In Imladris- Chapter 2

Has a momentary panic when my internet went down, but it's all ok now! Phew! Next chapter here, with things maybe getting a little bit hairier. Also featuring the introduction of Elrond and Glorfindel!

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

Legolas bowed as he approached the table in the hall, Elladan and Elrohir behind him. "My Lord Elrond" he said in greetings.

"Mae govannen Legolas" said Elrond, clasping his arm. "I heard you had arrived late last night. Was your journey long?"

Legolas took a seat at the table. Elladan and Elrohir sat either side of him. "Long" said Legolas, "but uneventful."

"How is Mirkwood?"

Legolas froze for a split second, before answering. "About the same, my Lord. My father sends a message with me. It contains information about our defences, though I do not know the details of the letter." He drew it out and passed it over to Elrond, who pocketed it.

"I shall read it later" he said.

Glorfindel was sitting the other side of Elrond, and leaned over. "I trust you will be staying here for a while penneth?"

Legolas forced himself to smile back at Glorfindel. "Aye" he said. "Until I may take a reply back to my father."

"Good" murmured Glorfindel. "Someone needs to beat Elladan and Elrohir whilst sparring. They are becoming insufferable."

"That is an insult!" cried Elrohir. "Bread roll, Legolas?"

Legolas wanted to say no, but he had to maintain appearances, so he took the basket of rolls and took one, breaking it open on his plate. He tore off a piece and put it in his mouth. It seemed tasteless.

He didn't want to spar with Elrohir or Elladan. He couldn't bear to pick up his knives. His bow he could still use, but even then images began to haunt him after too long. A scar on his shoulder twinged and he rubbed it absentmindedly.

He was a fine warrior, he thought bitterly, if he could not use a blade. But he supposed it didn't matter. No matter what he did he still failed.

He realised too late that Elladan had asked him a question. He blinked. "My pardon, what was that?"

Elladan frowned slightly. "I asked if you wanted to go for a rider later" he said. "Elrohir and I have to do some work in the library this morning, but we should be free after a few hours, and then should be able to go out."

Legolas forced another smile. "Aye, that would be alright" he said.

"Hunting?" asked Glorfindel, popping a cherry into his mouth. "Maybe I should come."

"And make us all feel insignificant with your stories of great valour and the like?" asked Elrohir. "Maybe not."

"Besides, there is little we can hunt right now" said Elladan. He turned to Legolas. "We took a large trip out a week ago. You should have seen the size of our deer!"

"I shot it" said Elrohir. "Brought it down with a single arrow."

"You did not" said Elladan. "I did!"

Down the table Elrond sighed and turned to Glorfindel. "What did you start?" he murmured.

Glorfindel did not reply. He was watching Legolas. Legolas, who had not touched any food since eating a small piece of bread, who had deep shadows under his eyes. Glorfindel was a seasoned warrior, and he could tell from the stiffness in Legolas' body as he turned his head to watch Elladan and Elrohir argue that he was bearing scars that had not yet healed.

"Something is the matter" he whispered to Elrond. "With Legolas."

Elrond watched him and noticed what Glorfindel had. "Maybe the letter mentions it" he murmured back. "But you are right, mellon-nin. He does not look…whole."

"Aye" said Glorfindel softly. "He has barely eaten anything, and I will bet my sword that he has not slept for the past few weeks at least. I recognise the look."

"I will read Thranduil's message" replied Elrond. "And if it contains no clues, then I shall approach him."

"Is that wise?" asked Glorfindel. "You know how…stubborn he can be."

"Is there another option?" asked Elrond quietly. Their voices were so quiet that the twins and Legolas could not hear them. Besides, Elladan and Elrohir were arguing about their recent hunting trip, and Legolas was listening, trying desperately to pay attention. As a consequence, none of them even realised that Glorfindel and Elrond were having a conversation.

"Maybe talk to your sons" whispered Glorfindel. "They could in turn talk to Legolas."

"I fear they already know something is wrong" replied Elrond in a soft voice. "Look how they glance at him."

Glorfindel watched them, and then nodded. "It would be hard not to notice something" he murmured.

"Aye" said Elrond. "We better hope that whatever it is, Legolas' stay in Imladris will help."

0-o-0-o-0

Elrond sighed, and ran his face over his hand. The soft morning light filtered in through the wide windows, but despite the beautiful weather, his face was troubled. In his hands was a crumpled piece of parchment, the broken wax seal bearing the insignia of the royal family of Mirkwood.

Elrond glanced at the letter again. Legolas had handed it to him after breakfast this morning. Only now did Elrond understand the haunted look in the young elf's eyes. He sighed, and read the letter again.

To Lord Elrond Peredhel Earendilion, Lord of Imladris,

I send this letter with my son Legolas, in the hopes that you will be able to help him where I have failed.

Legolas believes that this message contains important and vital information about the current state and defence of our home. He believes that I have sent him, as if this information fell into the wrong hands, our home could easily be destroyed.

Whilst this is partially true, this is not the real reason that I write to you now.

