Disclaimer: All characters and events portrayed in this story are the property of Tolkien Estates. I make no profit from this endeavor, except my own entertainment and that of my readers.

Italics denote thoughts. Bold font denotes spoken or thought emphasis. Quotations marks denote spoken dialogue. There is a glossary of Elvish terms at the bottom of each chapter.

Legolas is born in 2460 of the Third Age. This would make him about 557 in this story, which takes place in 3017.

Thanks to Nilmandra and Nora for beta-reading this for me.

List of Characters:

Legolas: Come on

Thranduil: Legolas’s father and King of the Wood land Realm

Girithron: Legolas’s elder brother, the third child and second son of Thranduil. Is the heir to the kingdom as Thranduil’s eldest, Celeguir, was killed at Dagorland.

Brethil: The warrior who saved Legolas from an orc.

Adwanoth: Captain of the Palace Guard

Aragorn: A Ranger, adopted son of Elrond, Heir of Isildur.

The Result of Failure

Chapter One- A Small Request

Legolas walked into the throne room with dread. He had just returned from his Patrol, and had been ordered to see the King as soon as he was able. Legolas did not plan on keeping his father waiting, for as he was perfectly aware, Thranduil never saw him in public unless it was for punishment.

He waited while the herald announced his arrival.

“Prince Legolas.” Legolas walked forward and knelt before the king. He waited nervously for permission to stand. The Elf heard the sounds of the herald retreating and closing the door behind him. He saw through the corner of his eyes the guards stationed at the doors, and a group of courtiers in the antechamber. He sighed. Why did Adar always have to punish his sons in front of the entire court?

“Legolas.” With the barest hint of acknowledgement, Thranduil began. “What did you think you were doing?” The King kept his voice neutral.

Legolas winced, as he rose.  I see someone has informed him about the incident with the orc. “Adar, I can only say how sorry I am to have pursued a lone orc. By my conduct, I deserve any punishment you see fit.”

Thranduil was livid. His son was not going to sweet-talk his way out of this.

“Do you have any idea the danger you put yourself in? If Brethil had not been there, you would be dead! Do you understand me? You have no business breaking formation and wandering off to pursue an orc you thought was the leader!” Thranduil was standing and yelling now. What had this child been thinking?

“Not only did you endanger yourself, but you put the entire Patrol at risk! What if during the interval they had been searching for you, another group of orcs came upon them, unexpectedly? Or, if the orcs had planned that trap to ensnare the other warrios? You cannot take situations at face value!” The King continued.

The younger Elf quivered but did not back away.

“I am sorry. I...”

“Sorry? Do you think that is acceptable?” Thranduil interrupted.

"No, I...” Legolas narrowed his eyes slightly as he was again interrupted by his father. How did Thranduil expect him to explain his reasoning if the Elven king barely let him speak?

“You what? Legolas, this is intolerable! Do you honestly believe there is an explanation you can give that would excuse your conduct?” Thranduil’s eyes flashed dangerously on this last sentence.

“I erred in my assesment of the situation, adar!” The Prince exploded.

“And you believe this is acceptable from a warrior of the Woodland Realm?” Thranduil demanded.

Legolas cringed inwardly. Apparently, I am being disciplined as a soldier and not as a son. It was difficult for the Royal Family to decide when to act as the commanding unit and when to act as a family.

"Forgive me, my lord. I will not conduct myself this way again. I also accept whatever punishment you would bestow upon me, knowing that I am more than worthy of it."  Legolas replied humbly, lowering his eyes. 

Thranduil reined in his temper. He had been absolutely mortified at the possibility of losing his last son. He snorted mentally. Legolas has been a warrior for five-hundred odd years. I should not be so protective. Thranduil quashed this thought. He would not lose his little Greenleaf.

“Iôn nín, I accept your apology and your promise to never do this again.”

Legolas nodded, but looked confused at the change in discipling tactics. Apparently, he was a son again.

Thranduil continued. “However, I cannot have you endangering your fellow warriors in this manner. This is the second time you have done this, Legolas."

Legolas flinched at the reminder. He had been much younger the first time he had followed a lone Orc. The Prince had been new to the Patrol, and he wanted to show his captain how brave he was. His father had had given him such a tongue-lashing that day. This time, Legolas had followed the Orc quite by accident. Accidents, however, were no excuse.

The King continued. "You need to learn discipline and responsibility. You will be reassigned to the Palace Guards. Do you understand?” Thranduil flinched at the look in his son’s eyes. It is for the best.

