The Last Wood Elf

Chapter 7 - Grimbeorn

 

 

Legolas walked between Sefa and Folvar as they approached a wide ring of tall thick hedge. There was a small entrance before them, an archway constructed of wood, but no gate and no guards. The villagers halted a little ways before the hedge, afraid to go too close. Legolas stretched his neck and used his keen vision to try to see through the entrance, but all he found were pine trees just beyond the arch.

 

Folvar signaled to the rest of the people to stay where they were while he went to speak with Grimbeorn, son of Beorn, and new chieftain of the Beornings. The Woodsman nodded to his wife, Sefa, and she took a step forward. Legolas grasped her arm, fearful of his foster parents leaving him. She smiled and kissed his head, “I think it is best if you stay here with the other’s until we properly announce ourselves. The Beornings are not fond of visitors, but they know the Woodsmen and trust us more than any stranger.”

 

Legolas released her arm and disappointedly took a few steps backwards. Sefa looked to Katala’s mother, who was closest to Legolas. “Will you . . .?”

 

The woman nodded with a kind smile upon her lips and laid a hand upon the elf’s shoulder. Legolas looked on with concern for his sudden abandonment, but Katala came up next to him, “It’s alright. They won’t be long.” She looked down and watched his fingers twist together and separate nervously. She reached out and took one of his hands, lacing her fingers with his. Legolas looked at their joined hands then to Katala, a sweet smile meeting his worried eyes. He calmed instantly, and turned his attention back to Sefa and Folvar, as they stepped through the archway and disappeared.

 

Eventually, Sefa and Folvar came back and told the other’s it was alright, but to leave the wagons, the horses, and their belongings where they were. The Beornings would take care of their things while the group of villagers came into Grimbeorn’s home for food. Everyone walked calmly towards the entrance.

 

Legolas stepped through the wooden archway and noticed the deep green well-manicured lawn and tall pines that looked as if they had been deliberately placed around the inside of the hedge. A stone pathway led towards another ring of foliage, blueberry bushes to be exact. Past that, the stone pathway led to a very large elongated log cabin with a tall thick wooden door at its center, windows lining the sides, and a sturdy wood-shingled roof. From left to right, it looked as though the building stretched a mile wide.

 

He was halfway between the blueberry bushes and the cabin, when Legolas saw the thick door begin to open, creaking on its hinges as it did. His eyes widened as he looked upon the grand figure of a man stepping through, arms outstretched as he welcomed the villagers with a low deep rumbling voice. He was at least two heads taller than Folvar. This was Grimbeorn, chieftain of the Beornings. Just as Katala had explained, he had thick black hair that hung down below his shoulders, and a matching beard and mustache. Dark bushy eyebrows were set above russet brown eyes, and a bulbous nose finished off his features. He wore a long wool tunic that ended just above his bare knees, and belted at the waist.  The tunic was sleeveless, and exposed the man’s large muscled arms that looked as if he could crush the skull of a troll with ease. Grimbeorn truly was a giant, Legolas thought, and he was glad the Woodsmen were on friendly terms with him.

 

“Welcome! Welcome, my Northman kin!” Grimbeorn crooned in a baritone voice that sounded like thunder rolling. “Please, won’t you make yourselves at home? I’m sure you are quite exhausted after your journey.”

 

Legolas looked up at the giant as he passed by, and his hood slipped back from his head. Grimbeorn glanced down at the youth with a smile, but his features froze briefly when he saw the pointed tips of Legolas’ ears protruding through his fine straight hair. The elf noticed the man’s hesitation and looked away quickly, grabbing for the hood of his cloak. Sefa, who had seen the exchange, pulled Legolas to her side.

 

“He is with Folvar and me,” she said quietly.

 

Grimbeorn looked at Legolas once more and then back to Sefa who spoke, “My husband will explain once we are settled.” She walked through the doorway, hoping the chieftain would not stop and pull her to the side. When he did not, she sighed with relief. Neither she nor Folvar mentioned that they brought an elf with them. It was not a bad thing, but the Beornings liked to know every bit of business before allowing any outsiders into their home. The couple would no doubt have to answer Grimbeorn’s questions later.

