A/N: Oh my gosh… Has it really been about a year since I last updated this? I'm so sorry! I'd flood you with excuses, but I doubt that you want to read them. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! And a huge 'Thank you!' goes out to Legolas Thranduilion, RosalieCullenHale1, iccle fairy, Taryn Streambattle, King Caspian the Seafarer, Danderil, Snowpaw, and The Pearl Maiden more reviewing! I love reading your opinions! And also to all who added this story to their Alerts/Favorites; I'm delighted that you like it that much!
Just a quick note, the time space between the Prologue and the first chapter has been lengthened to ten years, and in Cossidh's POV, Aragorn is referred to as Estel. The main reason for that last change is that I realized Aragorn wouldn't give out his real name so easily. ;)
Disclaimer: See the Prologue
~*~Chapter Four~*~
Just inside the valley of Imladris…
Snow glistened in the sunlight on the peaks of the mountains. Many different shades of green and brown marked where trees stood. Red, dull brown, white, and gray stone stood out between the patches of snow and forests. Cossidh's eyes, however, were not on the surrounding mountains or crystal-clear blue sky, but on the valley before him. Ignoring the strands of hair a cool breeze played with around his face, Cossidh stared at the graceful limbs of birches, beeches, aspens, poplars, and other kinds of trees, their various-hued bark and leaves lighted by the afternoon sun. Dapples fell on the soft green grass and undergrowth. Pale flowers blossomed on the trees while violets and clover showed their colors in the grass. Silvery water gurgled as brooks wound lazily through the valley. Distant thundering and rushing spoke of a river and waterfalls. Pastel buildings were beautifully constructed around nature, lovely carving all along the edges. The sunlight fell just so, making the city shine.
"Welcome to Rivendell." Estel's voice sounded proud and somewhat amused.
Cossidh just closed his eyes and listened to the chirping of the birds and rustling of the trees, a contented smile spreading across his face. It was good to be back in the peaceful valley. The elf opened one eye slightly. Wait…Had he been here before? Perhaps. He let out a breath through his nose, wishing his memory was up to par.
He barely suppressed an urge to sing and dance as the trees called out soft greetings. Everything here was so alive. Forgetting himself momentarily, Cossidh laughed merrily, intoxicated with the wonder and glory of the realm. The birds responded to his laughter with sweet song and he grinned with pleasure.
Opening his eyes fully, the wood elf turned to Estel, still smiling slightly. "It is beautiful."
Estel grinned, his eyes betraying that he had been expecting to hear that. Without a word, he started forward into the valley. Cossidh followed, reflecting on how different Imladris and Mirkwood were. Despite King Thranduil's love of jewels and silver, the palace still showed that the elves were more accustomed to fighting, unlike this. Cossidh was willing to wager that when the Mirkwood elves feasted and danced, however, it would be more wild and exciting than the Noldor's celebrations.
A whistle sounded out, so akin to a birdsong that the Silva might have missed it if the wood elves had not used a similar method of signals. Estel had lengthened his stride at the whistle, an eager expression on his face. The wood elf let him take the lead and abandoned his comparisons, still gazing about in awe.
Humming a lively tune, Cossidh readily responded to Nature. The slight smile etched itself deeper into his face as he allowed himself to be freer than he had been in the last few weeks. Poking fun at the human's mistakes and the Trollshaws had been nice, yes, but this…This was amazing. An elven realm as it should be.
"One would think from your reaction that you had never been here before," a teasing voice in Sindarin said from above.
Startled, Cossidh instinctively drew a dagger and looked in the direction the voice had come from. An amused dark-haired elf sat on the limb of a birch and smirked at him, drawing a blade of his own and jumping to the ground. "Of course, if you desire to duel as a way of greeting, we could do that. Though it would be strange, wouldn't you agree?"
Sheathing his weapon and feeling foolish, he shook his head at the other elf's offer, wishing that he had restrained his former glee, responding in the same tongue stiffly. "No, thank you. And this is indeed my first time in Imladris, a fair realm indeed."
Cossidh felt Estel's eyes on him, but met the guard's gaze instead of facing the ranger. Putting away his knife as well, the brunette smiled cockily, but Cossidh caught puzzlement in his eyes as the other surveyed him. Finally, the Noldo raised a considering eyebrow. "Well, then welcome, if you wish to play at that game. I have the honor of being Pellain and you are fortunate to be graced with my presence." Estel chuckled at that. "It is long since any Mirkwood elf has visited us here."
