(For additional notes and disclaimers, please see top of chapter 1.)
= As promised, (sorry, it took me awhile again...I just started this rather tedious, time consuming job, that requires way too much of my attention), here’s the next one. Legolas is back in this one, and I think there’s a little bit of Thranduil in the next one (actually it turned out there’s a little bit of Thranduil in this one too)...
I was going to post a different chapter, but the order wasn’t right, so I went with this one and made it into a two-parter. This is one I had been struggling with all last year, especially the part with Thranduil, but I think I finally got it; though I ended up totally changing the flashback from what I originally had in mind, (my initial idea just didn’t work no matter what I did with it)...
Anyway, the next two chapters are both almost done, so hopefully I’ll be able to post these three pretty close together.
(Sarah and KittenEm, thank you for your comments.
KittenEm, I’m glad you’re enjoying the story. I know sometimes it seems like the second book has become more about Mirkwood than Legolas, but if you count the chapters Legolas is in, even in flashbacks, and the chapters where he doesn’t appear at all they are almost even.
From the time I started writing this, I’ve had a clear story-line in mind when it comes to Legolas, but in writing book 2, the story sort of took paths I hadn’t planned on and turned into a 50-chapter monster – but in a good way... (At this point I am finally about 12 chapters away from finishing book 2 though)... and I’ve always tried to keep in mind that this is a Legolas-centric story and not to get too much off track...
My very first attempt at this story, almost seven years ago, (which I’ve come to deeply dislike and can only hope is no longer floating out there online somewhere), had almost none of the Mirkwood stuff, and I’ve always felt came out pretty flat. But both versions of book 1, however, were always meant to be rather short and focus on Legolas at that particular point in his story...
I’m planning book 3 to be much shorter and hopefully focus more on Legolas, (who will shortly be getting out of Harad, finally...) but you never know what might happen once I actually start writing it...
Anyway, enjoy...and thank you to everyone else who has commented...) And sorry, about any formatting weirdness; every time this site makes changes, posting becomes a pain...=
Chapter 39
Narcho Erethren pt. I
Dafi listened intently to the sounds of Mena’s deep, contented snores on the other side of the bed for several minutes before carefully sliding closer to the edge and slowly getting to his feet.
He grabbed a robe from the foot of the bed, as he moved toward the door and peered warily into the outer room, watching the Shadow Stone uncertainly, asking himself what had brought him there...
Even after he had made up his mind and moved closer, he still stood for a long moment gazing into the Stone’s smooth surface...in all these years, this was something he had never dared...
“Show me The Greenwood...” he whispered.
Immediately he saw a dense well-remembered forest, great, ancient trees he had loved to climb as a child...
Images wavered one after the other and paused on a gathering of Elves in a large garden, somewhere on the Palace grounds...a celebration it seemed, a wedding...
He wondered vaguely who had gotten married...perhaps his cousin had finally been persuaded to take a wife, he mused. Leralonde was next in line, so he must be Crown-prince now and therefore expected to wed...
He abandoned this train of thought as the image in the Stone changed again...
It was still the Palace grounds; he saw several Elf children playing together, a beautiful little girl and two boys, all fair-haired and dressed well enough to be the children of Mirkwood nobles...
He wondered whose Elflings these were; Orophin had mentioned that Feredir had a son now...
He let the images fade, as he thought of another child, his own lost son whose fate he would likely never learn...
He was about to leave this futile exercise in self-torment and try to get some sleep before Mena woke aroused again, when another scene appeared unbidden...
He saw the world on fie, Orcs, southern armies everywhere, killing, pillaging, monsters he had only heard of in the fright tales Feredir sometimes told him when young, or that his father talked about when he spoke of the War...
Elves dying, too many to count, some taken in chains alongside Humans, Hobbits and other races while everything around seemed to be burning...
Was this to be Middle Earth’s future...?
He could feel a wave of near hysteria making it’s way from the pit of his stomach...“...is there anything left to hope for...
“What of my kin...?”
The image changed again and he saw his father this time...
“Valar...” he closed his eyes against the new ache in his chest, against remembering...instinctively knowing it was not the future he was being shown this time but a day from the past...
He did not know whether it was the Stone or his own mind that brought forth the memory but he saw it in his mind as clearly as it had been that day...