 

The hall was massive in height as well as length. The vaulted ceiling was made of wide wooden planks with beams that stretched from one side to the other. Wood columns supported the roof, and looked like enormous trees standing in a row on each side from front to back. The hall’s windows were covered by slatted shudders, allowing very little light in. There were no wall decorations such as tapestries or weapons, and no furniture, except for several long tables that lined the middle of the hall. The tables had tree stumps for chairs, wide enough to support the huge Beornings. Half way down the hall, there was a fire pit, and open vents in the ceiling above to let the smoke escape. There was no metal, no gold and no carvings depicting any scenes. Everything was plain and simple.

 

As the people filtered in, they found seats at the tables. Once a table filled up, the Beorning women came in through two sets of doors on the right side of the hall. They carried trays of fruit and honey-cakes, which they placed on the tables. Then they gestured to the people to help themselves.

 

Legolas watched these unusual women. They were as tall as the Woodsmen—some were taller—and had black hair like Grimbeorn, but smoother and longer. Their features were rather man-like, with thick eyebrows, and the same globular nose and flared nostrils. They wore similar tunics made of wool, but they hung just below the knee. None of the Beorning women wore shoes, unlike the men who wore boots with straps that wrapped around them. They were sturdy looking women, big boned, tall and broad shouldered. They looked as if they needed no protection by their men, and could fight just as ferociously. Legolas hoped never to find out.

 

He followed Sefa, and sat next to her at the second table they came to. The tree stump was a good distance away from the table and he was a bit uncomfortable. Katala came up to him and smiled, “Can I share a seat with you? It will free up another seat for someone else if we sit on the same stump.” Her mother sat at the table across from Sefa, smiling as she watched the children interact.

 

“Sure,” Legolas answered and moved over, though he didn’t need to. There was room for a third person on the tree stump, should someone not be able to find a place to sit. Finally, Folvar joined his wife and the table filled to capacity. The Beorning women came in with their trays full of goods, set them down, and gestured to the guests to eat. Legolas took a handful of grapes and handed them to Katala. Then he took blueberries for himself. They traded a few of their fruit so that they each had a combination.

 

Katala looked up and around as she popped another grape into her mouth, “It is rather dark in here the shudders covering the windows.” She twitched her nose, “and the smell of smoke tickles my nose.”

 

“I can hardly see to the other end of the hall from here.” Legolas leaned back, and looked around behind Katala, narrowing his eyes, “I wonder what all goes on in this room.”

 

Katala followed Legolas’ sight, but she could see nothing, “I wonder if this is where they gather and turn into bears.”

 

Legolas sat up straight again and regarded his friend, “Do you still believe that tale? I think they dress in bear skins and prowl around the woods.”

 

“Believe what you want, Legolas, but I think it is true, and I bet they can be very dangerous in a bear state.”

 

“Well if it is true,” Legolas challenged, “then where are the animal servants? Where are the dogs that walk on two legs and balance a tray on their paws? Where are the goats who serve tea?”

 

“We do not use the animals as servants anymore,” said a deep voice from behind them.

 

Legolas and Katala slowly turned their heads, and came face to face with a pair of legs that looked as thick as tree trunks. Grimbeorn had walked up behind the children as they were talking and overheard Legolas’ doubt. “My father Beorn kept the animals and employed them as such, but when I became chieftain, I gave them the choice to stay as servants or not. Now their children and their children’s children roam my land freely, though if called upon they will gladly help.” Grimbeorn was amused by their jaw-dropped expressions, as he caught them off guard. He gestured to the food on the table, “Might I suggest a honey-cake? They are said to be the best by far, and I must agree.” He smiled down at the pair of friends then moved on to Folvar and leaned down, speaking in his ear. Folvar nodded and turned to Sefa.

 

“I shall return in a bit. He has some things that he’d like to discuss with me.” Folvar kissed his wife on her offered cheek and smiled to Legolas before he followed Grimbeorn through a door on the opposite side of where the food came from.

