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, and goes with him to Imladris.

Adwanoth: Captain of the Palace Guard

Lalorn: Legolas’s mother

Hananuir: the third son and fourth child of Thranduil, one of Legolas’s older brother.

Gwiwileth: Thranduil’s only daughter and second child, Legolas’s sister.

Lebanuir: Guard who is assigned to watch Gollum. Was a friend to Hananuir.

Danuas: Another Elven guard.

Ivanneth: Thranduil’s chief Advisor.

Faelthinor: Younger warrior and friend of Legolas, who goes with him to Imladris.

Neldorin: Veteran warrior who accompanies Legolas to Imladris.

Maen: Legolas’s horse.

Carad: Hananuir’s horse.

Annalith: Imladris Elf, healer.

Banuir: Another Imladris Elf, also a healer.

Oranor: Another Imladris Elf, helped carry Hananuir’s litter.

Paerith: Another Imladris Elf, helped carry Hananuir’s litter.

Srahalor: Leader of the Imladris Party.

Ivrinaur: A healer in Imladris, a surgeon.

Jaeron: An Imladris captain.

The Result of Failure

Chapter Six: Arrival in Imladris

It was dark and the moon was rising as the scouting party from Imladris, along with Legolas, Hananuir, Brethil, Neldorin and Faelthinor made their way into the Last Homely House. Annalith and Oranor had reversed with Brethil and another Elf, Paerith, in carrying  Hananuir’s litter. Hananuir had not moved the entire journey, save a groan or two while the Elves traversed more difficult terrain. Banuir and Annalith bestowed a steady flow of concerned glances on Hananuir, which only served to lead Legolas to a state of nervous agitation.

Legolas nearly fell of his horse as an Elf appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Faelthinor eyes Legolas worriedly. Legolas merely shrugged and grinned sheepishly, all the while cursing himself for his paranoia.

Brethil and the leader of the Imladris Elves, Srahalor, conferred with the new arrival shortly, before each turned to his respective patrol to issue orders.

“Faelthinor, you will accompany Oranor to the stables, where you will tether our mounts. Oranor will show you to the barracks, in which you, I, and Neldorin will be quartered during our stay here. If your shoulder causes you pain, go to the healers.”

Faelthinor nodded briefly, took the reins of the other horses, and followed Oranor to the stables. All of the Imladris patrol, with the exception of Srahalor, Annalith and Banuir followed them.

Hananuir’s litter had been laid on the ground, and Legolas kept watch over his ailing brother. He was loathe to let Neldorin and Banuir take the litter, but stepped aside at Neldorin’s command.

“Come, Legolas. We will take Hananuir to the healers, and then we shall confer with the Lord Elrond.”

Legolas followed the litter with some apprehension. He had never met the Lord Elrond, only heard tales of this remarkable peredhil. He knew that Elrond Peredhil was old, and had been Gil-Gilad’s herald, in the War of the Last Alliance. He had also heard tell of his fabled healing skills, and hoped that they could aid his brother.

The group advanced slowly up stone steps that led them to an open hallway, surrounded by trees still green. Legolas started at this: in Mirkwood the healthy trees had already begun to change colors, in anticipation of the winter months ahead. Legolas’s musings were cut short as the party came face to face with Elrond Peredhil, Lord of Imladris.

The venerable Elf stopped short at this unexpected arrival. His brow furrowed as he observed Hananuir’s still form. After a short pause he began to question them.

“Srahalor, report.”

Srahalor bowed his head quickly, and began his report. “My Lord, we were barely a day out from Imladris, when we encountered this group from Mirkwood.”

“Thank you. Srahalor, please take the litter with Banuir to the healers. I will be there shortly, but firstly I must speak with our Northern neighbors.”

Srahalor nodded and took the littler from Neldorin. Together, he and Banuir quickly disappeared down the hallway. Legolas, Brethil and Neldorin were left alone with Lord Elrond.

Elrond gestured to a door on his left, and Neldorin, followed by Brethil and Legolas entered what Legolas assumed to be Lord Elrond’s study. It was not an excessively large room, consisting of an ornate desk piled with many scrolls, and the walls were lined with bookshelves. In front of the desk were four chairs, which Lord Elrond motioned Legolas, Brethil and Neldorin to as he seated himself at his desk.