Defiance flared in Legolas’s eyes, but for only the briefest of moments. He understood what he had done was wrong. He would face up to the responsibility entrusted to him. Besides, he had requested punishment.

“I understand, my lord. I promise to serve faithfully and well.”

“Very good. At the end of the year, I will review your behavior and perhaps reassign you.” Thranduil’s eyes twinkled at the sigh that escaped his youngest child with this recent proclamation.  He is just like Celeguir.

“Do not worry, iôn nín, it is not as long as it seems.”

“Yes, Adar.” Legolas dutifully replied.

Girithron had been waiting patiently in the antechamber, awaiting the judgment to be passed on his younger brother. When he heard that all was well between Legolas and Thranduil, he approached the throne, without waiting for an introduction.

“My lord.” He inclined his head in lieu of a bow.

“Girithron, arise. What is amiss?” The King was not surprised by Girithron's abrupt entrance. This particular son was notorious for his lack of decorum.

“We have a guest, my lord. It is a Man, one of the Dúnedain by the looks of him. He says he brings a message from Mithrandir, and a prisoner.” He waited patiently for Thranduil’s response.

“One of the Dúnedain? Do they not make their home up North?” Thranduil pondered the dilemma. “Are you sure the message is from Mithrandir himself? Surely he can find someone better to carry out his errands.”

“It is, my lord. The Man bears a letter with the seal of Mithrandir himself, or else I should not have believed him. He is a strange Man, despite claiming friendship with the Maiar. He does not seem nervous around us, as the Men of Esgaroth tend to be.” Thranduil's heir cocked his head in thought.

“I suppose that if Mithrandir has sent a sealed letter of approval, we should hear him. Girithron, summon him.” Thranduil briefly considered the validity of the Dúnedain's claim.

“My Lord. I believe he requested a more...private setting for our meeting.” Girithron informed his father.

Thranduil frowned. True enough, his throne room was not exactly discreet. Servants and guards were stationed at the doors, and in the corners. Courtiers and nobles adorned the lower chamber. He believed, however, that a public punishment was likely to remain with Legolas than if he were reprimanded in Thranduil’s private study. However, if Mithrandir had sent this Man all the way from Valar knew where then it must be important.

Thranduil sighed. “Very well then. Show him to my study. Legolas, go see Adwanoth. He will station you somewhere in the palace where you cannot do any harm.” With that Thranduil strode from the room with Girithron in his wake, leaving a disgruntled Legolas behind. 

Legolas frowned. He wasn’t some bumbling oaf who couldn’t string a bow. He was one of the best archers in his patrol. Was. He sighed at the reminder of his new duty. He would now be serving in the Palace Guard. The younger Elf groaned. Although important, this position was mostly filled by older warriors who no longer fought; those who had families near the palace and did not wish to travel far; and the disorderly. He hated to fall into the latter category.

Well, he mused, a year isn’t too long a time.  He grimaced and began walking towards Adwanoth’s office, all the while pondering what a strange Dúnedain would be doing in the Woodland Realm.

***

“You may rise.” Thranduil frowned at the rugged man in his presence. By the smell of him, he hadn’t bathed in quite a while. By the looks of him, he had just battled a contingent of orcs.  Thranduil did not understand why Men would not take the trouble to clean themselves, especially this one.

“What is amiss?” The King of the Woodland Realm began the informal meeting.

The Man smiled grimly. Wood elves were always so direct and to the point.

“My Lord. I beg of you a favor, on behalf of the Istar Mithrandir.” The Man kept his voice polite and emotionless.

Thranduil frowned. “Yes, Mithrandir is known to us here. What is his message?”

The Man grimaced. This was not going to be easy. He motioned to the guard in the hall to come forward. The Elf hesitated, clearly not wanting to take orders from a Man. He came forward reluctantly when Thranduil beckoned, because he was struggling with the bound figure of a small creature. The guard finally succeeded in bringing the fighting creature forward, and presented him to his audience.

Thranduil started. “What is that creature doing in my realm?”

“My Lord, this is the favor you are requested to perform. This is the creature Gollum, which Mithrandir hunted for many years. He must be kept safe at all costs. Mithrandir believes the elves of the Woodland realm are quite capable of handling him. He cannot escape you.” The Man recited patiently.

“Mithrandir hunted him for many years, you say? Why should this creature prove so difficult to catch? Or so important?” Thranduil narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“He is devious, my lord.” The Man remarked.

“You know this how? I do not recall your mentioning that you were involved in the hunt at all.” The Elven King was becoming increasingly annoyed by the evasive responses of this Man. One would warrant he had been in contact with Elves...

