The Games We Play

Pairings: Legolas/Haldir, Legolas/Aragorn
Rating: PG
Feedback: Always welcome at c_rhodora@hotmail.com

Part V. Paths Chosen

The Fellowship’s last few days at Caras Galadhon were spent peacefully. Although each knew that their time at the fair Elven city was drawing to a close, none spoke of it. Legolas and Haldir often disappeared for long periods of time, reemerging for the evening meal looking flushed and content. The Prince still went on his morning walks with the Dwarf, with the Guardian and occasionally the Ranger, joining them.

On the eve of the Fellowship’s departure, they were called before the Lord and the Lady once more. The choice was put before them whether to continue their journey or remain in Caras Galadhon to wait for the final end. It was resolved that the Company would go forward, though which course they would take, onwards to Minas Tirith or across the Great River’s eastern shore to Mordor, remained undecided. In order to help them as much as possible, Lord Celeborn gave them swift, light boats for the river Anduin now lay on their path and this gladdened the Company’s hearts; while Lady Galadriel bid them to rest and not to worry overmuch about the road ahead.

Nevertheless, after the Company left their presence, they called a council of their own. They debated long over what they should do and what would be the best means to fulfill their purpose, yet still came to no decision. At long last, Boromir declared that he would go to Minas Tirith to aid his people, alone if need be. Silence greeted this statement and at length, the Captain of Gondor spoke again in a hushed voice as though he were speaking to himself. The Man was deeply troubled and he broke off his train of speech before he could finish, realizing that he spoke his thoughts aloud. Only Frodo and Legolas heard his words, for the hour was late and the others had already drifted off to sleep or were preparing for bed. The Halfling looked hard at the Man, seeing something strange and new in his glance. Legolas turned his attention to Aragorn, who remained deep in thought in his own divided mind and had not heard Boromir’s words.

When everyone else had gone to sleep, the Elf tapped the Ranger on the shoulder and beckoned the Man to follow him. Aragorn stood up silently and the two companions left the pavilion.

“Where are we going?” the Man asked when they were out of earshot of the others.

“To a place where we can enjoy the beauty of Lórien one last time; a place where you may smoke in peace,” the Elf couldn’t help but add cheekily. “Come,” the Prince encouraged, grasping the Ranger’s hand firmly, “do not be troubled tonight. It is as the Lady Galadriel said. Our path has already been laid out before us, but we cannot yet see the way. It shall be revealed to us in due time.”

Legolas led them to the eastern part of the city through silent paths and walkways until he came to a magnificent tree, whose boughs were crowned by the moon’s pale light. Legolas began to climb the tree, expecting Aragorn to follow him.

“There is no ladder,” the Elf said, “but the way is not difficult. The branches are wide and the footholds secure. Come!” he called again.

Aragorn had climbed many trees in his youth, usually at the encouragement of a certain Elf whom he was following now. Legolas climbed quickly above him, heading for an especially large branch on the left where a figure sat leaning against the tree’s broad trunk, one leg dangling over the side. The Elf held out his hand as Legolas neared him and the Prince grasped it, easily sliding into Haldir’s lap. The Ranger looked about him and decided to settle on a large branch beside the two Elves. He eased himself onto it and relaxed against the tree trunk, legs stretched out on the wide branch. He turned his head to the right and smiled at his companions.

The view was magnificent. The city of Caras Galadhon was stretched out before them, lit with myriad lanterns and crowned with soft twilight. Gentle voices filled the air as though the inhabitants were serenading their visiting guests to sleep. A contented Ranger pulled out his pipe and lit it, blowing a series of smoke rings into the night. Legolas leaned over and squeezed the Man’s shoulder comfortingly. It almost felt as if Mithrandir were watching over them that night.

~*~*~*~

The following morning, while the Fellowship readied themselves, Elves who could speak the Common Tongue came to them bringing gifts of food and clothing. Gimli was delighted to discover that the ‘cram’ the Elves brought turned out to be a wonderfully delicious form of waybread that the Galadhrim called lembas.

“This is better than the honeycakes of the Beornings,” the Dwarf declared, eating his cake with relish. “That is a great compliment indeed, for the Beornings are the finest bakers that I know of. You are generous hosts.”

The Elves laughed and thanked the Dwarf, while Merry and Pippin examined the cakes skeptically. They had sampled some of the lembas earlier and found the bread to be tasty, but not overly filling. Legolas approached them and said with a wink, “One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man.” The two young Hobbits exchanged looks of concern, certain that the stomachs would burst before noon.

Next the Elves unwrapped the clothes they had brought, which consisted of a hood and cloak made according to the size and shape of each member of the Company. It was made from the light silken material worn by the Galadhrim, taking on the green of the leaves or the gray twilight hue of the trees as the cloak was shifted in the morning light.

“You are high in the favor of the Lady,” one of the Elves said as they fastened the cloaks onto the members of the Fellowship, “for she and her handmaidens made these clothes themselves.”

“Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people,” another Elf added.

The Galadhrim stepped away from the Company once their cloaks had been fastened, except for the Guardian who remained in front of the Prince. Haldir’s long fingers lingered over the broach at the base of Legolas’ throat. Unlike the other Lórien broaches shaped in the form of delicate green leaves with silver veins, Haldir had given Legolas his own broach of green and gold with a jewel set at its center. The Prince covered the Guardian’s hand with his own and squeezed it, leaning over to press his lips against Haldir’s. They did not mind that the others watched and when the chaste kiss ended, Haldir stepped back in line with the Galadhrim and together the Lórien Elves bowed before their guests.