“Legolas Thranduilion, I presume?” Legolas nodded and Lord Elrond continued. “I have seen you before, when you were quite small, but I doubt you remember me. Neldorin, it is good to see you again.” Neldorin smiled at Elrond’s remembrance of him. “However, I am not acquainted with you, sir.”

Brethil introduced himself. “I am Brethil, Lord Elrond. I am a lieutenant in King Thranduil’s forces and I have been entrusted with the leadership of our group.”

“I see. I received a letter from Thranduil informing me that you would be coming, Legolas, along with your brother Hananuir to attend my Council. I did not expect you to delay so long, and therefore I sent a patrol out to find you.”

“Thank you, my lord. Your foresight has helped us tremendously, and indeed has saved my brother’s life.”  Legolas said fervently.

“How exactly was he wounded? I would like to hear the tale in brief.”

“We were ambushed in the High Pass,” Neldorin answered. “Orcs attacked us from both sides. Hananuir took a poisoned arrow the night before your patrol found us.”

“A poison which,” Brethil continued, “I have not seen before, and neither has Neldorin.” Legolas started at this news, which made his brother’s condition all the more grave.

“Why was I not informed of this?” Legolas radiated fury.

With a sideways glance at Elrond, Neldorin answered. “We did not wish to worry you.”

Legolas was formulating a stinging reply when Lord Elrond interrupted. “Prince Legolas, if you will await my return here, I will go tend to your brother. I am familiar with many poisons, and I know that I will be able to assist your brother. If Neldorin and Brethil would be so kind as to accompany me?” Brethil and Neldorin both nodded and rose, but not before Legolas could interrupt.

“Forgive me, my lord, but I have no intention of waiting here. I will accompany you.” Legolas ignored Neldorin’s look of warning and Brethil’s pained expression. Lord Elrond, however, did not seem to mind.

“Very well then, if you wish to see for yourself come along. But,” Elrond added warningly, “do not disturb the healers.” The Lord of Imladris looked Legolas full in the eyes. Legolas felt like an elfling again, merely a child who is in the company of one he cannot hope to understand. The youngest Prince of the Woodland Realm nodded, and followed Elrond, Neldorin and Brethil out of the room.

Aragorn smiled lightly to himself as he crossed the corridor leading to Imladris’s library. “It is so good to be home” he mused. Aragorn looked to his right and noticed Elrond walking in the company of some Elves he did not recognize. “They are from Mirkwood, judging by their garb. Ah, he looks like Legolas.”  Aragorn walked two more steps and stopped. “Legolas?”  The Heir of Isildur turned around and walked quickly to where his adoptive father stood.

“My lord.” Aragorn bowed formally before Elrond. “Legolas!” Aragorn punched Legolas’s shoulder. Elrond sighed at the antics of his son; Legolas laughed; Neldorin smiled; but Brethil looked absolutely shocked.

“My lord?” Brethil asked uncertainly.

“Peace, Brethil. This is,” Legolas was interrupted by Aragorn.

“Estel. How do you do?” Aragorn smiled winningly at Brethil.

“We are all very well.” Lord Elrond answered for Brethil. “Estel, we must hurry to the hospital wing, for Hananuir Thranduilion lays there, poisoned by an Orcish arrow. You may accompany us.”

Aragorn nodded gravely and they continued their progress. Aragorn fell back to the rear of the group, with Legolas.

“Legolas, what happened?” Aragorn scanned his friend worriedly.

“We were ambushed in the High Pass. Hananuir took an arrow. He is very bad, Aragorn.”

“Do not worry, Lord Elrond will cure him, if anyone can. You are fortunate to have made good time here.”

“A patrol found us, or else we would not have arrived….in time.” Legolas managed and averted his gaze to stare straight ahead.

Aragorn did not further question his friend, and they continued in silence for a few moments until arriving in the healer’s hall. They were greeted by Banuir, who led them straight to a bed secluded by curtains in the rear of the hall. Annalith was there; cleansing Hananuir’s wound properly, and looked much relieved to see his Lord.

Elrond questioned Neldorin silently as to the type of poison, as he examined Hananuir’s wound. After a few minutes of tense silence, he spoke.

“This is a strong poison, but I have seen it before. He will survive, provided we act quickly. Banuir, fetch Ivrinaur.” Banuir hurried off as Elrond provided information to Neldorin. “She is an excellent surgeon.”

Legolas tensed at the word “surgeon” and Aragorn placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “What will you have to do?” Legolas asked nervously.