"It is long since any Imladris elf has visited us in Mirkwood," the Silva returned wryly. "I am Cossidh. It is an…honor to make your acquaintance, Pellain."
Pellain's stare kindled with an understanding gleam and he flicked a stray hair back airily. "Ah. The Royal Family's cousin. That is why you look so much like them then."
The wood elf nodded in acquiesce, but Pellain had shifted his attention to Estel. He watched with a tint of amusement as the guard threw up his hands in mock-horror. "Ai! What have the Dunedain done to you, my good Estel? Ai! You look like a human now," he sniffed the air dramatically, "and a none too clean one at that! How could you have forgotten our teachings so quickly?"
The young man rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "It is good to see you again too, Pellain. Tell me, are Elladan and Elrohir here?"
Interest heightened, Cossidh waited for Pellain's answer, but was rather disappointed as the cocky Noldo shook his head. "Nay, they are hunting." His disapproving tone sent a clear message that he did not like Elladan and Elrohir's "hunting" and that he wanted his previous questions answered.
Hunting? Why would Pellain look down on hunting? There was no harm in it, unless one killed more than they needed. Surely, the sons of Elrond-Oh. The Silva realized as his mind supplied momentarily forgotten information. The Lady Celebrian. Evidently, the twins still felt as though they had not avenged themselves on orcs yet. His own mother a victim of wargs, Cossidh could sympathize with his friends' longing for retribution, but to hardly ever stay at Imladris and go chasing after trouble seemed a tab obsessive.
Wait. What was he thinking? Friends? He had only met the sons of Elrond briefly. Well…Friends of his cousins were friends of his and Legolas had definitely liked them. King Thranduil had not, really. But the king only worried for his sons' safety. After all, Elladan and Elrohir went searching for servants of Sauron and his people only sought to free their realm from darkness.
Although the princes did have a tendency to—Cossidh frowned as an ache in his head let itself be known.
"—Lord Elrond?" His companions were looking at him expectantly.
Cursing himself in every language he knew, the wood elf decided to fumble his way through this impassively. "Yes," he said, hoping that that would do and wondering just what the question had been.
The ranger looked surprised, but pleased and the Noldo guard smirked approvingly. Estel adjusted his scabbard and nodded to the Imladris elf. "I suppose we will see you tonight then."
"Aye." With a final impetuous grin, Pellain disappeared into the birch.
Cossidh followed Estel as they continued and glanced up at Pellain in the tree. The casual observer would not have noticed him at first sight, but to the warrior, he was much too exposed.
The duo had barely gone five yards downhill when a strain of song reached their ears. Cossidh had to snicker at the long-suffering expression on the man's face. The Noldo was singing a song he was obviously making up as he went about dirty Dunedain and pristine elves in contrast.
The wood elf decided that Pellain had an excellent sense of humor.
After listening to the insulting song and the Dunadan's mutterings, the elf wondered what he had consented to. It had something to do with Lord Elrond…Perhaps he had agreed to spend a few days in the house of Lord Elrond, or to seek his aid, or simply to pass him by.
Not willing to admit to not having heard the quiry, the Silva fixed his steady gaze on the human's back and waited for him to say something.
After a while—Evidently Estel was able to tolerate elven stares better than most mortals-, the ranger began to squirm subtly. Rather amused, Cossidh hardened his gaze and focused even more on Estel's back. He could hear the trees laughing.
One sapling brushed his arm and he patted its bark, but did not turn his eyes away.
The Dunadan quickened his pace, but so did Cossidh. Estel started making use of the foliage to gain brief respite behind. The wood elf simply walked faster, holding back a laugh. Estel grunted in frustration and he caught the annoyed flare in the human's eyes as he looked back at him. "Yes?"
Ah. So he has had enough, has he? Cossidh did not answer, relishing the young man's discomfort and made his eyes even sterner.
"Elves," Estel grumbled.
He never broke the façade, but the elf's body was shaking with silent laughter. Oh, he had not had this much fun in months. Perhaps the air of the valley was affecting him.
