He had dreamed it: a great war axe, triple bladed, the bitts damascened and the haft patterned with amber cabochons. In the eye of the axe were two great beryls of deepest green. In his dream, he had heard its voice, a sharp, metallic resonance like the strike of steel on stone:
Through muscle and bone I cut. Through steel and plate and iron. I guard fore and aft. I am the silent slide of steel.
From his treasury had come the amber cabochons, brought from the Hithaeglir near the ancient place the Dwarves called Kheled-zâram, and the two beryls of deep green that glowed like the sunlight through deep pools. These he had cupped in his hand feeling their power and he had leaned over them and awoken them, invoking the Power of the Wood, of Earth and Air and Fire.
You are the fierce watch, he had told them. The fierce gaze. You are the Braigtîr-Hend.
His skin had prickled then as if they had opened like sleepy eyes and pierced him with their sharp gaze.
Anglach- Legolas' best friend, one of those guards 'slain or taken' during Smeagol's escape.
Chapter Text
Chapter 2 Letters
In Eryn Lasgalen, Thranduil gazed out from his flet high up in the canopy of the forest. The leaves rustled in the fullness of Summer and the purple emperor butterflies flitted over the tops of the tall trees. He turned the tall stem of a goblet round and round in his long fingers and wondered if Laersul had been successful in his commission. In his other hand was a loosely bound sheaf of letters. Some were from his kinsman, Celeborn. Another from Elrond. The rest were from Legolas. He knew the contents of each one by heart.
It seemed his youngest and most wayward son was in no hurry at all to return home and that his travels with Gimli Gloinsson were part of the adventure. He was glad that Legolas had Gimli at his back, glad that he had found someone to guard him and to bring him home. For the letters themselves contained more than a hint that Legolas himself might not have come home at all had Gimli not been travelling this way too.
He did not need to look at any of the letters to know what they said.
The first letter from Legolas had been brought to him by Gimli's own father, returning form the Council of Elrond to Erebor. He had made the detour to tell Thranduil of their sons' quest and give to him a hurried letter in Legolas' own hand.
'Dearest Ada,
I love you. I am crossing the Hithaeglir with Mithrandir and then will choose my path. You know I will listen to my heart and do what is right for the Wood. I will be careful, I promise.
Please take care of Gwilileth as I think she will have gone home by now.
Love
PS: Bilbo Baggins sends his best regards and hopes very much that you and he will meet again someday.
PPS: I hope you haven't killed Galadhon and Alagos. It was not their fault.
The second had been given him by Celeborn at the Feast of Reunion after they had met near the ruins of Dol Guldur. But it was not only Legolas' letter but news of him that Thranduil hungered and Celeborn had understood only too well how the absence of a child tore at one's heart.
'The company remained with us for some weeks,' Celeborn had said as they sat together. He told him all he could, of the flight of the Fellowship to Lothlorien and of what he had learned whilst they had sheltered in the Golden Wood. He had spoken of the Fellowship; of Legolas' merry heart and the friends he had made while he was there. 'When they left, I gave Legolas a gift of a Lorién bow,' Celeborn had said comfortingly. 'They are longer and more suited to battle on the plains where they were headed for his own bow is suited to battle under the trees and I was concerned about the battles he would face ahead. He was much comforted by his companions.' He had paused for a moment and then added, glancing carefully at Thranduil, 'I feel I should tell you; he has become very good friends with Gimli Gloínsson, the Dwarf of Erebor. So much so that when they came at last to leave and we gave them boats to take them more quickly down the Anduin, Legolas shared his boat with Gimli.'
Thranduil had nearly choked but he had seen that Celeborn had hidden a smile.
'Once given, a Dwarf's friendship is steadfast,' Celeborn had said after a moment, as if he too were discovering something he had only just learned, 'and my hope is that it has served them both well. I think they will not let the other fall.'
It seemed that Celeborn had been proven right. On the eve before they had left, Legolas had entrusted Celeborn with a letter in the hopes that he might be able to get it to Thranduil.
'Dearest Ada (and Galion), (for he would have guessed that Galion would have been reading it over Thranduil's shoulder)
I write this in the hope that it may be delivered if I do not see you before then. I hope I do see you. I miss you all very much.'