Elrond looked up, as if realizing for that first time that Legolas was there. The Lord of Imladris looked at Legolas piercingly.

“I am going to remove the poison from his body, and then I must stitch the wound. You will not be assisting this, Prince Legolas.” Legolas stared at Elrond with incredulity.

Elrond realized that Legolas was not likely to comply and stressed his plea. “Legolas, you do not want to see your brother in pain. Indeed, I am pained by Hananuir’s suffering. This will be better for everyone.”

Legolas tensed. “Forgive me, my Lord.” He did not know how he managed to speak respectfully. “I…” Legolas stopped speaking, appalled at what he had been about to say. He had almost told the Lord of Imladris that he did not trust Hananuir’s life in Elrond’s hands. He had almost insulted Lord Elrond in his own dwelling. Legolas blushed faintly and bowed. “I will depart.”

Elrond nodded. “Estel, take him to a guest chamber and feed him. He looks most exhausted.”

Aragorn nodded and both he and Legolas turned to leave. Legolas turned once to look upon Hananuir, wondering again how his elder brother, his protector, had fallen, while he, Legolas, remained hale. The youngest prince of Mirkwood shook his head sadly, and left the healer’s hall.

Aragorn led Legolas back the same way they had previously come, but instead of descending to the barracks and stables, they ascended two levels, until reaching what Legolas assumed to be the guest chambers Lord Elrond had mentioned. The hallway was wide, and the walls were intricately cared with a vine design, which reminded Legolas of the twisted branches of the trees in the Woodland Realm. Legolas turned away with a shudder, calling to mind the darkness of the Enemy was not how he wanted to spend his time at Imladris.

Legolas was jolted out of his reminiscing as Aragorn turned abruptly into the chamber to their left. Legolas entered the room that Aragorn had introduced as his “during his stay at Imladris.” The room was much larger than any Legolas had previously stayed in, with comfortable furniture and a wide balcony with a spectacular view of the valley below.

Legolas went to stand at the balcony, and after a moment Aragorn joined him.

“Legolas,” Aragorn began soothingly. “There is nothing you can do to help Hananuir now. Nor, should you worry. Lord Elrond is the best healer in all of Arda, and he will help your brother.”

Legolas smiled gratefully at his best friend. “Thank you, Aragorn.”

Aragorn grinned at his friend. “If you want to spend the whole night weeping like a distraught elleth, go ahead. I am going to get something to eat.” Aragorn turned and left the room, smiling to himself as he heard Legolas copy his actions.

The two friends left Legolas’s guest chamber and descended a flight of stairs, until arriving at the kitchens of Imladris. Appetizing aromas wafted through the open doorway, calling any who passed to enter. Aragorn and Legolas could not forego the temptation, so they too, gave into the smell.

The kitchens were empty, the hour being too late for anyone to be about. Legolas lit two candles, not wanting to attract attention with too much lighting. Aragorn smiled mischievously as he spotted a cake fresh out of the oven. Legolas discovered a stew pot, with the contents still lukewarm. The two friends set to with a hearty appetite. Neither noticed a pair of very similar dark heads creeping towards them.

Suddenly the candles went out, leaving Aragorn and Legolas in the dark.

“Legolas, why did you do that?” Aragorn asked irritably.

“Pardon me, Aragorn. I am standing here on the other side of the kitchen. You are the one standing nearest to the candles.”  Legolas exclaimed as a hand wrapped itself about his throat.

“Legola-?” Aragorn was cut short as hand punched him in the stomach, winding him.

If one were to have passed by the kitchens of Imladris in the early hours of the morning, one would have heard the sounds of a scuffle, and several oaths.

Aragorn recovered first, managing to pin his attacker to the ground. He held him still with a kick, while trying to light the candles. He finally succeeded as Legolas freed himself. Elf and Man regarded the two Princes of Imladris, Elladan and Elrohir.

Aragorn clenched and unclenched his fists in anger at the duo. Legolas recovered the power of speech first.

“What. Are. You. Doing.” Legolas punctuated each word very clearly and very slowly, letting his fury color his voice.

Elladan grinned cheekily. “Simply welcoming you to our home, Lord Legolas.” Both twins delivered a mocking bow, which only incensed Legolas further.

Aragorn had gotten himself under control, and decided to forestall any further bouts of…violent behavior. “Legolas do not mind the children. Unfortunately, they were left untended by their nurses. We will have to fulfill that position and ensure that these Elflings return to their beds.”