The young man stopped and cleared his throat, quirking an exasperated brow at Cossidh and repeated. "Yes?"
The humor in the situation faded as the wood elf recalled what had happened the last time he had simply stared at a human silently. That had not ended well at all for any party present. Ashamed, he shook his red-gold head and shifted his gaze to green lichen on a rock. If the ranger felt the change of atmosphere, he gave no sign apart from a sigh and confused expression. They resumed walking.
Sensing his guilt, nature now tried to comfort him, but he refused politely, stoic expression back in place. Cossidh merely inquired of a maple what the question had been softly.
They asked if you would like to stay for a while in the house of Lord Elrond, it replied after the answer was relayed to it. Forgive me, but-
Thank you, Cossidh interrupted and turned away, thoughts in turmoil.
OoOoOoO
"My lord! My lord!"
Lord Elrond Peredhil turned away from the balcony where he had been relaxing and admiring his refuge, facing an excited young elf who was walking swiftly down the hallway towards him. Elrond noted his ever-so-slightly rumpled tunic and mussed hair which the elf smoothed absentmindedly, before meeting his eyes steadily.
The young one bobbed his head before announcing, "Estel has returned from the Wilds."
The Noldo was moderately surprised. Ever since he had told his foster-son that in order to marry Arwen, he would have to gain the throne of Gondor, the boy had gone back to the Dunedain with the intention of staying there until he had and only visit Imladris once in a while. The lord was in no way angry over his foster-son's very early return, only mildly surprised. Arwen still dwelled here, so perhaps that was one of the reasons for returning so soon after his departure.
"Is that all, Sadron?" He inquired, knowing very well that it was not from the eagerness pulsing off him.
Sadron gave his head a shake, eyes shining. "No, my lord. There is an elf with him; a Mirkwood elf, but he has no bow."
"Indeed? These are indeed interesting tidings. Thank you for alerting me, Sadron." Elrond said seriously. They had not heard any word from Thranduil's folk since before Estel's birth.
The self-appointed messenger bowed and went at a more stately pace towards the library. He would be reaching his prime soon and the normally quiet elf was getting rather excitable.
Elrond went back to the scenery, searching the valley with his keen eyes for any sign of the two travelers.
Ah, there they were, approaching the gate. He could see that Aragorn's ranger companions had succeeded in a few of their attempts to rid the youthful heir of Isildur of elven ways as they had been trying to do since he joined their numbers. He walked like a man, dressed like one, and also had picked up on their habits is his greasy hair was anything to judge by. Estel did not look very pleased.
Switching his focus to the Mirkwood elf, the peredhil could not see his features do to the fact that the wood elf was facing away from him, apparently communing with the trees. The sun caught in his hair, making it shine like fire. It was braided in the fashion of the Mirkwood archers and yet, as Sadron had reported, had no bow or quiver. Instead, several knives and a long dagger were attached to his belt. Estel's companion moved away from the tree, facing him.
Elrond blinked in surprise. Were it not for the coppery hair, seriousness emanating from him, and thinner frame, he would have thought he was watching Legolas or Celeblas. Searching the elf's tunic, Elrond noted the lack of any insignia or mark designating rank. Perhaps the warrior was simply a very close relative of the brothers'. There had been a copper-headed elfling who had come here several centuries ago who had born a resemblance to them. Cossidh had been his name and he had been a cousin of them. Very likely, this elf was simply that elfling grown up. Yes, and practically a mirror image of those two.
The two were now at the gate and the Noldo departed from the balcony to ask Sidlir which guestroom had been prepared for the wood elf and to welcome them. He could not deny that he was anticipating their tale.
As the peredhil strolled down past elegant tapestries, windows, groves, and a couple elves, he heard an exquisite pure voice singing and a harp strumming in accompaniment. Elrond smiled as another, deeper voice joined in. Arwen and Lindir greatly enjoyed making music together and although Lindir had once been infatuated with Arwen as an elfling, they were very close friends. He paused a moment to listen for the duet was one he had not heard before. His daughter sang the part of Nimrodel, Lindir Amroth, and both did the narration.
Elrond had intended to just pass them by, but he made a detour now and entered the room with neither elf acknowledging him, so immersed were they in the melody.
