dark hair falling around his face. A sword was at his hip, and a quiver strapped to his back.

Telan nodded. "Aye," he said. "I have learnt to fight a bit. My father taught me. He was a soldier during the war."

The ranger nodded. "I am Beregond," he said. "Captain of Lord Faramir's guard. Normally we do not simply take in boys who come to ask us to be soldiers, but this…" He took the disc and held it up. "This changes things. You say a blond elf by the name of Las gave it to you, and told you to bring it here if you wanted to be a soldier?"

Telan nodded, and Beregond frowned. "Where did you meet this elf?"

"It was three years ago," said Telan. "My younger sister found him, unconscious, in the woods. We took him home and my Ma looked after him. He had been poisoned. He was getting worse when a man turned up, a friend of the elf. He looked after him until he was better."

"Aye, and do you know any of their names?" asked Beregond.

Telan blushed slightly. "I don't think they are their real names," he said. "But the elf was called Las, and the man called himself Strider."

The ranger stiffened. "Strider?" he asked. "And he was friends with the elf?"

"Aye," said Telan. "He healed him using…kingsfoil, I think, and they seemed to be best friends."

Beregond frowned. "I think I can safely say you are welcome here, Telan," he said, smiling slightly as a grin began to spread across Telan's face.

Telan nodded. "My thanks-" he began, but was cut off by the clear call of a trumpet from the walkway above the gate, and a voice ringing out.

"Riders approaching!" it called, and people in the courtyard began to move more hurriedly. Beregond grabbed Telan's arm, handing him back the metal disc. "Come with me," he said. "We need to get out the way."

The other soldier ran back to the gate and heaved the other half open with his fellow men, and Telan and Beregond stood by the side of the open gates, waiting. Before long Telan could hear the pounding of hooves as horses approached, and then a herald above the gate cried out again.

"Make way!" he called. "Make way for the Lord of Ithilien!"

Telan's heart leapt up into his throat as suddenly horses burst through the gates and into the courtyard, the pounding changing to a clattering as they cantered in across the stones. The horses circled the fountain as they slowed, pulling up and eventually coming to a stop. The sound of snorting and pawing hooves filled the courtyard.

One horse pushed forwards and Beregond stepped forwards as the rider approached. From where Telan stood, in an alcove he had been pressed back into as the horses thundered past, he could not see the rider.

Beregond bowed. "My Lord," he said in greetings. "It has been too long since you were last in Ithilien."

Telan stiffened as a strangely familiar voice answered the ranger. "Beregond, it is good to see you," said the voice. "Is Faramir in the city?"

"He is not," said Beregond. "He rode north to Cair Andros this morning. Something about the…" He sighed. "I am not sure." He chuckled. "They are still looking through the old archives in Osgiliath and Minas Tirith, and Lord Faramir has been…very interested." Beregond chuckled.

The voice laughed. "I am sure Faramir will return soon," he said. "I was planning on staying for a few days anyway. I need to talk to Faramir. Eowyn has asked me to convince him to spend less time in the archives, and more time in the open air."

This time Beregond laughed. "She can try," he said with a chuckle. "How are you faring in Ithilien?"

"Well," said the voice that Telan was so sure he recognised. "The trees are responding more and more."

"Aye, well they would," said Beregond, "if there is a colony of elves living amongst them."

Elves! The word jolted Telan's memory and he suddenly remembered who the voice belonged to. He ran out of the alcove to see Beregond talking to a blond elf astride a grey horse. Telan's face lit up as he saw the elf.

"Las!" he cried out, and both the elf and Beregond turned to him in surprise. Telan halted as Las frowned slightly, panic welling in him.

And then the elf suddenly smiled, vaulting off his horse easily, and moving forwards. "Telan?" he asked.

"Aye, it is me," said Telan with a grin. He held out the metal disc. "You told me to come if I ever wanted to be a soldier."

"That I did," said Las thoughtfully, taking the disc and turning it over in his hands. Telan waited nervously. What if Las did not have enough power in the city to do this? What if he had to go back home?

"So this is Las?" asked Beregond. "The elf your sister found unconscious in the woods?"

"Aye," said Telan warily, not sure where this was going. To his surprise Beregond laughed.

"Did you not tell him?" he asked the elf, a large grin across his face. He kept laughing, and leant against Las' horse with one hand. The horse stepped away with an indignant horse and Beregond chuckled again. "Sorry, Arod," he said. "But he did not know? You did not tell him?"

Las sighed. "No, we did not," he said. "We thought it to be better." He chuckled. "And you can stop laughing, Beregond. We thought it would be less…awkward if we did not tell them."

"Wait, tell me what?" asked Telan, thoroughly confused. He looked back and forth from Las and Beregond.

Las turned back to Telan. "I am sorry to have lied to you, when we first met," he said. "Las is not my name. It is a name invented for me, to keep my identity hidden. So was Strider's name, though that name he had used for a long time."

He sighed. "My real name is Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood, Lord of Ithilien, and one of the Nine Walkers."

Telan's mouth dropped open, and he immediately fell to one knee. "My…My Lord," he stammered. He had had the Lord of Ithilien lying in a bed in his house! He had…He had had one of the Fellowship in his house! He…he needed to write a letter to his parents and tell them this. "Forgive me..."

Legolas laughed slightly, pulling Telan to his feet. "No, it was us who deceived you," he said. "You did nothing that needs forgiving, Telan. I am only grateful. But we had to hide who we were, just in case."