Aragorn regarded the twins, aware of Legolas’s muffled laughter. Neither looked very pleased.

“Estel, do let us have some fun with Legolas. Why we haven’t seen him, in what fifty years? Perhaps a century? Ever since he was a little thing! He probably doesn’t even remember us.”  Elrohir grinned mockingly at Legolas.

The youngest Prince of Mirkwood, however, was in no mood for games. “I remember you both perfectly. Believe me, your visit will never be forgotten.”

Aragorn had the good grace to muffle his laughter. Legolas regarded his friend pityingly as the Ranger continued to laugh. “I am going to my guest room because I am tired. You three children,” he stressed the word, “may linger in the kitchens to your hearts content. However, do not rouse me when the kitchen staff complains.” Finished delivering his ultimatum, Legolas pivoted on his heel and strode from the kitchen, unfortunately headed in the opposite direction of the guest quarters.

Aragorn and the twins made eye contact, and stifled their laughter. With unspoken accord, they left the kitchens and caught up with Legolas, who ignored their presence.

“Legolas, do not put on your ‘I am the Prince’ act. It really makes you look quite ridiculous, you know.” Elrohir informed Legolas conversationally.

“Legolas, you might want to caution yourself against making such bold declarations to the Lords of Imladris, especially if you are in the wrong.” Elladan continued.

Legolas stopped mid-stride and regarded Elladan. “I beg your pardon?”

“You are going the wrong way. Guest chambers are back that way.” Aragorn pointed helpfully in the right direction. He smiled affably as Legolas flushed slightly.

Legolas turned around and stalked forward. He heard the sounds of whispered comments made by the trio at his back. It was absurd that he had to put up with those two, when he was in no mood for pleasantries. Hananuir was dying and he had to content himself with the twins!

He turned the corner and all but ran up the stair case to his room. He remembered the way, and outdistanced Aragorn and the twins. He did not, however, consider other routes to his room, and all but plowed down Aragorn as he rounded the corridor.

Legolas swayed, but managed to stay upright. Aragorn was knocked into the twins, who stood behind him. How the trio did not fall to the ground was anyone’s guess. Elves and Man regarded each other warily.

“Are you quite finished, Prince Legolas?” Elrohir asked stiffly.

“I am, Lord Elrohir.” Legolas replied in the same tone of voice.

“Then perhaps we could step inside for some conversation?” Elladan voiced hopefully.

Legolas suddenly realized how stupidly they were behaving, and dissolved in helpless laughter, quite startling the others in his company.  “Ai, go in, go on. If I were in my normal state of mind, I should be ashamed of our actions. As it is, I am not.”

Aragorn nodded sagely. “Indeed, why follow such norms of behavior at this hour, when there are none to see?”

“Well said, Estel.” Elladan nodded approvingly. “It would be different, of course, if we were in the company of royalty.”

Legolas did not even bother with a retort; he simply entered the guest chamber and collapsed in the nearest chair. He suddenly realized that his thigh was paining him. He gestured for Aragorn and the twins to seat themselves in the room.

Aragorn, however, walked straight to Legolas and sternly looked down on his friend.

“Legolas, are you well?”

“Yes, Estel. I am tired, and putting up with their antics,” he gestured at the twins, “are not helping.”

Aragorn nodded and took a seat opposite Legolas. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, until it was broken by Elrohir.

“Legolas, I have heard reports that your brother Hananuir lies injured. True?” Elrohir continued after Legolas’s confirming nod. “Elladan and I have shortly returned from the north, and we have noticed an increase in Orc activity. Was it them?”

Legolas nodded again. “Poisoned arrow in the back. It seems,” Legolas continued more coherently, “at least according to Neldorin, that Orc numbers have nearly double in the Misty Mountains, if not tripled. Mirkwood is also besieged. We live surrounded by our enemies, practically penned in our homes. Spiders infest the trees, twisting them with their filth. Orcs and wargs patrol the forest floor, sometime in too great numbers for us to overwhelm them without loss.”

Aragorn continued the narrative. “I went as far into Mordor as the Dead Marshes, and even ventured some into the Emyn Muil. I noticed greater influx into the Black Gate and Minas Morgul itself. The Enemy is amassing much evil.”

Elladan nodded. “Lord Elrond has called a Council. I believe that is why you are here, Legolas. A representative of every race has been summoned and we will decide what to do.”

