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Title: Babe in the Woods Author: sheraiah Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to the Tolkien Estate. The plot and the original characters are the property of the author. Rating: PG Warnings: Gen, some disturbing themes Summary: Legolas and Gimli make a surprising discovery while traveling together.
~
“What is it now, you overgrown excuse for a twig?” the dwarf rumbled. “You can’t be conversing with every tree we pass, elf, or we’ll never make the inn before nightfall.” His tall companion shot him a fond glance.
“I would prefer sleeping under the stars to a smoky taproom. You merely wish to sample the local brew.” He paused, tilting his head and frowning slightly. He held up a hand, forestalling another barb from Gimli. Using gestures, he indicated for the dwarf to stay where he was. Silently, the elf began to move off in the direction the trees indicated.
The dwarf spent a few anxious moments waiting for Legolas to return, checking and re-checking his axes and trying not to make any noise. His friend’s shout brought him running, but he was unprepared for the sight that met his eyes.
Legolas was kneeling by a small stream, an expression on mingled bewilderment and concern on his fair face. On the ground in front of the elf lay a tiny infant, no more than a day old. The baby had been cleaned and was dressed and swaddled in a plain shawl.
“Any sign of its mother?” Gimli asked, leaning over Legolas’ shoulder to get a closer look at the child.
“Only a trail leading off that way, and hours old at that,” the elf replied, reaching out to lightly stroke the baby’s face with a fingertip. The child stirred at the touch and turned its head, trying to latch onto the stroking digit. Legolas pulled his hand back and looked up at Gimli, his surprise evident.
“He’s hungry, most likely,” the dwarf said, a slight grin forming on his face. “Mahal, Legolas, have you never seen a babe before?”
“Not this closely, and not so small,” the archer said, his attention shifting back to the baby who was now wide awake and beginning to fret.
“Well, then you’d best move aside and let me handle things. Here, hold this,” he said, handing his axe to the bemused elf. Stepping forward, he expertly lifted the baby, cradling it in the crook of his arm. “We’ll need to cut up my spare shirt.”
“Why?”
“Baby clouts, Legolas, baby clouts. From the feel of things, this little one needs changing.” He resisted the urge to laugh at his friend’s expression. He might need another set of hands before the day was out.
~
“Here, is this the correct size?” Legolas asked, handing a square of cloth, cut from the dwarf’s spare shirt, to his friend.
“Aye, good job, lad. Now, let’s see what you’ve got here, little one,” Gimli rumbled, unwrapping the child deftly and unfastening the child’s nappy. “Well, hello there young lass! You’ve made a great mess haven’t you?” He glanced at the elf, unable to resist chuckling at the expression on Legolas’ face.
“Forgive me, but I find it shocking that something so small could produce something so vile,” the elf said, his nose wrinkling is disgust.
“All the more reason to appreciate our parents, don’t you think?” the dwarf asked cheerfully, making short work of the soiled clout. “We’ll have to wash this out and hang it to dry.” He fastened the clean cloth around the baby’s bottom and wrapped her back up in Legolas’ spare shirt. “Of course, we still have the problem of feeding her.” He glanced back at Legolas, surprised to see a look of admiration on the elf’s face.
“How do you know how to do all this?”
“I may not have siblings, Legolas, but I’ve cousins aplenty. I’ve had a lot of experience with babies of my kind and from what I can tell, humans aren’t much different from dwarves at this stage.” He stood up and turned to the elf. “Here, hold her for a minute while I wash her clout.” He rolled his eyes at his friend’s reaction. “Legolas, she doesn’t bite and you won’t break her! Here, just put your hand under her head and neck like this. She can’t support her head yet, so you have to do it for her. Now, just settle her against your chest like so. If she can hear your heartbeat, it may soothe her.” He grinned at the expression of wonder on the elf’s face.
“She is so small, Gimli! Look at her hands, have you ever seen anything so little?” He looked back down at the child, who was moving her open mouth back and forth against his chest. “She is trying to feed.”
“Aye, we’ll have to figure something out about that, too. I’ll be right back, lad.”
“Actually,” Legolas said, a thoughtful look on his face, “I believe I might have a temporary solution. I will see about it as soon as you return.” Gimli nodded and walked a bit downstream to wash out the clout.
~
Gimli gently bounced the baby girl on his shoulder, trying in vain to soothe her. He hoped fervently that Legolas’ idea would work, because her howls were now reaching a volume that would draw any predator or, Mahal forbid, orc within miles. Not to mention the fact that Legolas had left his weapons behind when he had set out.
“If I am armed, Gimli, she will certainly not agree to my request. She will think I am hunting and I will not even get the chance to ask. Worry not, the trees will warn me in ample time to flee if there is trouble,” the elf had assured him with a grin. He had refused to elaborate and Gimli hadn’t pressed the issue due to the increasingly fussy infant.
Suddenly, the elf dropped out of the branches to land right in front of him. Gimli managed to stifle the urges both to startle violently and to throttle his grinning friend, especially when Legolas waved his water skin in front of his nose.
“Well?” was all he said.
“The doe agreed. Now, our problem becomes getting the milk into the baby. I have an idea for that as well.” He grabbed his small pack and rummaged about in it until he drew forth a clean cloth. Removing the stopper of the water skin, he soaked one corner of the cloth with the milk. While he did that, Gimli shifted the child back into the crook of his arm. Legolas dabbed the milk-soaked cloth to the baby’s lips. The child needed no further encouragement and proceeded to suck the milk from the cloth. The elf grinned at his friend again. “I thought that what works for a foal might work for a little human filly as well.”
“Well, it’s a good idea.” The dwarf was amused to see Legolas preen a bit under his approval. “Once we get her filled up and changed again, let’s set out for the inn. If she doesn’t belong there, perhaps we can ask the local midwife to help find a place for her.”
“Her mother must be frantic by now,” the elf said softly, soaking the cloth again.
“Perhaps, and perhaps not, lad,” Gimli mused, gazing down at the little one. At his friend’s startled look he explained. “Legolas, she was likely left there intentionally.”
“What?! Why would anyone leave a child like that?” The archer’s face was a picture of outrage.
