First Meetings

Author's Note:  This story does make small references to my other story "The Beginning" which is posted on Fanfiction.Net (http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1678435) but you should be able to read this one by itself.

Disclaimer:  Tolkien's work, not mine

“Speech”

// Thought//

Chapter 1

Streams of light filtered through the trees in the former realm of Greenwood the Great, illuminating the forest floor and surrounding areas.  It was a typical day in the forest of Mirkwood, and Elves everywhere were going about their daily business in the courtyard of the palace.  Such was the sight that greeted Legolas Thrandulion as he led his patrol back home.  The party had been on an extended scouting mission in southern Mirkwood, investigating the activities around Dol Guldur, and after six months they were finally returning home.

Legolas sighed with relief as the palace finally came into view.  He was bruised, battered and bloody from his latest skirmish with the orcs, and all he really wanted was a nice bath and a soft bed. He knew, however, that that would not be possible.  As a Captain and Prince, it was his duty to immediately report to the King what they had observed.  He sighed again, dismounted, and grudgingly made his way to the throne room.

As he drew near the throne room, one of the guards announced his presence.  “Your majesty, Prince Legolas has returned and requests an audience.”

King Thranduil nodded, bidding his son enter.

“Greetings adar, I have much to report about my findings.”  Legolas took a deep breath and began to tell his father everything they had observed.  “...Dol Guldur stirs. Activity has increased significantly; there are orcs and wargs everywhere, including close to the palace—in fact, we ran into a troop not far from here.  They are becoming very daring and aggressive. I fear an attack on the palace may be imminent.”

“That is grave news indeed.  Something must be done or we may be overcome.  What do you propose we do about this rising threat?” Thranduil asked, alarmed by these tidings.

“Increase the number of guards on duty and station patrols around the villages, especially in the more inhabited regions.  We cannot allow those ruthless creatures to kill the innocent women and children of our land,” Legolas replied.

Thranduil sat, contemplating all that he had heard.  “You are correct, but I fear we may have to go beyond that.  The palace is vulnerable.  As much as we like to think we are safe here, we are not as safe as we could be.  Mayhap I should order the reconstruction of the caves; they offer much more protection than we have above ground.”

Legolas shuddered at the thought of having to go into those caves again.  He had not set foot in them for over 2,000 years—not since he had been caught in a cave-in as a child.  He swallowed and replied, “It is your choice ada.”

Thranduil paused for a moment before answering.  “I’ll need to contemplate it before making a decision.  Thank you Legolas, now go see the healer, you look terrible.”

Legolas smiled.  “As you wish, ada.”  He turned to leave, the only thing on his mind being a bath.  He had gotten over his fear of healers that he had developed as a child after seeing his naneth being brought to them but still dying because of her wounds.  He had been convinced they had killed her and were going to kill him.  As he got older he finally being able to see the logic in what his father had been saying about how healers did not kill their patients but were sometimes just unable to save them, but even though he was no longer afraid, it didn’t mean that he liked them; old habits, it seems, die hard.

“Oh, Legolas,” called Thranduil.  The Prince turned round to face his father again. “Enjoy your bath.”  Legolas smiled even wider; it was scary how well his father knew him.

*~*~*~*~*

Once he had finally scrubbed off all the grime and blood, Legolas reluctantly got out of the tub.  Now that he was clean, all he wanted to do was sleep for a long time. Unfortunately, he knew he was would be expected at dinner.  He slowly dressed and made his way to the dinning hall, where he was surprised to see all of his brothers.  Usually at least one member of the royal family was out on patrol or was occupied by some business or another, but not tonight—tonight everyone was sitting at the table waiting for him.

“There he is!” exclaimed Andunëdil. “We were just about to send out a search party for you brother.” Andunëdil was King Thranduil’s middle son. He was older than Legolas by about 500 years and was constantly teaming up with Orodan, Thranduil’s fourth son, against their youngest brother.  Andunëdil and Orodan were born extremely close in age, for elves that is, being only 30 years apart.  They were constantly together, whether around the palace or on patrol, and were usually causing trouble or playing pranks whenever they went.  Legolas liked them because they always seemed to keep any situation upbeat and amusing and were constantly able to charm their way out of trouble, even though they had, on more than one occasion, left him to take the blame.

“Sorry I’m late,” he mumbled as he took his seat at the table.

“No need to apologize ion nin, we know you just got back and would probably like to be in bed rather than here, so let’s hurry and eat,” said King Thranduil as he motioned to the servants.

Once Legolas had taken his seat the servants began to bring out the food.  He sat there quietly, barely eating anything, while everyone around him chatted away.  Occasionally someone would ask him a question and he would mumble out an answer before returning to his prodding of the food on his plate.  Finally, after what seemed like hours to him, Legolas could take no more.  He politely excused himself and left for bed, leaving a very confused family behind.

“What’s gotten into him?” asked Orodan, after Legolas had left. “He barely said two words tonight. I remember a time when we couldn’t get him to shut up; now we can’t get a full sentence out of him.”

“He’s probably just tired—after all, he did just return from a long patrol.  I’m sure once he gets some rest he’ll be back to his normal, cheery, talkative self,” said Andunëdil.

“I’m not so sure,” replied Tildur.  “I’ve noticed that his mood has become more sullen these past few years.  I do not think a simple good nights’ sleep will cure it.  It seems to me that as the darkness grows, Legolas becomes more sullen and oppressed.  I really think he needs a break, and I’m not talking about a break from patrolling. No, I believe that he needs to get out of Mirkwood for a while and go to some place where he doesn’t always have to worry about darkness creeping around the corner; some place like Lorien or Imladris.”

Tildur was Thranduil’s second son and Legolas’ favourite brother.  Tildur preferred reading and studying over fighting, although he was a more than capable warrior, and could usually be found in some corner of the library poring over an ancient tome.  He was always willing to lend an ear and was usually good about giving advice.

“I agree with Tildur.  Remember how he used to visit Imladris every few years, and when he got home he was always happier, more cheerful.  I think that is exactly what he needs right now,” said Crown Prince Aerandir.  Legolas wasn’t as close to Aerandir as he would have liked to have been.  Aerandir was over 1000 years older than Legolas and as crown prince and army commander he was often too busy to talk to; plus, on top of all that he had a wife and young son and so most of his free time was spent with them. 

Legolas had always seen Aerandir as his protector.  Some of his earliest memories involved his oldest brother moving sharp objects out of his reach or carefully helping him down from a tree when he had climbed too high.  At the time it had seemed annoying but now that he could reflect back on it, he was sure his brother had saved him from impaling himself with some sharp object on more than one occasion, not to mention all the times he had rescued him from Andunëdil and Orodan.  As much as Legolas wished he and his eldest brother were closer, he would not want to give up the protector/protected relationship they had now, no matter how annoying it got at times.

“The problem is, he doesn’t seem to want to visit Rivendell anymore.  Every since he met the twins he has either traveled there or they have come here every few years.  I don’t think they ever let five years go without seeing each other. Now it’s been about thirty since his last visit,” remarked Tildur.

“I remember that!” exclaimed Orodan, “when he came home he was very depressed; I thought that quite unusual.  Something happened on that trip but he refuses to talk about it and I gave up trying to figure it out long ago.”

“So you all agree: I should send him off somewhere?” asked the King; everyone nodded.  “All right, I will talk to him.”

TBC...

Elvish Translations

Adar/Ada = Father/ Dad or daddy

Naneth = Mother

Ion nin = My son