He remembered it had been one of his Begetting days, not long after he began his formal training as a Novice Warrior; his father had thrown a party for him, but halfway into the evening, Legolas had lost himself in one of his favorite pastimes and lost track of the time... He was sitting on the ledge of the terrace of his father’s study, watching the stars; from somewhere he could hear the faint sounds of festive Elvish music... Even if it was only a dream, the pain was almost too much; he tried to push it back at first, but after a moment, he let the memory fill his mind and allowed himself to move through it...
“Ion nin,” he heard Thranduil’s voice, “why are you in here? It’s your begetting day, and you’ve left your guests wondering where you disappeared too...” “I was listening to the trees,” he had said turning to his father and smiled, “they’re unusually chatty tonight...” “Are they?” “You know you could probably hear them as well as I, if you wanted...you do have Woodelf blood too...” “Only by half,” said the King taking a seat beside his son, “though I did use to hear them better when I was a young Elfling,” he admitted. “It was not something Oropher encouraged much...” The Prince frowned at that. “He was a complicated Elf, my adar...” said the elder, a hint of regret in his voice. “I wish I could have met him...” “I wonder how you two would have gotten along...” “Why?” “Both too stubborn...” he said lightly, patting his son’s arm. The Prince smiled again, “That must be something else that’s in the blood...” “Well, since we’re both here,” said his father, rising, “maybe I ought to give you your gift now...” “You already did, Ada...two of them...” “I am allowed to give my youngest son several gifts on his begetting day... “And this one is special,” he said moving to the door, “tula...” The Prince got up, curiosity stirred and followed his father into the study...I> He paused for a moment at the comforting familiarness, the smells from the fireplace and from the garden that drifted in along with its sounds, feeling completely safe as he used to when he was a child...
“What is it?” he asked as Thranduil took a wrapped box from behind the desk. “Open it... “I found them the last time I was traveling from Rivendell...” said the Elvenking, looking extremely pleased with himself, as Legolas unwrapped the box and lifted the top. Inside were a pair of the most striking hunting knives he had ever seen... “...they’re beautiful... “Hannon le, Ada...” he said, happily throwing his arms around his father. “You’re welcome, Ion nin... “You can take them with you when you go back on patrol next week...” He saw the troubled look that crossed his father’s eyes at the words... He always hated causing his father to worry, but it seemed to have become a near-permanent state for the King lately, especially since Legolas was finally assigned to his first Novice class, and it had led to several arguments between them... “Ada,” he said, picking up one of knives and turning it over, “I know you worry every time I’m away...but I’m not an Elfling anymore. I’m doing what is required in Mirkwood of every Elf my age... “Would you have any Royal Prince do any different, especially your heir...?” “Nay,” said the King lightly touching his face, “but I’m afraid you’ll have to give me a little time yet to get used to the fact... “And to worry, as much as I need to,” he added. “Believe me I worried as much about your brother when he first joined the Warriors...” Legolas wasn’t sure about the exact accuracy of that statement, but didn’t say anything... “And you’ll always be my Elfling,” said the King, “even when you are thousands of years old, and you and Morwen have your own tithen pyn... “I know you’re young Ion nin, and penyth need their space...I was one once too, but I do wish we could talk as we used to...” "Aren’t we talking now...?” said the younger, returning the knife to the box and replacing the top... “That’s not what I mean,” said his father, “I’ve felt for a long time there was something troubling you... “But then you always run off before I can bring it up...” “There isn’t,” said the Prince almost too quickly, still looking at down at the box while he suddenly looked for a way out of this conversation, ”truly... “...and I don’t run off,” he protested. “I have a lot more duties now...” “Legolas,” the King gently tilted his son’s chin, “I know I can be difficult sometimes...it’s just another of those things Oropher passed on I suppose... “He and I were never close, even when I young...but I hope you know you can talk to me about anything...” “Iston,” said the younger, pushing back the little whisper at the back of his mind that tried to remind him about the one thing he could never tell his father... As long as he refused to hear that voice, and refused to think of it, he told himself, it didn’t exist... “You’ve always been here for me, Ada...especially after Nana was gone... “No matter how busy you were, I know I can always come to you... but there’s nothing to tell really... “I just want to make you proud, ada,” he said. “I never want to give you any reason to be disappointed in me...” “Nin tinu, you could never disappoint me...how could such a thing even cross your mind...?” He felt his father’s arms going around him as the king pulled him closer, and he shut his eyes more tightly, wanting more than anything to hold onto that moment... feeling the tears burning behind his closed eyelids...