“Calm down, elf. You’ll frighten her.” Gimli eyed him until he subsided. “I’ve read of some groups of humans who will leave unwanted babes out to be disposed of by the elements or predators. It’s sometimes because the child is believed to be ill or sometimes because there are already too many mouths to feed.” He sighed deeply. “Or sometimes, it’s done because the father of the child has doubts that it’s his, or because it was conceived by rape or out of wedlock. The men of Dale and Laketown don’t do this, nor do the men of Gondor or Rohan so far as I know.”
“That is barbaric,” Legolas muttered, plainly sickened by the whole idea.
“I agree. No dwarf child is ever unwanted, regardless of the way they came to be, and particularly not a girl-child.” He gave the baby a brief caress on the cheek. “And I know there’s no such thing as an unplanned child among your kin. Humans are different, though.”
“Poor little thing,” the elf said softly, running his fingers lightly over the dark fuzz that crowned the baby’s head. “Gimli, what if no one wants her? What shall we do then?”
“Take her on to Minas Tirith with us, I suppose,” the dwarf mused. “Aragorn and Arwen might know of somewhere she’d be wanted and loved.” He gave the elf a lopsided grin. “Of course, we’ll have to lay in some supplies and we’ll probably at least have to hire the use of a horse.” Legolas returned the grin.
“I think that we can manage that between the two of us.”
TBC…..
Title: Babe in the Woods pt 2 Author: sheraiah Rating: PG Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to the Tolkien Estate. The plot and original characters are the property of the author. Warnings: Gen, some disturbing themes Summary: Legolas and Gimli make a surprising discovery in the woods during their travels.
~
“Urp.”
Legolas snickered, “Are you certain she is not a dwarf child?”
“Just for that, elf, I’m going to let you take care of her next changing,” the dwarf stated, noting with a great deal of satisfaction the look of dismay on his friend’s face as he shifted the child back into the crook of his arm from her upright position on his shoulder.
“You are evil to subject the poor child to that,” the elf said.
“We aren’t going to make it to the village before dark,” Gimli said, glancing up at the position of the sun on the horizon.
“No, it will be an hour or two past nightfall, if she does not need to feed again before then,” the elf agreed, alternating soaking a new cloth with freshly obtained milk with nibbling on a piece of hardtack.
“She shouldn’t, at least until we make it into the town.” Gimli frowned. “Legolas, I’ve been thinking…”
“Do not strain yourself, elvellon,” his friend quipped.
“Be serious for a moment, you addlepated tree hugger,” the dwarf retorted without heat. “I’m thinking we should head straight for the midwife and have her take a look at Little Bit, just to be certain she’s doing well.”
“I admit, it would ease my mind as well. The does’ gifts have been satisfying her hunger, but I cannot help but think that human milk would suit her much better.” He soaked the cloth again. “Here you are, sweetling,” he said to the baby, who ignored him in favor of the milk.
“’Sweetling’?”
“Quiet, dwarf.”
~
Gimli’s assumption proved wrong, and the baby had indeed had to be fed again before they reached the town.
“Just as well,” Gimli said with a shrug as he soaked the cloth and offered it to the child while Legolas cradled her. He also taught the elf to burp the baby, howling with laughter when she spit up down his back. The elf took it remarkably in stride, removing his jerkin and cleaning it as best he could before they resumed their journey.
By mutual agreement, Legolas carried the baby due to the fact that he could be up a tree and out of harm’s way before any foe could attack. Gimli rigged a sling out of Legolas’ cloak for her to rest in and she slumbered, nestled next to the elf’s chest.
~
They reached the town three hours past sunset and approached the closed gate warily. Gimli knocked firmly on the heavy gate and after a moment a narrow spy hole slid open.
“State yer names and business,” a gruff voice sounded from behind the door.
“Gimli Gloin’s son and Legolas of the Greenwood, just passing through and wanting to stay at the Inn of the Enchanted Oak,” the dwarf replied promptly. The door warden looked them over a bit before opening the gate.
“Didn’t figger ye’d be up to nonsense with a young ‘un in tow,” he said, indicating the sling and ushering them through the gate.
“Yes, as to that,” Gimli replied, moving over to make room for Legolas to pass through the gate, “does the town have a midwife? We’d like her to take a look at the wee one, just to make sure she’s weathered the journey well.”
“Auntie Tess’ place is down the main road and left at the first crossroad you come to. Fourth house down on the right, ye can’t miss it. She’ll still have the lanterns lit, for certain.” He gestured down the darkened street. “Inn’s not half full tonight, what with the harvest startin’. Ye picked a good time fer traveling. Good e’en to ye.”
“Good evening to you as well, Warden, and a pleasant watch. Thank you for your help,” Gimli replied, nodding politely to the man.
A short walk later found them at the midwife’s door. The lanterns were indeed still lit, as the door warden had said, so Gimli rapped on the door without hesitation.
The woman who answered the door was of middle years, certainly not what either traveler would have pictured as someone referred to as ‘Auntie’. She was tall for a female, and broadly built, but she had a pleasant face and the creases at the corners of her eyes spoke of good humor.
“So much for my quiet night,” she said with a grin. “What can I do for you, Master Dwarf?”
Gimli stepped aside, allowing Legolas to move into the light coming through the open door. The elf said not a word, but merely shifted the folds of the sling to reveal the sleeping infant. The woman’s eyes widened.
“I think perhaps you’d best come inside,” she said, stepping back and opening the door wide enough for them to pass through.
~
“This is Kesta’s child. I delivered her not a day and a half ago. Damn that uncle of hers!” The midwife slammed the cupboard door shut and heaved a great sigh. “Understand this, good sirs. That girl would no more have abandoned this child willingly than you would have left her to her fate. Restor, the uncle, did this, I’m certain of it.” She sat down at the table in her brightly lit kitchen and ran her hand through her graying hair. “We’d hoped that since the babe was a girl that he’d let her keep it. A daughter couldn’t inherit Kesta’s late husband’s land, so Restor still controls it, and will even if Kesta remarries. But we never thought he’d go so far as to leave the baby out in the woods to die.” Her hand curled into a fist again. “And he’ll get away with it, as well since no one around here is strong enough to stand up to him.” She met both their eyes for a moment.