“Forgive me, my lord. I did catch Gollum. Mithrandir enlisted my aid, and it was by chance that I happened upon him. Indeed, I was ready to despair before I found him.” The Man seemed reluctant to divulge this information.

“Where did you find him?” Thranduil was not yet satisfied.

“In the outskirts of the Dead Marshes.” The answer was bruque.

“The Dead Marshes? Any who go there are dangerous. It is too close to Mordor.” Thranduil frowned, but snapped back to attention. “I do not understand why Mithrandir cannot keep the creature.” he gestured at Gollum. “Or why he needs your aid to ensnare creatures or deliver messages. Who are you?”

“A Ranger from the North, one of the Dúnedain. I am called Strider, or Longshanks by others.” The Man seemed even more reluctant to give his name. However, as he and the Elven King both realized, it would be extremely rude if he did not.

“That does not tell me who you are. Others may call me a Man, but that does not make me one.” Thranduil leveled his Elven gaze at the Man, who did not flinch, or even blink.

The Man did not speak.

“I see you do not wish to reveal your identity. This does not sit well with me, messenger of Mithrandir.” Thranduil was becoming slightly impatient, which was rare for the First Born. 

“My lord, does the messenger affect the message? Mithrandir trusts me, and wishes you would as well. He needs this creature kept safe. Will you help him?” The Man presented his logic without hesitation.

Thranduil scowled. He did not like the way the Man had changed the topic of conversation. One would think he had conversed with Elves before. He looked sidelong at Girithron, who, although he had not spoken, appeared interested.

“Again, I would know why the Woodland Realm? I do not like the looks of this creature, and the fact that he came from the Dead Marshes only increases my dislike of him. Why should my woods be poisoned with him?”

The creature in question hissed. Thranduil frowned at it, but his gaze continued to bore into the Man’s.

“My Lord, may I speak plainly? This creature is a danger to Middle Earth and its free peoples. It might be a spy of the enemy. Surely this small request is feasible?” The subtle strain in the Man's voice indicated a growing impatience.

“My lord. I believe that Strider’s request can come to no harm.” Girithron voiced his opinion for the first time.

Thranduil frowned. He had not asked Girithron’s opinion. Of course, his third child was never one to withhold it. I do not know what danger that creature may bring here. I would be wary of any spy of the Enemy, if that is indeed what it is. I do not like this Man, nor are all his looks in truth. But if Mithrandir said...he has always been kind to us....

“Very well. Guard, take this prisoner to the dungeons. Girithron will escort you." Thranduil motioned to the guard and his son, lastly turning his attention to the Man. "This is where we shall keep him. He will not escape us.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” The Man bowed low. He knew he was grinning from ear to ear like a drunken fool, but he did not care. He had not traveled to the outskirts of Mordor to catch Gollum, to be refused by an Elven king.

“Mithrandir will be most pleased to learn of your acceptance. I would like to thank you for myself as well; catching it was no easy task.” The Man lowered his eyes in submission, but could not help beaming at the success of his venture.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at the joyful Man before him. Must humans always be so obvious in their feelings?

“My lord?” Thranduil’s musings were cut short as the Man spoke once again.

“Speak.” The king replied cautiously.

“I have another small request to make. I would accompany the creature to the dungeons. Mithrandir’s orders.” He hastily added at the frown upon Thranduil’s face. “And,” he continued quickly, “If I could have a place for the night?”

Thranduil regarded him. “You may accompany the prisoner to the dungeons. I would normally allot a place in the barracks for someone of your...station. However, you are representing Mithrandir, and he, nor any of his friends, shall be mistreated in my house, when they have done nothing to deserve it. You may tell him I spoke thus.”

“Yes, my lord.” The Man made to leave, but Thranduil stopped him.

“I do not know what you hide from me, messenger, but let me warn you: I will not hesitate to strike should it be needed. Keep in mind: you are not Mithrandir.” The king hoped the warning would not be justified.

The Man did not flinch. “Yes, my lord. I shall see to it that you will not need to strike.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes, but did not pursue the subject. He motioned to a servant, who stood in the corner of his study.

“Take him to the dungeons, and then to one of the second level guest chambers.” The king felt this arrangement would be suitable.

“Very good, my lord.” The Man bowed and turned to accompany Girithron, the prisoner, the guard and the servant. Thranduil regarded the creature as it was dragged from the room.