Beregond held up a hand. "When was this?" he asked. "What happened?" He looked back and forth between the elf and Telan, struggling to hold back a snort of laughter when he saw Telan's face, his eyes wide in shock, and his mouth still hanging open as he stared at Legolas.

"Do you remember?" asked Legolas. "When I went missing, about three years ago? Arod turned up riderless and my weapons were found by a patrol."

Beregond nodded. "When you had been attacked by men," he said slowly. "Brandishing orcish weapons. I remember. Lord Aragorn left the city to look for you, and you both turned up two weeks later. And then you left again for a few days, before returning from the same place, I think?"

"Aye," said Legolas. "With one of the men in tow, if you recall. I remember you were in the city with Faramir at the time." He chuckled as he remembered that day. As soon as he had ridden into the city Aragorn had come down to meet him, still worried over him. Faramir and Beregond had been in the citadel when Legolas had arrived, and he had met them there, whilst persuading Belhadron, his second in command, to not mention the events to Thranduil.

Beregond chuckled. "I remember. Lord Aragorn was rather angry when he saw that man. I am still not completely convinced he didn't want him dead, but I suppose the man is more useful doing forced labour in the fields than dead." He turned his gaze to Telan. "This is the boy from the family?"

"Aye," said Legolas, turning to look at Telan. "He saved my life."

Telan's jaw was wide open. "So…" he managed to stutter out. "Strider is…"

"King Elessar Telcontar of Gondor and Arnor," said Legolas. "Aye, he is."

"But…" Telan frowned. "He taught me…sword fighting!" He didn't know what to say, or what to do. If felt as if his lungs couldn't get enough air into them, and he breathed deeply, his mouth open. Imagine what his family would say! Imagine what Cat would think. After all, she lived for tales of Kings and Princes, and they had had both of them in their home at the same time. He needed to write them a letter.

Beregond raised his eyebrows. "Now I have no doubt about taking him on as a soldier," he said. "If Lord Aragorn taught him, he will be excellent."

"It was only one morning," said Legolas. "But aye, Telan, I will not break my promise. You have a place here now, if you would like it."

It took Telan a while to close his mouth, he was so shocked. "Aye…" he managed to say. "I have kept practising…my Lord. I want to be a soldier."

"More than a soldier," said Beregond gruffly. "I will pull some strings. After training, I will try and get you assigned to the rangers, maybe, or the citadel guard. Special circumstances, seeing as you saved the life of the Lord of Ithilien, and more importantly, Thranduil's son."

Telan frowned in confusion, and Legolas laughed. "He means nothing by it, Telan," he said. "Although," he said to Beregond, "I am still glad news of what happened did not reach my father for a while. I knew if he was told too soon, he would browbeat Aragorn into handing the man over." Legolas laughed, and turned back to Telan. "I will speak with Aragorn, or Strider as you know him."

A voice called out from the slowly dissipating mass of horses in the courtyard and a dark haired elf rode forwards, the one that Telan had met all those years ago, when Las- no, Legolas, had returned. The horse snorted as the elf moved up behind Legolas with a grin.

"Legolas, we have to go," he said, his lilting accent just as Telan remembered, if a little less pronounced. "The streets will be busy, and you know Estel gets irritated if we are late." The elf rolled his eyes. "Again."

Legolas laughed. "Belhadron, that was your fault last time, so you cannot blame me. But aye, you are right. And Eldarion is now at the age when he will not stay still for more than a minute. No doubt Arwen is already looking for him." He looked over at Telan. "Do you remember Telan?" he asked. "From the time I went missing three years ago, and Aragorn rode out to find me."

Belhadron moved his horse forwards. "Aye, I remember," he said, looking at Telan with narrowed eyes. "The young boy who wants to be a soldier."

Telan grinned sheepishly. "Aye, that is me," he said nervously. Belhadron looked at him for a moment longer, before turning to Legolas and saying something in rapid elvish. Legolas laughed in return and grinned at Belhadron.

Belhadron smiled at Telan, but still Telan was slightly wary of him. It was like there was something else about him, something almost more feral, deep down in his eyes. He repressed a shudder as he wondered how many things had died because of this elf. But then when he looked again, looked closer at the dark-haired elf, he saw the merriness in his eyes, and the laughter that could easily come from his lips. Telan smiled back.

"You are welcome here, Telan," said Belhadron, his lips curved in a smile. "For what you did for my captain and friend, all those years ago. Yet I am afraid we must leave you now. Legolas, we must go."

Legolas shook his head. "When was it you became more prompt than me, mellon-nin?" He turned to Beregond. "Will you show Telan his place here? You are most welcome, Telan. I look forward to seeing you in the city."

Beregond nodded, and Legolas smiled at Telan as he vaulted back on his horse. "I am glad to see you here," he said, turning Arod back into the courtyard. Telan watched as together the two elves rode forwards up the street of the city, heading for the gate up to the second level. The rest of the soldiers followed them, and in a second they were gone, the clattering of hooves echoing through the city.

Beregond looked Telan in the eye. "Come," he said. "I will show you to the barrack where those training to be soldiers stay, and arrange for someone to show you around the city." He smiled slightly as they began to walk out of the courtyard. "I think you will like it here, Telan."

Telan nodded. "Aye," he said softly. In his mind, he could still see Legolas unconscious in the bed, Strider kneeling next to him. Then, Telan had had no idea that the King of Gondor and the Lord of Ithilien had been in their home. At the time, they had just been two friends.

To Be Continued...

Just an epilogue to go, but it will now be in two parts. Next time, the rest of the family will find out! As always, reviews are very welcome.