“Best you continue on your way with her, friends. There’s none that will take her, knowing who she is, and odds are Restor will want her back just so he can be sure to finish what he started. He’s a bad one, through and through. He’ll likely blame it on poor Kesta, and say that her grief for her husband drove her to it.” She chewed her lower lip. “Don’t go to the Inn. You’re welcome to stay here. I’ll supply you with what she’ll need, and I’ve two horses in the stable. You’re welcome to borrow either, for as long as you need to get her to someplace where she’ll be safe. Best you leave at first light. I’ll try to let Kesta know that Brenna’s alive and in good hands.”
“But, if he controls the land because the babe is female, why dispose of her?” Legolas asked, cradling the baby protectively against his chest.
“Could be that he’s planning on marrying Kesta off and figures that it’d be easier if there wasn’t a child.” Tess scowled fiercely. “Could be that he doesn’t want another mouth to feed, not that he can’t afford it, mind you. I know he wanted Kesta’s father to marry her to someone he had chosen because it would benefit him and it caused a big rift between them when Regen allowed her to wed Tomil for love.” She sighed again, rising to refill their mugs with tea.
“Regen was killed in the War, along with my husband and half the able-bodied men of the town, and Tomil was killed in a skirmish with orcs four months ago. Restor approached me not a week after wanting me to give him a potion to rid Kesta of the baby. I told him it was too late, that anything I might give her would as likely kill her as the babe. He backed off, but I saw enough signs that he abused her trying to make her miscarry that I had a word with the headman. Didn’t do a bit of good. It was a miracle that she carried the child to term and another miracle that the child was born alive. I was surprised that they even sent for me, but I suppose his plans for Kesta made it necessary for her to survive the birth.”
“And the town would condone his murdering an innocent baby?” the elf asked, his outrage plain.
“Condone, no, but he’s got most of the town in his pocket and those he hasn’t bought are afraid of him. Even to the point of looking the other way when he commits an act the town outlawed almost five hundred years ago,” she growled, resting her elbow on the table and propping her chin in her hand.
“I sense a story here,” Gimli said, taking a scone from the plate in front of him and biting into it.
“Oh, and it’s a good one, too,” Tess said. “You see, the folk of this town use the woods for hunting and for firewood. As long as there’s been a town, there’s been an agreement between the townsfolk and the Elvenking about the use of the woods. The town sends a yearly payment of goods in return for a certain amount of hunting and gathering of deadfall.” She took a sip of her tea, well aware that they both hung on every word. “Anyway, the exposing of sickly or unwanted infants wasn’t that uncommon back then. It wasn’t spoken of, but everyone knew it went on. Unbeknownst to the townsfolk, the Elvenking’s patrols had been finding what was left of the poor babies and reporting back to him. He’s a sharp one, is the Elvenking, he figured out real quick what was going on, and he had a right fit over it. Rode into town himself, and his queen just having given birth, too, and told the whole town that if it didn’t stop, he was going to revoke their privileges to the woods. Well, that would have been the end of the town, so the council agreed to his demands and outlawed the practice. Anyone who’s dared to do it since has been thrown right out of the town.”
“Legolas, what do you think Lord Celeborn and King Thranduil would think to hear about little Brenna?” Gimli asked, a calculating look on his face. The elf’s eyes widened, and then he grinned nastily.
“I think the town would get another visit, and by two elven lords in foul temper instead of one,” the archer replied.
“Can you do it? Can you get word to them? Would they heed your word? That’s the only thing that would force the council to deal with Restor,” the midwife said, hope dawning in her eyes. Gimli and Legolas looked at each other, the elf nodding almost imperceptibly. Gimli grinned.
“Oh, I think they’ll listen, lass,” Gimli stated with a smug grin. “In the meantime, we’ll need to take a detour back to your home and introduce little Brenna to your father, Legolas.”
The elf choked on his tea.
TBC…………
Title: Babe in the Woods pt 3 ~ After feeding her guests until they could eat no more, Tess made another pot of tea and they moved from the table to the chairs in front of the hearth. Gimli settled himself in the cushioned chair on the left. Legolas chose to sit cross-legged on the rug by the dwarf’s feet, the baby resting in his lap. Tess filled everyone’s mug again, handing the elf and dwarf theirs before sitting down opposite Gimli.
Title: Babe in the Woods ch 4 Author: sheraiah Rating: PG
For full header, please see chapter 1.
~
The sun had passed its zenith and begun its descent when Legolas paused and cocked an ear towards the nearest tree. Gimli stopped as well, not exactly winded, but grateful for the respite. They had left the village well before sunrise, heading South towards Gondor but had backtracked along a stream for over a league and then headed North at a brisk pace equal almost to the pace Aragorn had set across the plains of Rohan, stopping only to feed and care for the baby.
“The trees say that Abrum and his family are just beyond the stream two leagues North,” Legolas said, automatically checking the baby who slumbered in her sling across his chest.
“The trees told you two leagues? Didn’t know trees knew what a league was,” Gimli commented, grinning at the elf, who rolled his eyes.
“The trees said beyond the stream. I happen to know it is two leagues, if we must be that precise, oh mighty digger of holes,” the archer retorted. Had he not been holding the child, the temptation to swat him with the flat of an axe might have proved too strong. As it was, Gimli contented himself with a glare and a snort.
“How long ‘til we reach them, do you think, you daft, long-legged, tree-hugging, point-ear?”
“Likely the better part of the afternoon at your pace, rock-hoarder. For Brenna and myself, not long at all!” With that, the elf leapt into the tree, his laughter trailing behind him as the dwarf turned the air around him blue with curses as he tried to keep up.
“Get down from there you reckless, flighty, damned….elf! You’ll drop her!”
~
“Abrum, Blacksmith!”
The clear voice rang out in through the clearing, startling the group of humans into a halt, the three adult males raising their weapons. “Who calls me?” the largest of the three called out in response.
“It is Legolas, and I would very much appreciate it if you lowered your weapons. I do not wish to resemble your wife’s pincushion if it is all the same to you,” the voice replied, humor clear in its tone.
“Show yourself first,” Abrum replied.
The elf stepped out from behind a large tree trunk directly ahead of the small group, startling them yet again. Abrum lowered his pike. “Master Legolas, that was a bit bolder than I’d have done, especially with a babe in my arms.”