After the morning meal, the Fellowship gathered by the fountain to say farewell. Haldir came striding across the wide lawn, for he would be their guide once again to the river’s shores. He slipped his hand through the Mirkwood Elf’s and much like the time when he had led the Company to Caras Galadhon, two golden Elves walked at the head of the line through the city’s green ways. The paths were empty, but above them could be heard the sound of murmuring and singing voices. Haldir led them down the southern slopes, past the great gate and across the white bridge onto the paved road. Eventually, they turned away from the road and entered a deep thicket of mallorn trees and passed on through rolling woodlands leading ever southwards towards the Great River.

The Company had walked some ten miles and noon was at hand before they came upon a high green wall. Passing through it, they entered a long lawn of shining grass studded with golden elanor. Before them the lawn ran out into a tongue, dividing the Silverlode on the right and west of the shore from the Great River that ran on the left and east. On the bank of the Silverlode, some way further up, was a hythe of white stones and white wood. Here boats and ships of all sizes were moored. Beside them, three small gray boats had been prepared for the travelers.

The Fellowship was arranged so that Aragorn was in one boat with Frodo and Sam; Boromir, Merry and Pippin in the second; Legolas and Gimli in the third, where most of the goods and packs were stowed. When all was prepared, Aragorn led them up a trial run up the Silverlode. Haldir had warned that although the boats were light-built and would not sink though laden with heavy goods, they were crafty and likely to be wayward if mishandled. The trial run proved to be successful, despite Sam clutching the side of his boat in anxiety, and soon the Company was on their way, following the swift current. As they rounded a sharp bend, they saw a magnificent swan moving regally towards them, its beak of burnished gold and eyes of jet-black. They discerned that it was a boat fashioned in the likeness of a swan being steered by two Elves with black paddles. In the middle of the vessel sat Lord Celeborn and beside him stood the Lady Galadriel, strumming a harp in her hand as she sang.

Galadriel finished her song as her boat drew alongside Aragorn’s and she said, “We have come to bid our last farewell and speed you with blessings from our land.”

“Though you have been our guests,” Celeborn added, “you have not yet eaten with us. We bid you to join us in a parting feast here between the flowing waters that will bear you far from Lórien.”

The Swan passed on to the hythe and the Fellowship followed; Legolas secretly glad that his parting from Haldir had been delayed. The Guardian was of a like mind as he helped the Prince out of his boat. A feast had been laid out on the green lawn and the Company ate and drank their fill in a sedate mood. Legolas and Haldir sat a little apart from the rest of the group, seeing only each other. Aragorn marked how the two lovers seemed strangely present yet remote, living in their suspended reality, seemingly free from the constraints of time. There was no sadness in their looks and gestures and the Ranger wondered if they saw their parting the same way as Men do when they say farewell.

After the meal, Galadriel called the attention of the members of the Fellowship and asked them to drink from the cup of farewell. Then she presented each of them with gifts on behalf of her husband and herself. To Boromir she gave a belt of gold; to Legolas she gave a bow of the Galadhrim and a quiver; to Gimli she gave three strands of her golden hair; Merry and Pippin each received a Noldorin dagger; Sam the Gardener was gifted a small box filled with earth from Galadriel’s own garden which when sprinkled would bloom unlike any garden on Middle Earth; and to Frodo she bestowed the light of Eärendil, the Elves most beloved star.

Among all the gifts presented to the Fellowship, it was Aragorn’s gift that touched Legolas the most. Appointed the new leader of the Company, Galadriel had called the Ranger before her first and they had spoken in soft, elvish tones.

“What have your learnt during your stay here?” she asked kindly.

“I have found my peace and my strength in your fair land,” he answered. “Whatever paths I walk, I know that I shall not tread them alone.”

“Then I am glad,” Galadriel replied. “Here is the gift of Celeborn and Galadriel to you, leader of the Company.” Then she gave the Man a sheath for his sword, overlaid with a tracery of flowers and leaves. On the sheath, in Elven runes composed of many gems was the name Andúril and the lineage of the sword. “In this hour,” Galadriel continued, raising her voice and speaking in the Common Tongue so that all would understand, “you must take the name that was foretold for you, Elessar, the Elfstone of the house of Elendil!”

Aragorn stood before them then and in the eyes of the others, he appeared changed. They had not noticed before how tall and kingly he stood, how noble his brow, how wise his gaze. All wondered at this change, except for Legolas, who had long known the destiny placed before his friend and the Prince’s heart swelled with the knowledge that they had both chosen well. Aragorn sheathed Andúril into its new home, his eyes briefly meeting the Prince. The two friends knew that their paths would remain entwined until the end.

As the Company steered their boats down the Silverlode to join the fast-flowing Anduin, Galadriel had spoken her own words of farewell into the Prince of Mirkwood’s mind. “Stay true to your heart, son of Thranduil. It will not lead you astray. You will see him again.”

Legolas took comfort in her words. All foretelling was lost in these dark days, but nevertheless, he believed this to be true. In their boat, Gimli openly wept before him and he placed a hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder to reassure his friend, while the others watched as the Lady of the Golden Wood faded from their sight. Legolas could only think of his lover and their final moments together. Haldir had braided his hair that morning, infusing the delicate knots with all that he held dear until the Prince could feel their shared love flowing through his very veins. Their parting kiss had not been filled with sadness or sorrow, only love and strength. Legolas steeled himself with renewed hope as he pushed his leaf-shaped paddle into the water. Their Quest would succeed and Sauron would be defeated. He would fight for this, for his family and his people, for all the free lands of Middle Earth, but most of all; he would fight so that he would be reunited with Haldir again.


~The End~