“What to do?” Legolas laughed harshly. “What can we do? Launch an assault on Sauron himself? I think not, Elrondillion.”

Perhaps Legolas was wearied from his journey, or perhaps he did not notice the glance traded between the three brothers.

Aragon spoke. “Come now! Let not your first night in Imladris be spent worrying over the future of our world. We will prevail, as always, and the darkness will be conquered, as it is every day, in all parts of Arda. Legolas, you are very tired, and you should rest. The morrow is nearly upon us! We will take our leave of you now.” Elladan, Elrohir and Aragorn stood. After bidding Legolas a good night, they left.

Legolas looked out his window, noticing the darkness of the hour. “It must be shortly before dawn, if the skies are so dark.” He mused tiredly. He collapsed on the bed, and gave into refreshing sleep.

*

Hananuir shook his head, to clear the darkness and vague figures who kept invading his dreams. He kept hearing voices in his head. If someone would only stop that throbbing in his back, he might be able to form a coherent thought. “Goodness it is dark. It must be very late.”  Hananuir tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy. Suddenly, he heard voices that seemed very nearby, and not at all like the faint echoes he had been hearing previously.

“He is doing much better, my lord.” Hananuir did not recognize this voice, but it was most definitely feminine.

“Excellent. I was sure he would. Pleas tell Prince Legolas he may come in now.” Legolas! Hananuir was happy that Legolas was apparently well. But why should Legolas be coming to visit Hananuir? And why couldn’t he get his eyes open!

He heard the sounds of a chair being adjusted somewhere near his body, and the sound of a door opening and closing. He then heard Legolas speak.

“Hananuir? I do not think you can hear me. But I am here, sitting beside you.” Hananuir frowned. Of course he could hear Legolas!

“I was so very worried about you, muindor. Lord Elrond took care of you. He is a most impressive personage.”

Hananuir was confused. What was Legolas talking about? Hananuir was fine, and why would Lord Elrond be here?

Legolas sighed. “I wonder why I am speaking to you. Hananuir, if you can hear me, do something. Move your arm, or open your eyes. Please?”

Hananuir wanted to inform his brother that he could hear him perfectly, and there was no need to shout. Instead, he opted for trying to open his eyes. After what seemed an impossibly long amount of time, he had cracked his eyelids open, and could see the blurry outline that, he assumed was Legolas.

“Bri.” Hananuir mumbled, suddenly realizing how dry his throat was. “War.” He waited impatiently for Legolas to get him something to drink. What was taking so long?

Legolas started incredulously at Hananuir. Had he tried to speak? But what was “bri?” And why should Hananuir be thinking of war?

“Hananuir, what is ‘bri’? Please, I do not understand what you are saying.”

Hananuir grumbled irritably. “Wa…ter.” He spoke as slowly and deliberately as he could, annunciating each word as clearly as possible.

“Water!” Legolas shouted triumphantly and a few moments later Hananuir felt a cup pressed up against his lips. Legolas lifted his head up, enough for him to gulp down the water.

“I am sorry, Hananuir. I did not understand what you were saying. I am so glad to see you are awake! You have been asleep for an entire day. I was beginning to worry, nay I have been worried since you took that arrow.”

Hananuir started, and nearly choked on the water he was drinking. Arrow! Orcs! The High Pass! He suddenly remembered all the events leading up to his injury. They must be in Imladris. The Council!

He coughed and sputtered. “Council,” he managed in-between gasps. His eyes were fully open now, and Hananuir was finally able to see where he was. It was a small room, sparsely furnished, but very clean. The sort you would find in an infirmary. So that’s where he was.

“Council?” Legolas asked after pounding Hananuir on the back. “Oh, that is not for another two days. It seems,” his voice turned stiff, “the Dwarven nor Human representative has arrived.”

“No, Legolas. I cannot go.” Hananuir regarded his brother’s surprise after receiving this information. Clearly Legolas had not planned ahead.

“Oh. I did not consider that.” Hananuir almost laughed at the look of dismay that crossed Legolas’s face.

“Muindor, what would you do without me?” Hananuir asked jokingly, although his back was throbbing incessantly.

Legolas frowned, and did not take the jibe. “I do not know. Thank the Valar you will be well.” He paused. “Who will represent Mirkwood if you are not well? Why, the Council will have to be postponed.”