There was a blot where he had rested his hand and Thranduil imagined Legolas sitting under the mallorn trees of Lothlorien and looking up at the stars, trying to write.
'A lot has happened. As you know (I hope my last letter got to you from Imladris) I am travelling with four hobbits. There are two Men as well, and a Dwarf. The Dwarf is called Gimli and is the son of one the THOSE dwarves, but we are getting along quite well. I can't say a lot as you know. But I am all right, Ada. Don't worry. I never thought I would have a chance to write, and I do not know if this will even reach you.
'Mithrandir is…
Blotches again like Legolas had paused for a very long time and the ink was smudged. Of course now he knew that Legolas and his companions had believed Mithrandir had been killed by the Balrog. Whenever he thought of the next words, his heart felt very full and he wished more than anything in the world that he could gather his youngest up in his arms and press a kiss to the top of his head and tell him it was all right. For Legolas had written:
'It feels very dark right now, and I am a little afraid. I love you all very much. Ada, if anything happens, please don't despair. I will find Anglach and we will wait for you. Please do the same for me if…
Another smudge as if he could not write the next words, and then,
'If Sauron wins, we will meet again if it is true about the Halls of Waiting.
Please tell Laersul and Thalos that I love them and I know that you all love me. It is what will sustain me in the dark times ahead. I love you too, Galion.
Your loving son,
Legolas
The third letter must have been written about the time Thranduil was sitting under trees and reading the second, with the dust of Dol Guldur not yet settled and the fires in the Wood not yet quenched. It did not arrive, of course, until much later when Thranduil was home and came with the messengers from the new King of Gondor to announce Sauron's fall and his own ascension.
Dearest Ada (and Galion)
We have done it. I am sure you have already heard, even as I write this for I have had news of you and that Dol Guldur is thrown down and that you and Celeborn have met under the trees. I do not know if the battle rages on at home though and I pray with all my heart that you are all safe. There was a time when.. (this was crossed out)
I am sorry- Gimli says I must hurry as there is not much time before the messengers are to depart to announce Aragorn as King to his allies. You remember Strider, the Man who brought Smeagol. He is of course, Aragorn and the new King of Gondor. He is my friend and has a lot more names. Please tell Laersul that I have actually seen mumakils and oliphants. I wish Anglach had been here. Gimli says that the oliphant only counts as one but there were about twenty warriors on it.
Thranduil guessed at the meaning of that of course, for Legolas and Anglach had always competed and cheated outrageously. For a moment he experienced a sharp stab of jealousy on Anglach's behalf. But Thranduil shook himself. Anglach had not a jealous bone in his body, and he, like Thranduil, would be comforted to know that as Celeborn had said, Legolas had found such a friend in the darkest of times for those times had clearly been very dark indeed.
The letter had gone on.
Mithrandir is not dead after all. He is dressed not grey anymore but white. I know Galion will say that is very impractical. I wish we had had some lembas, Galion because there were a lot of Orcs and there were a few times I could have done with a stash of lembas.
Thranduil smiled for Galion's lembas was legendary for its ballistic potential: Laersul said it could drop a charging Warg at two hundred yards.
The orcs are nearly all dead now. Be careful that they haven't made their way north, Ada. I am worried that any left will head for Gundabad now and might come through the Wood. Ada, when we defeated Saruman, he sent me a vision of the Wood under attack and. (There was heavy crossings out so the words could not be read here) Please be careful, Ada.
Those last lines had been underlined many times and Thranduil wondered what the vision was that Saruman had sent him. He was quite sure that Saruman was not seeking to help Legolas or to send a warning to Thranduil. It would have been to rattle Legolas, to seek to break their fellowship. But even so, one did not simply discount a vision, sharp-toothed though it might well be. It was always well to be on one's guard.
I have to go as the messengers are leaving, Gimli says. I know you will worry about me, Ada, but please don't. Gimli has saved my life many times over. We have become friends. I have had a…I don't know what to call it. Orcs sought me out and a venom infected me very badly but Elrohir, son of Elrond, cured me at great cost to himself. He would have died. But I am completely recovered and you must not worry. I have become close to him.
I pray that you are all safe. I love you all very much, Galion, I love you too.
Your loving son,
Legolas.