“Nay, there was less danger than you think, Master Blacksmith. Your weapons would never have reached me, assuming that you could have located me to aim them in the first place,” the elf replied cheekily, grinning. “However, my small friend here very much wishes to make your wife’s acquaintance.” He bowed slightly to the blacksmith’s wife, who was staring at him with an expression of wonder on her face. “Mistress Mahri, this is Brenna. She is dry and clean, but I do think that she is wanting a meal as soon as possible.”
“Oh, yes of course! Here, let me take her,” Mahri said, recovering rather quickly and taking the baby. “Oh, there, you little lamb! Are you hungry, loveling? We’ll take care of that right now, we will.”
“There’ll be no more sense out of her today,” one of the young men next to Abrum said, chuckling. “I’m Raife, and this is Edrun. Abrum you know already and I’ll let him introduce his litter to you.”
“Legolas of the Greenwood, and it is a pleasure to meet you,” the elf replied, bowing with his hand over his heart in the manner of his people.
“Where is Gimli?” Abrum asked, his eyebrows rising when Legolas laughed.
“A league and a half behind and cursing both my name and those of my ancestors, I do not doubt! If you do not object, I will go now and scout ahead of us. Perhaps if I bring back dinner, I will not face the possibility of being hacked off at the knees when I return.” He grinned and leapt up into the trees again, disappearing before Abrum and his wife’s brothers could comment.
“What a strange creature he is,” Mahri commented, her gaze searching the branches above them. “Lovely, but strange.”
“That’s about the truth, sister-mine,” Edrun said, rubbing his chin. “Never seen an elf before, think they’re all like that?”
“I wouldn’t think so. Men aren’t all of a piece, so why should others be?” Abrum weighed in, leaning over to get a look at the baby. “Well, if she doesn’t look just like Tomil!”
“And now she’s going to be fed,” Mahri stated firmly, draping a shawl over her shoulder and reaching underneath to bare herself and settle the baby. ‘Yes, yes, you too, Mikel,” she said, shifting the shawl and settling her youngest on the other side when he protested the visitor’s usurping of his place.
“Best keep moving for now,” Raife said. “There’s a clearing ahead where we can stop for the night.”
~
Unlike his tall friend, they heard Gimli long before they saw him. He hailed them much in the same manner that Legolas had, but he also made a great deal of noise moving through the underbrush. After several long minutes the dwarf broke through the brush, grumbling and stomping.
“Where is that blasted elf? I’ll bring him down to size!” he blustered, scowling fiercely.
“Master Legolas is scouting ahead. He said something about bringing back something for dinner,” Mahri said, eyeing dwarf warily.
“He’d better,” Gimli snorted. Then his scowl cleared and he bowed to Mahri. “Gimli, son of Gloin at your service.”
“Mahri, Meder’s daughter at yours,” the woman replied, still wary. “My husband, Abrum you know. These are my brothers, Raife and Edrun.” The men bowed, each in turn. “And these are Alys, Renn, Brytta, Sidda, and Mikel.” The dwarf bowed again.
“At your service, as I said. Ah,” his face brightened as he caught sight of the baby, “there’s our Little Bit! How’s she faring, Mistress Mahri?”
“Just fine,” Mahri said, shifting the baby’s shawl so that he could see her face. She thawed visibly towards the dwarf as he moved to her side, fussing over the baby.
“Good,” he replied, allowing the baby’s small hand to curl around his pinky. “Uncle Gimli’s going to have to have a word with Uncle Legolas, yes he is. Going to have to take the flat of my axe to his backside, won’t I?” he crooned to the baby, before remembering his audience and stepping back, blushing and clearing his throat. Abrum and the other adults prudently hid their smiles.
~
A loud birdcall sounded overhead just as they made camp, startling all except Gimli.
“Oh, just get down here, you daft creature. You’re safe from my axe so long as you brought some meat with you!” He called out, not even bothering to look up. A second later, the carcass of a wild boar dropped at his feet, followed by the elf. “Well, that almost makes up for you leaving me to struggle through this forest alone, but you still owe me several pitchers of ale at the Halfling’s Raft in Dale.”
“Ugh, not that horse-water! The Stone Troll has better, and they have wine there as well. I am not going to simply sit and watch you drink with nothing for myself,” Legolas replied with an affectionate grin for his friend. “Come help me dress this boar out, elvellon.”
“It’ll cook faster if we chop it up and wrap pieces of it in leaves to cook among the coals,” Gimli opined, following the elf.
“Yes, I agree. And I also found some roots, berries, and greens to supplement the meat,” the elf said as they moved beyond the tree line, leaving the humans staring in their wake.
A bit later, Gimli returned and busied himself burying leaf-wrapped packages in the coals. He also handed Legolas’ carry-sack, half filled with berries to Mahri with a sheepish look. “Last time I tried to fix something with berries, Legolas laughed for a week. He wouldn’t dare laugh at a female, his father’d have his head.”
“Where is Legolas?” Mahri asked, emptying the sack into a wooden bowl she had taken from the family’s cart.
“He’s disposing of the parts of the boar we aren’t using. Said he saw signs of a wolf’s den not too far off on the other side of the stream. He’s going to give the rest of the carcass to the wolves so they won’t need to hunt for their little ones for a day or so. Then, if I know the elf, he’ll have a bit of a wash in the stream before he rejoins us.” Gimli chuckled. “There could be snow on the ground, and he’d still have a bath, that one.”
As Gimli watched, Mahri ground the berries into a paste, adding meal and honey from her stores. Using a pan fetched from the cart by her oldest, she began cooking little cakes made from the berry and meal paste in a bit of lard. As soon as the first one was done, Mahri broke it into pieces, distributing them to her children and Gimli.
“I don’t think he’ll laugh about these, Mistress Mahri.” Gimli nodded in satisfaction. “We might well have to fight him for them.”
“Might well have to fight me for what, Master Stone-cleaver?” Legolas asked, dropping down next to the dwarf, his freshly braided hair still damp from his bath.
“Goodness, don’t you ever just walk!” Mahri exclaimed.
“Traveling through the trees is faster and safer,” the elf replied, leaning over to examine the cakes. “Those smell wonderful, Mistress Mahri.” She broke off a piece of one for him, watching as an expression of delight crept over his face as he tasted it. “They taste better than they smell, if that is possible.” He eyed Gimli. “You may well have to fight me for them, elvellon.”