The Evenstar sat on a cushioned bench, her luscious ebony curls spilling down her back and her starlit eyes half-closed, long lashes shading them. Her burgundy gown flowed gently to the floor where Lindir reclined; harp balanced on his knee and leaned against his chest. His eyes were on his instrument and his dark blue tunic and silver legging accented his hair. Soft curtains billowed in a breeze around them.
As they finished, both greeted him with smiles and nods. Elrond smiled appreciatively at the two singers. "I trust that you will favor us all with that song tonight."
The musician bent his head as he adjusted a string. "Of course, my lord. I re-read the tale of Nimrodel and Amroth this morning and felt the urge to compose something of them. I hope it is passable?"
Arwen laughed lightly, admonishing him. "You know that it is lovely, Lindir, and tonight, everyone will tell you so. Every composition by you is beautiful and you know that."
Lindir clutched his harp to his chest and proclaimed mock-seriously. ""I can only sing if you sing with me, fairest of all elf-maidens."
"But of course, my dear Lindir. How could I resist when your songs are so enchanting?"
"I thank you for the joy you grant me by saying such," the ellon swept his hand out from his heart in a gesture of gratitude. He cocked his head as he rose to his feet. "If I am not mistaken, I hear Estel's voice at the gate. He has returned soon."
Elrond nodded. "You are not, Lindir. I go now to welcome him. Would either of you care to accompany me?" He kept his eyes on Arwen, waiting for her reaction.
The elleth hid a smile. "No, thank you, Father. I fear my presence would prove distracting to him. I shall greet him later."
"Very well," Elrond said, appreciating her wisdom. Arwen did not quite return Estel's feelings, but felt a great affection for him nonetheless.
As he left, Lindir plucked his harp and began a segment of the Lay of Leithian with his own embellishments. Arwen laughingly protested.
The elf lord descended a flight of spiraling stairs, examining his surroundings to be certain that all was in good order, which of course it was. Glorfindel's golden head vanished through the doorway as he went to welcome the newcomers as well, followed by Sidlir.
Halting in the doorway, Elrond watched as the Balrog Slayer enthusiastically clapped Aragorn on the back and exchanged jests. The Mirkwood elf narrowed his eyes at the Last Homely House and his responses to the warm comments others gave him were rather cold. Up close, his extremely strong resemblance to Legolas and Celeblas was even more marked.
Estel's eyes alighted on him and Elrond was about to go to him, when another beat him to it.
"Estel! Oh, my dear Estel! Are you hearty? Uninjured? Oh, I've been so worried about you in the Wilds. How is Halbarad? You must be tired and hungry. Oh, my son!"
Smiling, the Firstborn made way for Gilraen, who practically flew to her son from the gardens, auburn hair streaming and gown caught up in one hand. She forcefully embraced her son, talking to him all the while. The young ranger happily returned the embrace and answered her questions as quickly as he could.
Gilraen pulled back to examine him closely. A bloodstain on his leggings received her attention. "Oh, no. What happened, Estel? Here, let me tend to it. Is it serious?"
Estel brushed her fretting hands away. "It is nothing, Mother. This is from an old wound, but the stain will not come out."
The Noldo decided to come to his foster-son's rescue. "Estel, it is good to have you back in Imladris." He said kindly.
The young man straightened and bowed. "My lord Elrond, it is good to be here. Imladris is as fair as ever."
Saddened, he placed a hand on the heir of Isildur's shoulder. "My son…There is no need to call me lord. You know this."
Shifting uncomfortably, Estel met his foster-father's gaze and Elrond read there a wealth of emotions before the man looked away. The peredhil squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him, before relinquishing the ranger to an impatient Gilraen. When the Dunadan opened his mouth to protest, Elrond stopped him by saying, "You can tell after your mother tends to you."
With a fake resigned air, the Hope of Men allowed himself to be dragged off by his mother and fussed over.
The wood elf, who had witnessed all this impassively, stepped forward and inclined his head. "Lord Elrond, I am Cossidh of the Woodland Realm. It is a pleasure to be in Imladris once more."
His voice was deeper than Legolas' and not as harsh as Celeblas'. Assumptions confirmed, the elf lord returned the greeting graciously. "Welcome, Cossidh. I hope Imladris is as you remember."
This garnered no response except a flash of Cossidh's steely eyes as they darted about with a flash of confusion.