========================
“Are you all right, hir nin...do you want me to send for Lord Elrond or Lord Vaurna...?”
Thranduil had not moved from where he had been standing staring into the fireplace for almost twenty minutes and Galion was starting to get worried.
“Nay...” the King finally stood back and ran a hand over his eyes, “it was just a strange memory. I know not where it came from...and for a moment I thought...”
“What?” The other Elf’s frown deepened.
“For just a moment I thought I felt my son...the touch of his mind, fleetingly...” he shook his head and pushed aside the always-present grief...
For an instant, it had felt so familiar, not like when he dreamed, this was a mental touch he had not sensed in so many years...
“It matters not...” he straightened up and took a deep steadying breath. “I’m being foolish...”
“Taren nin...” Galion began, feeling as he always did for the King’s loss...
“Once I might have held on stubbornly to such an idea, but I can’t let myself go down that path again...I know I shall only see my son again in Valinor...
“I’m fine, Galion,” said Thranduil, turning to face the concerned Woodelf who had been head of the King’s personal household staff for many centuries...
“I’m a bit tired; that’s all...
“Why don’t you go enjoy the party...” he suggested, trying not to appear like he was trying to get rid of Galion.
“If you’re sure...
“I’ll send Lothiel up with some spice tea...” he added.
“Hannon le, nin melon iaur...
“It’s just a slight headache, it’ll go away on it’s own soon enough...I’ll rest awhile and go back down in an hour or so...”
===========================
The slave pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, as the image of his father disappeared...old shame cutting painfully into his heart with renewed force, making him want to scrub at his skin until it bled...
At least his father need never know the truth, he thought, of any part of his son’s disgrace...
From somewhere he heard Mena’s footsteps coming from the bedroom and quickly pushed aside everything with long practiced skill, including the tears that had wanted to escape and what brief comfort he had found in the memory of his father’s embrace...
After another moment, he realized Mena was beside him; he had not even realized he had sunk to the floor and was sitting with his back leaning on the Stone’s table...his skull felt like he had fallen head first into a bed of thorns...
“What did you see in the stone?” he heard the Priest ask; he sounded close, but the Elf couldn’t find the strength to look up.
“...a terrible darkness,” he said, not allowing himself to even think now of the memory of his father he had been shown...
“There is a great war coming that will cover Middle Earth, so much death, grief...”
“It is the Lord Sauron’s war,” said the Man, “his final conquest of all...”
“Somehow, I will be there...I feel it...”
“He shows you more than he shows me,” there was a hint of jealousy in Mena’s voice at the statement...
“I wish truly he did not...” mumbled the slave still holding his throbbing head.
“He has some great purpose for you,” said the Priest with obvious effort lifting his bulk from where he had crouched down beside the slave. “Bedhad saw it all those years ago...
“Come back to bed,” he said, “I might not have many more nights to enjoy you before Javad takes you to Horondor...”
The slave stood wearily, lowering his eyes meekly and thought no more of the Stone or what it had shown him, just focused, until he was allowed the privilege of passing out, on the very practical task of not vomiting on Mena or his expensive bed linen and letting his mind take him anywhere but the present...
TBC...
Elvish Translations:
Narcho Erethren / Lonely Tears
Hannon le / thank you
Nin Ion / my son
Adar, Ada / Father, dad, daddy
Tithen Las / Little Leaf
Iston / I know
Tula / come
Tithen pyn / (Plural: little ones,)
Penyth / (Plural: young ones)
Nin Tinu / my little star
Naneth, Nana / Mother, mom, mommy
Taren nin / my king
Nin melon iaur / my old friend
Elf Names:
Galion – Thranduil’s butler who appears in the Hobbit. (I don’t think there is much information about him except that he serves Thranduil and apparently has a bit of a drinking problem.)
Lothiel – Female Elf name meaning flower.
(I really wish I could work faster to reunite Legolas and Thranduil, (which I am sure is one of the things most of you want to see) but until then, my only resort is to write memory or dream scenes...)