“Don’t want blood on the wagon,” Gimli quipped back, using a stick to turn the packets of meat and roots in the coals. Legolas just grinned at him.
~
The next two days were spent traveling at as swift a pace as possible with both a wagon and small children in tow. A great deal of Legolas’ time was spent in scouting both ahead and behind. Gimli took on the task of hiding their passing as much as he could. Abrum was concerned that Restor would have them followed out of pure spite, the family having left town rather than dance to his tune. Likewise, Legolas and Gimli knew that if he got wind of Brenna’s survival, he would certainly send his lackeys to remedy the situation.
~
The group was just beginning to set up camp when Legolas dropped from a tree at the edge of the clearing they had stopped in, his expression grim.
“It would be wiser to continue on, even as weary as the children are, my friends,” he said, walking to the wagon and adding arrows to his quiver from the extras he had made over the previous two nights.
“How many?” Gimli asked, adjusting his throwing axes in their straps and checking the edge on his walking axe.
“I saw ten, but the trees whisper of four more out scouting,” the elf replied. “I think it best that you and I confront them away from the others, elvellon.”
“Aye, makes sense to me.” He nodded and turned to Abrum. “If we do it that way, you can put some distance between any fighting and the children and you, Raife, and Edrun are here in case any of them get past Legolas and me.” His tone made it plain that neither he nor the elf intended to allow that to happen.
“I have also sent for reinforcements, Gimli,” Legolas said softly, his hand resting lightly on the trunk of an old and stately beech tree. “Adar was headed for East Lorien when I left, so he will likely be close enough to intercept us, hopefully before we have to force a confrontation.”
“Hmpf, never thought I’d be glad to see your sire, lad.” He glowered at the elf. “And I’ll string you up by those pointed ears of yours if you tell him I said that.”
“It shall never pass my lips. Far be it for me to give the two of you yet another subject to scowl at each other about.” His eyes scanned the trees, attention focused on the faint rustle of the leaves. “Come, we must find a place in which to do this, mellon nin. Time grows short, and help is farther away than I would like.” He locked eyes with Abrum, “Make as much haste as you are able. Do not stop this night unless the warriors of the Woodland Realm approach you and tell you it is safe to do so.”
With that, he turned and sprinted into the tree line, Gimli following closely behind.
~
TBC….
Title: Babe in the Woods pt 5 Author: sheraiah Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Descriptions of battle and wounds in this chapter. For full header, see chapter 1. A/N: Most everyone who has read one or more of my fanfics knows that I do mix book-verse and movie-verse. That being said, I opt to go with the book version of the Battle of Helm’s Deep in that there was only one elf present for that battle, and his name was Legolas. Also, Book!Gimli did not wear a helm. ‘Nuff said, on with the story!
~
Mahri clutched the side of the cart as it bounced over yet another root, stifling her gasp. It was a much rougher ride traveling in the dark, and the canopy of branches overhead did not permit much moonlight to filter to ground level. Abrum and Raife walked in front of the cart, guiding the animals, while Edrun walked behind as rear guard. It had been well over an hour since they had heard the blood-curdling war cry they assumed had come from Legolas and the woods had been quiet since. Too quiet, Edrun had commented nervously as he moved to place himself between his sister and her children and possible danger. She put on a brave face for her children, assuring them softly that all was well. Oh, how she hoped that would turn out to be true!
~
Legolas rolled quickly out of the way of the blade that slashed down at his head and continued the roll until he gained his feet again. He lashed out with a foot, knocking the enemy on his right down and followed his kick with a slash of his knife, cutting the man’s throat to the bone. His attacker on his left attempted to take advantage and slice through the elf’s left arm, but Legolas blocked him deftly, turning the blade and taking his arm off instead. Behind him, he could hear Gimli taunting the men he was fighting intermingled with the sound of axes meeting flesh.
His original count of fourteen against two would have been challenge enough, he and Gimli having faced worse odds in the past, but another group of men had joined the first and they were now battling over twenty men. Orcs were one thing, cruel and fast, but stupid. These men were trained mercenaries, not as fast or as skilled as the elf and the dwarf were, but cagey fighters and their numbers were giving them the advantage. Legolas had already taken a hard blow to the head, which had also splintered his bow, and blood was dripping into his eyes, blurring his vision. The one who had landed the blow had received Gimli’s axe in the skull for his audacity, but had managed to drive a knife into the dwarf’s thigh as the blow fell. There were eight men left apiece to the elf and dwarf, all attacking at once, keeping the two on the defensive, trying to wear them down with small wounds. Legolas could feel blood dripping from a dozen minor hurts.
Suddenly, a heavy weight lurched against his back, knocking him onto his face into the leaf litter of the forest floor. Two feet pinned his wrists to the ground painfully, and his knives were wrenched out of his grasp before two hard kicks landed to his torso, one to each side of his ribcage. He gasped, trying to curl inward and down to reach the knives stuck in his boots, but a hand tangled in his hair and jerked him up onto his knees.
“I wouldn’t, point-ear,” a gravelly voice cautioned, “Or you can go slow, instead of quick like your pet dwarf.” A roaring filled Legolas’ ears and the world seemed to contract to a pinpoint. They had killed Gimli. He no longer felt the wounds; he felt nothing except rage and grief hovering at the edge of the rage, no longer cared about anything except making certain these men died.
His lips drew back into a snarl and he grabbed the hand holding the sword, tightening his grip enough to crush bone. He shrieked, the war cry of the elves of the Woodland Realm, and snatched free of the hand that held his hair. Legolas slammed his body into that of the man who had spoken, driving the man’s own sword into his entrails and jerking upward, disemboweling him in the blink of an eye. Before the body hit the ground, Legolas had turned and decapitated the two closest to him with the sword he had pulled from the dying man’s crushed fingers. He turned again, his eyes locking onto the next three. Before he could raise the weapon to strike them, arrows appeared in their throats and they toppled. Legolas swayed, almost falling, when he heard a faint sound behind him. He whirled, bringing the sword up as he turned.