The last paragraphs were very rushed; he could see where Legolas' hand, never tidy, had smudged the ink. Laersul had despaired over the despatches from Legolas when he was in the East Bight and had even reprimanded him. But these blotches and smudges brought such an ache in Thranduil's chest that he even now when it was all over, he pressed a hand over his chest.
Legolas had told him much in that short letter. I have become close to him, he had written about Elrohir Elrondion.
Not, as he had written of Gimli, we have become friends.
The last letter was much longer. Written at leisure and full of details, about Hobbits, the White City, Aragorn and his new bride. And Elrohir Elrondion.
But there were certain extracts Thranduil had read over and over, in an agony of fear.
During this time, Ada, I have (heavy crossing out) endured a little hardship but be assured that I am fine and fully recovered. This I owe two people in particular; Elrohir, son of Elrond, who has become dear to me, Ada, and Gimli, who came to find me when I was lost. He says I am not allowed to go anywhere on my own now. I am afraid that in the hardship I lost my knives that you gave me but Gimli has made me new ones. They are called the Ale-gezên-aozh.(It's pronounced Allay- gaze'en- off) They have kept watch over me somehow. Much as Gimli has. I hope that you will welcome both my friends when finally I come home.
This 'hardship' as Legolas called it, had haunted Thranduil, filled his dreams with terror. In the city of Men, he knew there were catacombs. If a Dwarf was needed to find Legolas and Aragorn the Ranger could not, it could only mean that Legolas had been lost underground. Had his bright-souled child been lost beneath the city of stone, in the catacombs, the death-temples of Men? His knives had been lost? Or taken? By whom? By what?
Thranduil wondered too what Elrohir Elrondion was to his child for Legolas wrote of him less than he wrote of Gimli, but there was a quality in his words that alerted Thranduil to something else. I have become close to him…He has become dear to me.
Thranduil drank wine from the goblet without tasting it. The Sons of Thunder they were called, as if they had no father or mother but were created from the storm. But they were not the storm. They were half-blood Peredhel and might follow their fated sister and take the Paths of Men.
There was one other sentence that filled him with even greater dread.
On a clear day, when the wind comes from the west you can smell salt. And there are white gulls that cry.
Thranduil could almost smell the salt spray on the parchment, could hear the cry of the gulls in Legolas' words and he wanted to leap onto his horse and gallop south without pause until he found Legolas and hauled him up and swept him back home. Safe.
But it was too late for that.
'Fuck you, Mithrandir,' he said quietly into the silence for it had been Mithrandir who had asked that they keep that damned creature, Smeagol. Mithrandir had exploited Anglach's kindness by asking them to hope for his cure, and then when he had Legolas in his grasp, had lured Thranduil's youngest child into a foolish quest that might not have ended at all well. Thranduil was glad of its success, obviously, but the cost was too great; both Anglach and now Legolas. Because he knew without any doubt whatsoever that Legolas had cuiviéar.
It seemed too that he already owed much to Gimli Gloínsson. And Elrohir Elrondion. Perhaps they were a way of keeping Legolas tethered to Middle Earth, like he might fly off on the west wind otherwise, following the gulls to the Sea.
The axe he had commissioned would be magnificent. He had dreamed it: a great war axe, triple bladed, the bitts damascened and the haft patterned with amber cabochons. In the eye of the axe were two great beryls of deepest green. In his dream, he had heard its voice, a sharp, metallic resonance like the strike of steel on stone:
Through muscle and bone I cut. Through steel and plate and iron. I guard fore and aft. I am the silent slide of steel.
From his treasury had come the amber cabochons, brought from the Hithaeglir near the ancient place the Dwarves called Kheled-zâram, and the two beryls of deep green that glowed like the sunlight through deep pools. These he had cupped in his hand feeling their power and he had leaned over them and awoken them, invoking the Power of the Wood, of Earth and Air and Fire.
You are the fierce watch, he had told them. The fierce gaze. You are the Braigtîr-Hend.
His skin had prickled then as if they had opened like sleepy eyes and pierced him with their sharp gaze.
None but Hallvarðr Oddresson would do for this gift, the swordsmith who made Gystalya, that Dain himself had bestowed upon Thranduil to replace Orcrist. For Thranduil had clasped Thorin Oakenshield's dying hand about the hilt of Orcrist and laid the Arkenstone upon his breast.
0o0o0o0o
Next chapter: Gimli's letters to Gloin.