Strange, Elrond thought and continued before the silence could grow uncomfortable. "It is long since we have heard from Thranduil's folk."
Cossidh had a retort for that. "It is long since we have heard from Imladris in our realm," he said challengingly.
The Noldo had to concede to that. He tilted his head, acknowledging the accusation. "We are both at fault then." The wood elf merely stared at him haughtily. Just like Thranduil. "It is good of you to have come."
"I might not have." Cossidh flicked his gaze to the doorway Gilraen and Estel had disappeared through significantly. "Yet I am grateful that I did, however brief the stay."
Now we arrive at the point. Elrond dismissed the spectators with a glance and a wave of his hand. Sidlir stayed though, her lips lifted in a knowing smile that she would be needed to direct the guest to his quarters. "I am pleased you find our refuge so pleasant. Perhaps after you refresh yourself, you would like to see more."
The way Cossidh squinted briefly showed that he understood that the invitation was more of a request to be informed. "I would indeed."
"Come then, I will show you to your rooms."
Sidlir fell in step with the two, guiding them through the airy hallways with simple hand gestures and glances.
"I trust that you will be staying for more than one night?" Elrond asked.
The Silva seemed rather taken with the entrance to the kitchens, a strange look upon his face, before realizing he was being addressed. "Estel plans too."
"Indeed?" He obscurely observed his guest as strains of song around them ebbed and flowed.
"Yes." Now the wood elf stared at a grove of trees and the expression of bewilderment flashed across his features.
Realizing that Cossidh intended to be cryptic, Elrond decided to save his questions for later.
Sidlir led them to a bright room with an oak's branches coming through the windows and a balcony right next to the oak's trunk. Pots of flowers and small shrubs were strewn artistically about. A bed with soft green sheets folded back, a cherry wood wardrobe, and an assortment of chairs, benches, small tables, and desks were what consisted of the furniture. An elaborate painting of Tuor and Voronwe by the sea decorated one wall while the others had windows. Sidlir smiled at them, before taking an ewer to refill it.
Cossidh looked about curiously, stroking the leaves of one of the shrubs. He seemed fascinated by the painting. Elrond let him examine his room for a moment before taking a step back towards the doorway. The wood elf was startled out of his reverie. "Thank you, Lord Elrond. These quarters are more than adequate."
The peredhil lifted his chin proudly. "You are more than welcome."
As he left, the Silva slipped his pack from his back and he caught the whispered sentence, "If only Mirkwood was this light."
OoOoOoO
"There! Oh, how fine you look. So like your father…." Gilraen said wistfully as she stepped back to survey a freshly-clad, clean Aragorn. He was still dressed in Dunadan style, but had consented to wear an elvish tunic and was putting his years of dealing with elves into practice now.
For, one must see, Aragorn did not like being fussed over. He loved his mother, of course, but there were times when she…over exaggerated things. For example, he had only needed to change into a fresh pair of clothes, but she had sternly insisted that he wash, wear good clothes, put his ceremonial dagger at his belt, and allow her to make him a new set of clothes. Mothers….
The woman was frowning at him and pointed at the sword scabbard on his belt that appeared to have a sword in it. "I do not see, though, why you seem to find it necessary to carry the shards of Narsil with you on your wanderings."
The man fidgeted, having explained many times before. "I will leave them at camp or here when I go on any great journey that guarantees danger so that they will not fall into unsuited hands, Naneth."
"That does not explain why you carry them with you at all, Estel." She was looking at him expectantly.
"They remind me of what I must become and it is reassuring have them by my side."
Folding a newly-dried shirt, she sighed, but did not say anything. Gilraen placed it on his bed. "Go now. You have told me what you will and I am sure that Lord Elrond wishes to hear of your journey."
Aragorn felt guilt tug at his heart. All he had told his mother was that he and Cossidh had met and Bree and that the elf was on his way to Mirkwood. Curious, Aragorn had decided to accompany him. He had purposely avoided the topic of Legolas' supposed death, because he was not yet certain whether it was true or not and saw no reason to grieve his family and friends unnecessarily. Gilraen knew that he was hiding something, but did not press him because Aragorn usually divulged held back information after a while.
"I will see you again tonight."
"Estel." Her voice stopped him as he spun on his heel towards the door. She gave him a half-smile when he faced her again. "You still have not told me how many days you plan to stay."