~
Haldir stepped back quickly out of the sword’s reach. “Careful!” he shouted to his fellow wardens, “he is not truly seeing us.” He turned his full attention back onto the battered elf before him. “Legolas, hear me! It is over now. Put your sword down and let us see to your wounds.” He took a slow step closer. “Easy, be at ease now, Legolas. Be at ease, my friend. It is over now.” He stopped as the sword shifted to point at his throat.
“Haldir!” Rumil hissed. “He is not hearing you. Go no closer, brother!”
“Orophin,” the Marchwarden called to his youngest brother, “Please tell me that the dwarf is still breathing.” “The dwarf is still breathing,” came the reply. “Good thing naugrim have such thick skulls.”
“Good,” Haldir grunted, dodging a feint. “Legolas, you must go to Gimli! He is injured and he needs your help.” The younger elf wavered, giving Haldir the opening he needed. Swiftly, he darted forward, knocking the sword from Legolas’ hand and wrapping both arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. Rumil darted in from behind Legolas, sandwiching the archer’s slighter form between his body and his brother’s and wrapping his arms around to reinforce Haldir’s hold. The trapped elf fought desperately to break free, but the two brothers held on resolutely until he stilled, Haldir speaking softly to him the whole while. When his body sagged in their grip, Rumil stepped back, allowing Haldir to lift the now quiet Legolas and move him to a place better suited for caring for his wounds.
~
“How is he, brother?”
“His wounds are minor, there are simply many of them,” Haldir replied, wrapping a bandage around Legolas’ freshly cleaned and stitched forearm. “How is Gimli?”
“Ithildur says he will recover. The fools tried to bash his skull in. Evidently, no one ever told them that does not work well on dwarves.” Rumil picked up a clean cloth and began washing the dirt out of a slash on Legolas’ right shoulder.
“Here, I have another needle already threaded. That one wants stitching as well.”
“Is it the last of them?” Rumil asked, beginning to close the wound he had washed.
“Yes, his head was the worst of it. I will wash the blood off his face while you finish that.”
Orophin approached, carrying a fresh skin of water. “Ithildur says you owe him a skin of wine for having to stitch up the dwarf.”
“Ithildur can kiss my arse. He is a healer, and that dwarf carries the Lady Galadriel’s favor,” Haldir replied shortly, wiping drying blood and grime off his friend’s face. “It is nothing more than his duty to tend him and I do not wish to hear another word from him about it.”
“Aye, I told him as much,” Orophin said, squatting next to the elder of his brothers. “Except for the part about kissing your arse. You may tell him that yourself. Has Legolas awakened yet?”
“Not yet. Soon, I believe. He has been stirring a bit, though that may have been because his wounds pain him. Rumil, have the others clear the bodies away. I wish to stay with Legolas until he wakes. The state he was in when we arrived concerns me greatly.”
“Us as well, brother,” Rumil said, laying a hand on Haldir’s shoulder before rising. “Orophin and I will see that everything is taken care of. Call out to us if you need us.”
~
“Halt! What business have you in these woods?”
Abrum stopped in his tracks, hauling back on the harness of the draft animal he was leading as Raife did the same for the other. Edrun cursed softly, having walked into the back of the cart.
“We’re traveling to Dale and mean no harm to anyone here,” Abrum replied nervously.
“I would find that difficult to believe were you not traveling with little ones,” said a second voice, this one a smooth baritone. “Why do you travel at night and in haste?”
“We’re being followed by some as mean us no good,” Raife stated, lifting his chin stubbornly. “Surely you don’t object to us protecting my sister and the children?”
“We do not object to the protection of females or children, merely to trespassers who do not ask our permission to travel in our kingdom,” the silky baritone replied. Abrum could just make out the tall silhouette of the speaker ahead of him as well as several other tall forms armed with bows.
“And who’re you to be objecting?” Raife countered, patently irritated at being confronted. Around them, Abrum could hear the sound of bows being drawn as the tension grew thick enough to cut with a blade.
“I, mortal, rule this realm,” the baritone retorted, his tone as cold as ice, “And I expect an explanation for your presence here, not insolence.” With that, he stepped into a shaft of moonlight coming through a break in the canopy. His hair was light, a crown of leaves and flowers gracing his brow, but there was nothing soft in his expression. Abrum’s eyes widened.
“Truly, your majesty, we meant no harm! Until a few hours ago we were guided by one of your folk.” Abrum swallowed convulsively as the pale eyes of the Woodland king seemed to bore straight into his soul. “Legolas said we weren’t to stop unless one of the Woodland Realm told us it was safe to.”
“Legolas,” the king repeated, his expression sharpening further. “Mortal, I wish to know exactly where Legolas is now. Where is my son?”
~
TBC
Title: Babe in the Woods chapter 6 Author: sheraiah Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Angry Elvenking, shocked humans, aftermath of battle. For full header and disclaimer see chapter 1.
A/N: I feel the need to explain something here. I forget sometimes that many of the wonderful, and I mean that sincerely, folks that read my fics are movie fans rather than book fans. I happen to be a fan of both the books and the movies for vastly different reasons. That being said, there are questions that the movie folks have raised that need answering, for example: what are Haldir and his brothers doing in Mirkwood? Well, for one thing, it’s no longer Mirkwood. J At the ending of the Ring War, Thranduil’s people and Galadriel and Celeborn’s people joined forces to sack and destroy Sauron’s stronghold in Mirkwood, Dol Goldur. Once that was accomplished, Thranduil and Celeborn met and decided to divide Mirkwood into three parts, the Northern area would continue to be Thranduil’s kingdom now called Eryn Lasgalen, the middle part would be controlled by the Beorn’s descendants and the Woodmen, and the Southern part would be held by Celeborn and his people and was to be known as East Lorien. Celeborn did not sail with Galadriel, Elrond, Bilbo, Gandalf, Frodo, and Shadowfax. He stayed in East Lorien for a time, and then joined his grandsons, Elladan and Elrohir, in Rivendell. For the purposes of this story the Beornings are being ignored, mainly because the author had a brain-fart and forgot about them temporarily. So sorry, Beorn! Also, there have been requests to have Legolas and Gimli name the baby. She has a name, given to her by her mother and it’s mentioned in chapter 3, I believe. The baby’s name is Brenna. (Celtic for Little Raven, if my memory serves) However, both of them do have pet names for the baby: Gimli calling her Little Bit and Legolas calling her Sweetling.