“Nay, Legolas. You can go.” Legolas blinked, and then stared at Hananuir, as if seeing him for the first time.

“Me? I cannot! I a merely a younger son, not important enough to…” Hananuir interrupted Legolas with more vehemence than someone so recently injured should have.

“A younger son? Legolas, is that all you think of yourself as? You are more than adequate to represent the Woodland Realm. Adar himself could not fault this decision.”

Hananuir’s eyes flashed dangerously.

Legolas was rather surprised by his brother’s reaction. For, after all, he was the youngest son of a rather large family, in Elven terms. Legolas would never get a chance to rule, or be in a position of crucial importance, like Girithron, because Elves were immortal. The chances of Girithron himself ruling were slim, and even if Thranduil were to perish, Hananuir was still next in the line of succession. Legolas was quite content to remain a younger son.

He tried to appease Hananuir. “If you think that I am fit to do this, then I will be honored to represent us at the Council.” Hananuir nodded approvingly at Legolas’s solemn acceptance of his responsibility. “However,” his younger brother continued, “I believe that we should ask Lord Elrond’s permission.”

“Excellent idea, Prince Legolas.” Lord Elrond nodded briskly to the surprised brothers as he strode into the room. He waved Legolas aside, as the younger Elf began to rise.

“No need for formalities, Legolas. I came to check on Hananuir, and clearly I have arrived at a very good time, if there was something you wanted to ask me.” Elrond’s eyes were bright and knowing, proving that he apparently knew more than he was letting on.

“Yes, my lord. I would like to know whether you will grant permission for a change of representatives for the Council.” At Elrond’s nod, Hananuir continued. “I am wounded, and although your excellent care has helped immensely, I do not think I will be in the condition to attend such an important Council. Legolas, here,” Legolas half rose again, only to be waved at again by Elrond, “will represent the Woodland Realm. I assure you, he is quite adequate for this.”

Elrond was nodding slowly to himself and as Hananuir finished speaking, the Lord of Imladris fixed Legolas with a stare piercing enough to rival Thranduil’s. Legolas did not flinch or blink, as Elrond made some sort of mental appraisal of him. “Yes,” he finally said, “Legolas will go. Do not worry yourself, Hananuir, for he will represent your Realm very well indeed.”

Hananuir bowed his head. “Thank you, my lord.” Legolas murmured something similar.

“Now, Legolas, if you would please excuse us, I must check to see how your brother is healing. You may come visit him again in the afternoon, for he needs to rest now. He will be in the most capable hands here, I assure you. Estel is, I believe, in the library.” Legolas nodded and bowed politely to Elrond, and spared a concerned glance for Hananuir, who smiled weakly. Legolas was reassured that nothing would happen to his brother, so he turned and left the infirmary.

Elrond watched Legolas go, examining him calculatingly. Hananuir watched Elrond’s actions, wondering if perhaps his brother did not measure up to some standard set by the Imladris Lord. When Elrond did not speak for several minutes, Hananuir began the conversation.

“Lord Elrond, I hope you do not fault my choice in Legolas. He is our only available option.” Hananuir opened his mouth to continue, but Elrond raised a silencing hand.

“Nay, Hananuir. I do not find anything amiss with Legolas. Nay, I am pleased. He is fine Elf, and a good brother to you, I believe.”

Hananuir nodded and waited for Elrond’s next comment.

“Legolas is more than adequate, in fact,” here Elrond paused. He seemed at a loss for words. “In fact,” he began again, “there is something I must discuss with you, Thranduilion, something of grave import that you need to know.”

Hananuir nodded again and waited patiently as Elrond adjusted himself in the chair Legolas had recently vacated. However, the Imladris Lord did not speak immediately; rather he let silence stretch between them. When Hananuir was about to open his mouth, Elrond began.

“Do you know why I have called this Council?” The question was blunt, but one that Hananuir felt should be answered with care.

“I have some guesses, my Adar as well.” Elrond gestured for Hananuir to continue. “We believe, and your letter supports this, that something has been found. King Thranduil believes,” Hananuir stopped, aware that revealing this information could be a mistake. He ignored what his father might have cautioned and continued, “He believes that a weapon of the Enemy has been found, nay, The Weapon. The One Ring has been found, hasn’t it?” He turned this last statement into a question, unsure.