 

Legolas watched them go, and then turned back around. He slumped forward with a worried expression. Sefa took notice and brushed his hair from his shoulder. He looked at her with his bright blue eyes. “They are going to talk about me, aren’t they?”

 

Sefa furrowed her brow, “What makes you think that?”

 

“I saw Grimbeorn’s surprise when he realized that I was an elf,” Legolas said quietly.

 

“But the Beornings have no dislike of the elves,” Katala chimed in, after listening to their conversation.

 

“Katala, we should give them some time to themselves,” her mother said from across the table as she stood.

 

Katala jumped down from the stump, “I’ll see you later, Legolas.”

 

He nodded and watched her walk off, wishing he could go with her. Sefa covered his arm with her hand. “I am sure there are many things they have to discuss, and an elf amongst a village of Woodsmen will be the least of them.”

 

“I wish we could just return home,” he murmured.

 

“Oh, my dear boy,” Sefa sighed, “I wish that too.”

 

* * *

 

Folvar followed Grimbeorn, stepping through a door that led to a courtyard out back. Behind the long wooden cabin, the Beornings grew many different kinds of gardens, vegetables, herbs and flowers. White stone pathways separated the different gardens and allowed for easy access. Further down, at the far end of the immense house, was where the Beorning kept bees. There was row after row of pine boxes with bees buzzing around them. It was obvious that these people were well educated in the making of honey, as well as farming. Everything that thrived in this area was edible. This was because they did not eat animal flesh of any kind, nor did they hunt or use animal skins or fur for clothing or other resources.

Grimbeorn led Folvar along one of the many pathways, away from the house where he was sure they could talk freely. Then he turned to the Woodsman, and crossed his large muscled arms over his chest. “Folvar, my friend, you did not mention that you brought an elfling with you. Why would you keep this from me? It would not have altered my decision to allow your people refuge, though I am quite curious as to where he comes from, and why he is with you.”

 

“I must apologize for not informing you upon our arrival, but the elf child is in my protection, and felt I had no other choice. As to where he comes from, it is quite a story.”

 

Grimbeorn shifted his weight from one side to the other. “I have some time. Perhaps you will start at the beginning.”

 

Folvar proceeded to tell Grimbeorn about Elhadron and Legolas, finding them near their territory, and learning about the destruction of Mirkwood. The Beornings had heard of the tragedy of Thranduil’s people, but thought all had perished. The chieftain was upset when he learned that the elf child’s only link to his heritage, Elhadron, had also passed on. “So you see, he is my responsibility,” Folvar finished.

 

“And what does a Woodsman know about bringing up an elf?” Grimbeorn asked. As they talked, he led Folvar to another area of the backyard garden where there was a fire pit surrounded by a ring of tree stumps. It was empty, but full of grey ashes and black soot covering the stones of the pit. The giant gestured for Folvar to sit and then joined him.

 

Folvar looked to the ground, the palms of his hands firmly planted on his knees. “I don’t know much, Grimbeorn, and that is for sure. What I do know is that the enemy has seen him and knows we harbored elves. It is the reason we fled from our home. Their numbers have increased. If we had stayed, they would have annihilated the village. I cannot even be sure that we will have a home to go back to. Now I am afraid that if the child stays with us, he will always be in danger.”

 

Grimbeorn looked at Folvar with compassion, “What were the wishes of his caretaker? That is where you will find your answer.”

 

“Elhadron was abiding by the last words of the boy’s father. He wanted Legolas taken safely away from the woods.” Folvar stopped and looked up at Grimbeorn, “I have done that. I cannot take him back to the village.”

 

Grimbeorn’s eyes widened as he sat up straight, a stern look settling on his face. “Are you suggesting that I take the elfling?”

 

Folvar could sense the chieftain’s hesitation. “I don’t know what else to do. It was a dangerous risk to bring him this far. I cannot bring him back to the village … if there is still a village to go back to. Your house is the safest place I know of. Your name alone strikes terror in the enemy.  They dare not advance on your home. I can think of no better place for the boy.”