~ Abrum took a bite of the flavorful bread he had been given by the elven warrior who tended the fire and chewed slowly, his mind racing. He was still reeling from the revelation that their guide was the son of the Elvenking, not to mention the surprise of the kindness offered to them by the Elvenking and his warriors.
Once Abrum had answered the king’s questions, the king had ordered three of his warriors to track Legolas and Gimli and bring them back. The remainder of his warriors, he instructed to set up camp. In very little time, Abrum and his family were seated by a fire with food in their hands. The elves behaved with reserve towards the adults, but the children were another matter. The children were each seated with an elven warrior who seemed to delight in feeding and spoiling them, and who genuinely seemed to enjoy their company. Abrum had always heard that elves loved children, and had observed that it was true of Legolas as the elf had answered endless questions and played games with Abrum’s children, but he now had proof before his eyes that the tale was fact and he was grateful for it. His children had been terrified by the flight through the woods and they could use all the coddling they could get. His eyes turned to the king.
King Thranduil paced back and forth at the edge of the circle cast by the firelight; his fair face, so like to his son’s, was set in a frown. As kind as he had been to them, once he realized why they were in the forest to begin with, it was evident that his worry for his son shadowed everything else. Abrum stood and made his way over to the pacing elf, his manner diffident.
“Your majesty, you’ve been more than kind to us, truly, and none of us’d take it wrong if you went to go look for your son.” The sea-gray eyes turned to bore into him and Abrum found another tale he had heard to be truth: it was very difficult for a mortal to meet an elf’s gaze for long.
“Blacksmith, while I appreciate the thought behind your words, I do not need your leave to do anything.”
“Of course not,” Abrum said hurriedly, “Especially not in your own land, but I wanted you to know we wouldn’t take it as a lack of manners, that’s all I meant.” He was surprised to see one corner of the king’s mouth curl up wryly.
“Do you think I do this for courtesy?”
“No, I think you don’t want to see children sent off hungry and tired, your majesty.” Abrum set his shoulders and looked directly into the king’s face.
“Nor your wife,” Thranduil agreed, his face sobering. “One can tell a great deal about the character of most beings by how they treat their young ones and females, blacksmith. The fact that your children and your wife are well fed, unbruised, and happy is reason enough for me to offer you assistance. I would offer it to them in any case.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” Abrum studied him for a moment. “And your son’s kindness to folks he doesn’t even know makes me think I can trust you, too.” The wry smile reappeared.
“Legolas may have the look of me, Abrum Blacksmith, but it is his mother from whom he inherited his spirit.” The king’s eyes turned to him again. “I am not going after my son because I have sent my best trackers after him and they will find him much faster without me in their way. Legolas is alive, I would know immediately if he were not. What I do not know is why he was returning. He and Master Gimli had planned to return to Gondor.” Abrum shifted.
“Well, I can tell you some of it,” the blacksmith said. “It has to do with Brenna.”
“Your littlest one?”
“The littlest one, yes, but not mine and Mahri’s,” he clarified. “Brenna is the daughter of a friend of ours. Tomil was killed a few months ago in a fight with orcs and bad men. Her mother had to go live with her uncle, who wanted the baby gone so he could marry Kesta off again for his own gain. As soon as the baby was born, he took her out into the woods and left her to die. Legolas and Gimli found her.”
“That sounds unpleasantly familiar. Where did this happen?” Thranduil’s brows had drawn together and Abrum swallowed convulsively. He truly did not want to ever be on the receiving end of this elf’s anger. The king was as intimidating as his son was cheerful and friendly; truly not one to be crossed.
“Exactly where you’re thinking, your majesty. The town’s had a law against it since the last time you were there and they’ve banished anyone who’s tried it until now.”
“I take it from your words that this man is not being punished. Why?” the scowl had deepened and Abrum involuntarily shuddered.
“Because he owns most of the town, and the law in it. The ones he doesn’t own are terrified of him. He sent the brigands after us that Legolas and Gimli went to fight,” Abrum said, matter of factly. Thranduil’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Did he? That needs to be remedied, do you not agree?”
~
Haldir felt Legolas stir next to him and grabbed the water skin by his leg. Gently lifting the younger elf into a sitting position, he held the skin’s opening to Legolas’ lips, carefully allowing only a small trickle of water to run into his mouth. Legolas swallowed, then reached both hands up to grasp the skin, trying to drink greedily.
“Careful, my friend! Only a little at first, and then you may have more.” Haldir allowed a little more water to flow into Legolas’ mouth before pulling the skin away. The archer’s eyes fluttered open and he stared at the Marchwarden, confused.
“Haldir?” he croaked. “What are you…?” Memory returned and his face twisted in grief. “Gimli.”
“Is very much alive, thanks to the idiot humans’ ignorance of dwarves,” the Marchwarden replied, giving his friend a slight smile. “He will have a vicious headache, but he will be fine.” He gazed searchingly at the younger elf. “I am much more concerned with you at the moment. How are you feeling?”
“Like orc dung warmed over and served on toast,” Legolas replied, grimacing as he tried to sit up.
“Lovely thought,” Haldir commented, making a face. “Fortunately, you do not smell as such. You do, however, need to go wash the rest of the blood off.”
“Where is Gimli?”
“He is with the healer and I will take you to see him as soon as we clean you up a bit.”
~
The children were abed, their stomachs full and their fears soothed, when one of the three scouts returned. He dropped to one knee before Thranduil and gave his news in rapid-fire elvish. The Elvenking’s expression was blank as he thanked and dismissed the scout. He stood, gazing off into the darkness for a moment before turning to his human guests.
“They have found Legolas and Master Gimli. Both are alive but injured and are in the care of my cousin’s wardens. The other two scouts will guide the wardens here when my son and his friend are able to make the journey.” Thranduil’s face was expressionless, and Mahri and Abrum exchanged a concerned look.
“How badly are they hurt, your majesty?” Abrum asked.
“Their injuries are not life-threatening, or the scout would have borne a message for me to accompany him back with all haste,” the Elvenking replied. He gracefully took a seat by the fire, staring moodily into the flames. Across the fire from him, Mahri removed the now-sated baby from under the shawl she had used to preserve her modesty while nursing. With the ease of much practice, she had the child changed and swaddled in short order. She gazed at her husband for a moment, and then at the king. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she addressed him.