“It has been found, and it is here, in Imladris, even as we speak.” Hananuir gasped at this news. “Yes, Thranduilion, dark times are upon us, dark times. I have called this Council, as you might now have guessed, to inform the free races of Middle Earth that this peril lies in our grasp. We must act, and decide what to do with it.”

Hananuir remained silent; he did not know what the solution was. Elrond, too, stopped speaking, as if the confirmation that such a weapon lay in their hands overwhelmed him. The silence grew, as did Hananuir’s fears. A cold dread had settled in the pit of his stomach, one he knew would not be easily dispelled.

Elrond sighed wearily and began speaking again. “I do not know what the Council will decide, but I can guess with more certainty than most. There are so few options left to us, and only one that has any merit or any chance of success.” The Lord of Imladris now leveled his full gaze on Hananuir, who did not know what say. “The Ring must be destroyed.”

Hananuir goggled at Lord Elrond. As the shock sank into his bones, he knew in his heart that was the only course to follow, the only right path. He knew the Ring would have to be destroyed, and Sauron with it. Hananuir might be a pacifist at heart, but he had not forgotten the tales of war from the Second Age. Hananuir had not been born when the Last Alliance and Battle of Dagorland took place, but he had heard stories of his courageous elder brother Celeguir and wise grandfather Oropher, who had perished that day, along with countless others. He knew of the evil that twisted his beloved forest daily, taking the lives of many brave warriors. Hananuir understood the evil. He nodded slowly, somehow accepting this plan.

“I understand, Lord Elrond.” Elrond started and regarded him thoughtfully.

“You do?” The question was a silent challenge.

“I do. The Ring must be destroyed, and I have lost too much to the Darkness not to agree with you. But I do not understand how this will affect Legolas. He is, I assume, the point of this discussion?”

Elrond laughed softly. “He is, indeed. Someone must go and take the Ring to Orodruin. Nay,” he countered at the look of horror on Hananuir’s face. “Not Legolas. That is not for him. He has a different destiny, one that is closely tied to that of the Ring. Although we are all affected by it, only one can determine its final fate. I will not reveal all to you now, or Legolas will have nothing to tell you after the Council. I wish to simply warn you that your brother will be involved in this business, more so, than perhaps you, or your adar, would permit.”

Hananuir caught the wry tone in Elrond’s voice, proving that the Imladris Lord knew full well what Thranduil’s reaction to this information would be. It was common knowledge that the King of the Woodland Realm was shamelessly over-protective of his own, and did not like to “meddle” in the affairs of others, in other words, Men. Thranduil would not look favorably on Legolas participating, however little, in such affairs.

“My lord,” Hananuir began tentatively, “I understand all that you have said to me, furthermore, I agree with you. I see that you know the disposition of King Thranduil, and I will not hide from you his probable displeasure at our involvement. However, I have rather different beliefs than my adar. Legolas is free to assist in this venture by any means he can provide. But,” Hananuir raised his hand to counter the slow smile spreading across Elrond’s face, “I hope you are prepared to explain it to King Thranduil.”

Elrond let out a hearty peal of laughter, some of which was echoed in Hananuir’s unabashed grin.

“Well said, Thranduilion, well said. Thank you. Legolas is fortunate to have you as his brother. I thought you might be sympathetic. But now,” Elrond stood briskly, “you should rest. That wound still pains you, although you have carefully not mentioned it. Legolas will be in to see you later this evening. Rest well, Prince Hananuir.” Hananuir bowed his head in acknowledgment of Elrond’s parting words. He had planned to think over this matter, but somehow he felt an incredible fatigue spreading throughout his entire body. Hananuir was asleep before Elrond had closed the door of the small room.

The Lord of Imladris strode purposefully down the hall, heading in the direction of his study. He had much to think over. As he continued on his way, he heard hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor behind him. He turned to see a servant bearing a message for him.

“My lord.” The Elf bowed respectfully. “I am here to inform you, my lord that the Dwarven party has arrived. They are just now entering our borders.” Elrond nodded, relieved, that the Dwarves had finally been spotted. Elrond had been afraid that they would not make the Council.

“My lord, if I may?” The servant asked for permission to continue. “Our scouts have caught sight of rider making his way to our land, as well. He is a man, from Gondor, according to his garb. Captain Jaeron believes him to be the representative of Men, one of the sons of the Steward Denethor.” Elrond nodded and dismissed the servant.

He was very relieved to know that all the representatives were almost accounted for and the Council could begin shortly. He frowned grimly as he perceived what a Council it would be.