The Dunadan adjusted the dagger sheath in his belt. "Today and we will leave again tomorrow. I would stay longer, but my companion begrudges all delay."
"Thank you," Gilraen dismissed him, an expression on her face that looked disturbingly like she was scheming.
He wandered the corridors in search of Elrond. Several of his friends would fall in step with him for a time, asking how he was and exchanging news, but always he refrained from speaking of the true nature of his journey. They could not tell where Elrond was though as the elf lord had apparently disappeared.
A zephyr laden with the scent of blossoming flowers wafted past his nose. Impulsively, he pivoted to the outdoors. There was a small waterfall surrounded by rocks and foliage which had been his refuge for as long as he could remember.
Feeling no need for stealth, he hummed a contemplative tune. Grass flattened beneath his feet and slowly sprang back up after the weight had been lifted. A squirrel scolded him before scurrying back into the foliage. His feet strayed in the direction of the clearing where he had first laid eyes upon Arwen, before he corrected himself and resumed his original course.
Is Arwen still here? He wondered. I doubt that she is, but I do hope that I am wrong in that.
A pebble rolled underfoot and the soft murmuring of a stream and the active wildlife going about their business gave way to a dim thunder. The elven melodies seemed to strengthen and enhance nature around him.
The youthful man relished the peace. When he was a child, he had taken it for granted, but a few excursions with Elladan and Elrohir had taught him just how precious it was. Aragorn fully intended to savor every single moment that he was here.
That was not to say, however, that he had no taste for adventure. Quite the opposite. He greatly anticipated the rest of the journey. The Dunadan had a great many questions which would be answered. Were there really giants in the mountains, for example? And were the spiders in Mirkwood as big as they were fabled to be?
Climbing easily over boulders and around the vegetation, Aragorn found that his refuge was already occupied.
Cossidh was sitting on the tallest boulder, arms wrapped around his knees and head bent forward. The elf's eyes were closed, he frowned, and his whole body was as tense as a drawn bow.
The sight of him there was a surprise. Why would an elf be 'relaxing' on stone when elves, especially Thranduil's folk, sought comfort from the trees?
"Forgive me; I had not known that this area was already occupied." He apologized, the boom of the water falling greatly drowning out noise from around.
Cossidh did not appear to have heard him, but the furrow between his brows grew deeper.
Taking a step forward with caution on the slick rocks, Aragorn called out the elf's name. "Cossidh?"
Jerking as if he was startled, the Silva slid down a few inches before regaining his balance. He turned stormy grey eyes towards the ranger, and Aragorn took a small step backwards at all the raw emotion swirling in them. Bewilderment, pain, joy, anger, and another that Aragorn did not recognize all combined as only an elf can express. Confusion was the most prominent though. The wood elf's eyes cleared, but his face was still more open then it had been since they had been together.
"Yes?" Cossidh's tone was tired and he touched his temples as if he had a headache.
Aragorn frowned, the healer in him rising. "Are you alright?"
"Of course," he responded, a little too quickly.
Not in the least bit convinced, the Dunadan stepped forward. "I do not-"
Voice curt, Cossidh over-rode his statement. "Truly, I am fine. How many days until we leave here?"
Surprised by the freely expressed feelings and questions that did not beat about the bush, but got straight to the point, Aragorn hesitated. "Tomorrow…."
Leaping down easily from his perch, the wood elf pressed his lips together, relief flitting across his features. "That is well. Lord Elrond agrees that we should arrive in Mirkwood as soon as possible. He says there is trouble there."
The ranger placed his hand on a rock. "Did he?"
"Yes. He also said that he did not feel as if Legolas' fea had left this world. Indeed, he was certain of that and said that my information confirmed it for him."
"That is a relief."
"Indeed."
"I am certain that Legolas' family and people will be exhilarated."
"Oh, I am sure that they will be. We will need to find the prince first, however."
And that is where this will take some time. I wonder who the elf that died was though…And why he was mistaken so easily for the prince. Aragorn let Cossidh pass him and sat on the stone the elf had vacated to think.
OoOoOoO
I hope that was alright. –bites fingernails nervously- Constructive criticism is much appreciated! And I promise that the next update won't be a year from now. ;)