“Your majesty, would you like to hold the baby for awhile?” she asked. He looked up from the flames, startled.
“It has been many years since I held a child that small,” he said softly. “Not since Legolas was that size.”
“It’s not something you forget,” Mahri replied with a smile, thinking that the similarities between the king and his son might go deeper than appearance in some ways.
“Very well,” he said, holding out his hands to receive the child. Mahri watched as he settled the baby in the crook of his arm in the manner of an experienced parent. The baby was awake and looking up at Thranduil with wide eyes. Unexpectedly, he chuckled.
“This one will break her share of hearts when she is grown,” he said, grinning his wry grin.
“Aye, I think she will at that, thanks to your son and Gimli,” Mahri said, smiling.
“That is the part that I do not understand,” he said, carefully controlling his voice and expression so as not to upset the baby. “I do not understand how anyone could abandon a child to the elements and animals.”
“We could never do it ourselves,” Abrum replied, “but I can see how some would think they had no other choice, although there are kinder ways to go about it.” Thranduil looked up, shock and the beginnings of anger evident in his expression. Abrum held up both hands in a placating gesture. “Too many mouths to feed already, or a child made by rape for instance.” “Yes,” Mahri opined, “but if it’s to be done at all it needs to be done before the child’s born. There are herbs that can be taken to cause a woman to lose a child early, before it even shows, and before the child is fully formed.” She met the king’s eyes. “I’ve never done it, but I know those who have.”
“It is different for us,” the king said, patently sickened. “No elven child is unplanned or unwanted, and we have few in any case. Only the elves in my realm and a few in East Lorien have little ones in these days. Legolas had only two playmates and they were both older by several years.” His expression saddened further. “And they were both killed in battle before either of you were born, before your parents were born.” He looked back down at the baby, his expression softening as she wrapped her hand around his finger. He looked up again, his mood shifting with characteristic elven swiftness. “Mistress Mahri, you should take this opportunity to eat. You had only a few bites before you had to feed your youngest and Brenna.”
“I didn’t think you’d noticed that,” she replied, amused, as she picked up a piece of bread and a thin slab of cheese.
“My wife would get so wrapped up in Legolas that she often forgot to feed herself,” he said, his grin making a welcome re-appearance. “I reminded her often, and Legolas ended up on my lap in many council meetings while she ate or rested.”
“He’s a good ‘un, your son,” Abrum said, putting another log on the fire and handing his wife a piece of meat that had been cooked on a skewer over the fire.
“He is indeed,” the king agreed, lightly stroking a finger down the baby’s cheek. Her eyelids had grown heavy and he smiled again as he watched her surrender to her drowsiness. “Would that we had been able to have more; Legolas would have made a wonderful elder brother.”
“He’ll make a good father one day,” Mahri said, saddened at the echo of grief she read in the king’s face.
“Perhaps, if he wishes to,” the king replied. “My only wish has ever been for his happiness, whatever that entails. He is as happy as he can be for now, and I am grateful for it.” Mahri brushed the crumbs of her meal off her skirt and he handed the baby back to her with a slight smile before rising and disappearing into the shadows.
~
Legolas sat still, reluctantly allowing Haldir to wash the blood and grime from his upper body. His injuries had made moving painful and slow, and while he made a point of telling his friend how appreciative he was of his assistance, his fiercely independent nature made enduring it difficult. Haldir shook his head ruefully; his friend was notorious for being a trying patient and he could now report that he was even more so when the dwarf was injured.
“Patience, Legolas. He is going nowhere soon, I assure you, and he is in no danger.”
“Do not press your luck, Marchwarden,” the prince groused, scowling even deeper. “I do not find any of this to be amusing.”
“Calm yourself, elfling,” Haldir replied evenly. “I will tolerate no temper tantrums from you this day.” Legolas jerked away from him, temper truly flaring, but Haldir merely grabbed a fistful of the hair on the back of his head, carefully avoiding pulling the hair close to his head wound, and pushed the wet cloth into his face. “I said to calm yourself, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen. You do yourself and Gimli no good by behaving like a child.”
Legolas’ spluttered comment was both creative and foul, suggesting that Haldir do something he was fairly certain was anatomically impossible, even for an elf. Haldir sighed, setting the cloth aside and shifting to kneel in front of the younger elf, his experience in commanding other warriors and in dealing with this particular one making it plain to his eyes what lay behind the fit of temper.
“Legolas, look at me,” he said, grasping the other’s chin and forcing him, albeit gently, to meet his eyes. “Gimli will be fine in a few days. Ithildur is a good healer. Both my brothers have looked in on Gimli for you, and they say the same. The sooner we get you taken care of, the sooner you will see this for yourself. Agreed?” The archer closed his eyes and sighed gustily.
“Yes, Haldir. I apologize, I should not take this out on you.” He looked up, trying to brush his hair, which Haldir had unbraided, out of his eyes.
“It is not often anymore that I see in you the child I once knew,” Haldir commented with deliberate casualness, picking up the cloth again and re-wetting it. “But, even though you are long grown, I would have you remember that you can still count on me to listen when you are troubled.”
“I made a grave error, Haldir,” Legolas said, his voice barely above a whisper, “and Gimli nearly died because of it. I did not think to ask the trees if there was more than one group of ruffians out searching. We were not prepared for two groups, and did not plan for it.”
“How could you have known to ask? You are far from perfect, my friend, and I am certain that Gimli would very quickly remind you of that fact,” Haldir pointed out, lips twitching in suppressed amusement. Legolas chuckled weakly.
“He certainly would.” The younger elf’s face twisted into a more than passable imitation of a dwarven frown. “‘Daft point-ear! What’d ya think? That you’re omniscient? The day you become one of the Valar is the day I sprout pointed ears and swing from trees!’”
“You are too good at that,” Haldir said, laughing. “I suppose he has said that to you in the past?”
“More than once, actually,” Legolas admitted ruefully. “He has a way of putting things into shockingly clear perspective.”
“As much as I am loath to admit it, he makes a great deal of sense. Though, I pray you, do not tell him I said that.”
“I will not if you will not,” the younger elf said solemnly.
~
TBC
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