 

Grimbeorn twisted the hairs of his beard and thought before he responded. He sighed deeply, “If the enemy’s numbers have grown as much as you say, then I fear an attack will come regardless of our reputation, and especially if word reaches them about the elfling. However, this is not my only concern, Folvar. My people grow wary with each day that passes. The growing evil has put them on the defensive, and some have chosen to remain in their bear state for longer lengths of time. They are not only a danger to our enemies, but also to any outsiders who come into our territory … the elf included.” Grimbeorn leaned forward, his thick muscled arms coming to rest on his thighs, as he contemplated an answer. After some careful thought, he sat up straight again, and regarded Folvar with a shake of his head, “No, I’m sorry my friend, but I cannot take the elf child.”

 

Folvar slumped forward and slowly nodded, “I understand.”

 

“Why do you not take him to Rivendell or to Lothlórien where he can be with his own kind? That seems like the most rational choice,” Grimbeorn asked.

 

“I cannot do that. A rift had grown between the wood elves and Lothlorien. Even Rivendell was not a foreseeable alternative. Elhadron said that neither of these were an option, but more importantly, the boy’s father was against it. Now, Legolas is in my care, and I must honor the wishes of both his father and Elhadron. I would rather risk taking him back to the village before I would hand him over to either elvish realm.”

 

Both men grew silent as they tried to come up with a sensible solution. Folvar got to his feet and began pacing the white stone pathway. The whole situation bothered him tremendously. He and Sefa had become quite attached to Legolas. They loved him as if he was their own and they did not want to give him up, but knew they must do what was best for him.

 

“Have you given any thought to our cousins to the south, the Rohirrim?” Grimbeorn said after a considerable silence.

 

Folvar stopped pacing and slowly turned to Grimbeorn, “Rohan?” He shook his head as he looked away, “No, I do not think they would take him.”

 

“They have a great military force. They could train him to fight, teach him discipline, and raise him as one of their own warriors. If what you say about the boy is true, he is destined to become a strong soldier, and I can think of no better environment.” Grimbeorn did his best to get Folvar reconsider.

 

Folvar remained standing, staring at the ground. Finally, with a nod, he spoke, “What you say makes sense. Let me give this some thought.”

 

“If by that you mean how you will tell Sefa—” Grimbeorn added, but was interrupted.

 

Folvar smiled. “Aye, my friend, telling Sefa will be the most difficult thing. She absolutely adores Legolas, but we have discussed it once or twice. It will not come as a complete shock to her.”

 

* * *

 

“Folvar, what does King Théoden know about raising an elf?” Sefa argued. Folvar had finished speaking with Grimbeorn, and spent his time thinking about his decision. Now, he and his wife were in their quarters discussing Legolas and his future, while the boy was out playing with the other children.

 

“What do we know for that matter, but we have managed to integrate him into our society,” Folvar refuted.

 

“We had Elhadron then, don’t forget.  We may have taught him how to fight, but Elhadron taught him about being elvish, and if we know anything of it now, it’s because of him.”

 

Folvar went to her and touched the side of her face with his fingers, “Sefa, my heart, you know we cannot take Legolas back with us. I wish it did not have to be this way either. I have become quite fond of him, and I know you have also.”

 

Sefa walked to their bed and sat on the edge. She folded her hands in her lap and looked forlorn, “Sometimes it feels as though he is my own, and I am finally able to know what it might have been like to have a child.” Tears formed and rolled down her cheeks.

 

Folvar rushed to her side, sitting next to her on the bed, and scooped her into his arms, “My sweet Sefa, I want nothing more than to give you what your heart aches for, but it wasn’t meant to be. And though I could not give you a child, you have never once left my side.”

 

“And I mean not to, ever,” She wiped away her tears and put on a brave face. A forced smile spread across her lips as she took her husband’s hands. “I trust you, Folvar, and if this is your decision, then so be it. I know you will only do what is best for Legolas.”

 

Folvar kissed Sefa and held her while they discussed plans to take Legolas to Rohan. They finally decided it was best if Folvar, Kular and Hafdan made the long journey, and the sooner they could leave, the better. Folvar would tell Kular and Hafdan in the morning, and they would arrange a time to leave. Once everything was established, they would tell Legolas.

 

**Special thanks to my beta Mindirith**