“Nasty elfses. Very bad.” It muttered. “We shall not let them keep us, shall we, precious? Gollum. Gollum. Nasty and tricksy, they are, yes.”

Gollum continued muttering to himself as he was taken along the halls. The party received many an odd glance from passerby. Girithron shrugged it off with his stoic expression that forbade questioning. The Man walked placidly behind the Prince, ignoring the stares directed his way.

As they rounded the corridor that led to the dungeons, they encountered Legolas. He was just leaving Adwanoth’s office, coincidentally with a frown upon his face. He stopped short at the sight of this frog-like creature in the company of his brother.

“Girithron. What’s that?” Legolas was somewhat repulsed by Gollum's smell, but could not the keep the curiousity out of his voice.

“A prisoner.” Girithron noticed as his brother’s gaze slid from Gollum to the Man, and as his eyes widened. Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again immediately. He paused and then apparently chose something better to say.

“Pray, Girithron, who is this Man?” Girithron introduced Strider, noticing Legolas’s questioning gaze and the Man’s warning expression.

“Strider, will you be staying in the Woodland Realm tonight?” The younger Elf asked politely.

“I shall.” Girithron frowned as the Man omitted Legolas’s title from his answer. Although his brother was a younger Prince, he was still Royalty.

The Man obviously noted Girithron’s disapproval and hastily amended. “I would be honored, my lord, if you would accompany me to my quarters. I am most interested in how Gollum,” Strider gestured at the creature, “shall be kept here, and I know Mithrandir enjoys particulars.”

“Of course.” Legolas nodded to Girithron and dismissed the servant. He gestured to Strider, and then turned around and continued walking.

Girithron frowned after them, wondering if there was some connection between his brother and this strange Dúnedain. He resolved to question Legolas about it later, then motioned the guard forward and continued  towards the dungeons.

Legolas turned quickly to make sure there was no one in sight, before stopping and staring at Strider.

“Aragorn! I heard that a Dúnedain had come, but I did not think it would be you. What in all the Valar are you doing here?” he asked curiously.

“Keep your voice down. I am here to deliver Gollum into the keeping of your people, on behalf of Mithrandir. I have just successfully accomplished my mission.” Aragorn kept his voice pitched low. 

“Gollum? This name is not known to me.”  Legolas frowned.

“He was found near Mordor, and Mithrandir and I think him to be some sort of spy. More than this, I cannot tell you.” The Ranger kept his answer short.

“Why ever not? I shall not reveal this to anyone.” Th Elf was rather piqued that his friend could not trust him.

“Nay, Legolas. Peace, my friend,” Aragorn added at Legolas’s frown. “I do not mean any offense towards you, but I do not know very much myself. Mithrandir knows more, and by his bidding I will not tell you.”

Legolas regarded Aragorn, his mouth turned down in displeasure. “Very well, Aragorn. If this is what you think it best, I will not press you. My mind is spinning with possibilities, for although you will not tell me, I can still guess.”

“Guess away, Legolas. But do not reveal to any your suspicious, it could prove disastrous.” Aragorn sincerely hoped that his Elven friend would not guess the correct answer.

“Why?” Legolas asked innocently.

“Legolas,” Aragorn sighed in exasperation. “I am not going to tell you. The time will come when it is right for you to know, and then I will tell you everything. Until then, be patient. And, do not let Gollum escape.”

“Ai, Aragorn.!” Legolas opened his mouth to continue speaking, but was interrupted by Aragorn.

“Legolas, speak softly. It is also not the time for any to know who I am.” The Ranger glanced furtively around them.

 “Very well, then, Strider. I shall not reveal your identity. I will also make sure this creature does not escape us.” The Elf conceded.

“Thank you, Legolas. I am sorry, mellon nín, for all that I wish to say, but cannot.” Aragorn was truly sorry for keeping his friend in the dark. He knew the frustration that it caused.

“Think nothing of it, Strider. Come, tell me of your travels since the last time I saw you. For I wager you have not been idle.” Legolas changed the topic.

“That would reveal too much, Legolas, and you know it.” Aragorn was not fooled by his friends' new tactic.

“Alright, then. I desist.” Legolas raised his hands in mock defeat.

Aragorn shook his head at his friend's antics, and resolved to steer the topic of conversation in another direction completely. “Tell me of yourself. What goes on in the Woodland Realm?”

Legolas answered, and they entered the hallway where the guest quarters were located. They did not notice that as they passed the threshold, a cloud covered the sun, leaving the land below in sudden darkness.

Adar- “Father”

Iôn nín- “My son”

Mellon nín- “My friend.”