Our home is falling under the shadow spreading from Dol Guldur. Orcs and spiders now roam throughout the woods, and we are being pushed further and further back. Now our realm hardly extends to the elf path. It would have retreated much further if it weren't for my valiant captain. I speak, of course, of my son.

It has been hundreds of years since the shadow returned, and my son first felt the bitter sting of despair, I believe. Ever since then, Legolas has fought valiantly against the shadow, often taking courageous risks to protect his people and his home. But as the shadow increases, no matter what he does against it, I see the spark fade in his eyes. His risks have become desperate, he no longer laughs.

I suppose I should fill you in on what has happened recently. Whilst I think that his hope is indeed fading, he had been strong, fighting against the hopelessness. But last month, he took out a patrol into the forest. They had not even crossed the elf path before they were attacked.

My son watched his patrol die around him. He managed to fight off the band of orcs before collapsing. My captain and his men found them a day later, their blood mingling with the mud and the dirt. Somehow, my son had clung onto life.

I know Legolas blames himself for what happened. The guilt and grief weighs heavily on his mind. He saw more elves, more friends fall to the shadow, and although he fought with all his strength to save them, he could do nothing. His eyes are dim. I feel powerless against this despair that threatens my only joy in life. I know Legolas has not slept since the night of the attack, but every time I try and talk to him he simply does not reply.

I speak to you now, Lord Elrond, not as a king, who must look to all his people, but as a father.

I fear for him. I fear for my son.

I do not feel so afraid of his death, for the Halls of Mandos offer peace to all who enter. I know that he will continue to fight, and although I worry constantly, this is not what drives me awake at night.

I fear for what will happen to his spirit when the darkness finally overwhelms him. I fear that the life and light that once lived in him will be extinguished forever. Indeed, I am scared that I already see this light die in his eyes. I fear that my son will become nothing more than a bow and two knives in service to a failing land. I fear he will fade. I fear that I see him fading already.

I do not believe that Legolas will be able to return to the safe haven of Imladris after this trip. Already, I am only able to send him with a small escort. We need all our warriors, and soon I will need Legolas by my side if I am to stand against this shadow. I am aware of how unbearably selfish this sounds, but I need him if I am to stay strong. I do not have the gift of foresight; I cannot tell if this darkness will lift, but I know I will need him in the years ahead.

Elrond, mellon-nin, I beseech you. Try to help him see past the despair. I know your sons are friends to him. If you wish, show them this letter, so that they may understand.

Saes, mellon-nin. Let him rest, Elrond. Let him be at peace for one last time before he returns to our war-ravaged home. Above all, give him hope. Give him hope that the light will endure.

Hannon le.

Thranduil Oropherion, King of Mirkwood.

Elrond leant back in his chair, massaging his temples. This was grave news, and he could hardly ignore Thranduil's plea for help. He looked up as he heard the soft tread of elven footsteps, and smiled wanly at his valued captain and friend.

Glorfindel grinned as he entered Elrond's office. "See" he said smugly. "I told you that you would get a headache if you closeted yourself up for the day. Again."

When Elrond didn't smile in response, the grin fell from Glorfindel's face and he moved forwards to stand by Elrond. "Mellon-nin?" he asked carefully.

In response, Elrond lifted the letter in front of him and passed it over. Glorfindel read quickly, his eyes skating over the ornate script. When finished, he paled, and ran his hand over his face.

Elrond spoke first. "I fear the same things Thranduil fears" he said slowly. "After all, we both know what can happen when a fëa fades." He paused, falling back into old memories.

Glorfindel placed a comforting hand on Elrond's shoulder. "I knew something was wrong when I saw him this morning" he said. "But I never imagined it would be this bad." He sighed. "An entire patrol slaughtered, and Legolas himself close to death. It is enough to make anyone fall, even if the elf in question has not been under the shadow of Mirkwood."

"The shadow has grown even stronger" said Elrond. "I thought when there was the Watchful Peace that maybe we had helped Thranduil, but all we did was win him a little bit of breathing space, before the darkness came crashing back down." He sighed. "I do not like this, Glorfindel."

"Do not worry" said Glorfindel. "Legolas is in Imladris, the Last Homely House. You are here. If there was anywhere in Arda that he could heal, it would be here."

"Yet I am still worried" replied Elrond.

"Do not be" said Glorfindel. "What has happened before will not happen again. Legolas is asking questions that all warriors have asked of themselves at one point or another. Trust is yourself, Elrond. Trust in your home, and the peace that can be found here."

Elrond stood up, gripping Glorfindel's arm in thanks. "Can you find my sons?" he asked. "I feel that they should know this."

Glorfindel nodded, and backed out of the room. "I will find them" he promised. "And you must not worry. I'm sure everything will turn out to be fine."

But as Glorfindel walked away from Elrond, he frowned slightly. Somehow, he did not quite trust his own words.

To Be Continued...

If you are reading this and wondering what exactly happened in the events mentioned in Thranduil's letter, that is what my other fanfic, In Mirkwood, is all about. Providing my internet behaves, next chapter will be up tomorrow!