THE GOLDEN BELL OF GREENLEAF

Author: lwarren

Summary:  Legolas regains his strength and begins to apply new lessons learned.  (This chapter might have been better named RR&R – Rest and Recovery in Rohan! J)

Reviews:  Please!  I will frame each and every one!

Disclaimer:  The characters and places of Middle-earth belong to JRR Tolkien.  I am only borrowing them for a time and receive nothing from their use but the joy I’ve gained in writing this story.

Chapter 9:  Comes a New Day

     Legolas sat and ate hungrily of the food on the tray Eolyn had placed before him.  Beside him in chairs arranged on both sides of the bed, Aragorn, Gimli, Aravir, Elfwine and Eomer sat watching every bite that went into the elf’s mouth.   After the initial joyful reaction to his awakening, his friends had said little other than to ask if he was well or if he needed anything.  As he took a long draught of the hot tea, Legolas felt thankful for that small mercy.  He was not sure he was capable yet of explaining his “dream”.

     The careful scrutiny of his friends escaped his notice at first.   His main goal since being carried in from the garden consisted of getting as much food in his mouth as possible while still observing some semblance of manners.  The offering from the kitchen consisted of broth and a light pudding, as well as some dry toast and the tea.  Not very substantial to his mind, but after a token protest and Eolyn’s reminder that he had been unconscious for over a week…nearer two…he had given in gracefully.   No matter…it was food and he was convinced no elf in the long history of Arda had been or ever could be as hungry as he was right at this moment in time.

     So he drank the flavorful broth and scooped the pudding out of the bowl greedily.  He was down to licking off the pudding left on the spoon, and at the point of trying to decide whether or not to dip his finger into the bowl and scrape it clean when the combined weight of five pairs of eyes finally caught his attention.  He paused in the act of cleaning the spoon, his bright eyes lifting to find those present in the room focused on him…and said spoon. 

     He looked at each of them, one eyebrow arched, the spoon half in – half out of his mouth, eliciting a giggle from Elfwine.  Turning his gaze on the boy, he let a very small smile escape and licked the utensil clean before he lowered it and returned the regard of his audience. 

     “What?” he asked.  No reply seemed forthcoming and Elfwine stifled another laugh at his offended expression.

     Aragorn cleared his throat, and asked, “How do you feel now, Legolas?”  A very small grin threatened the corners of his lips as he examined the elf on the bed before him.

     “From the looks of things, he is feeling much better, Aragorn,” Gimli snorted, his relief evident to any who knew him well.  “Do you see?  I told you - he WAS testing all of us!”  Legolas turned surprised gray eyes on the dwarf.

     “Testing?”  Legolas took a deep breath.  “Testing you?”

     The mock-offended expression quickly became honest outrage and the hand holding the spoon turned it into a projectile and bounced it off Gimli’s head. 

     “Tell me, Master Dwarf!  Did you PASS my test?  Or perhaps I should set you another.” 

      Legolas quickly removed the tray to the bedside table, threw aside several of the pillows behind him and slid down in the bed.  Drawing the quilt up, he folded his hands on the covers and closed his eyes wearily.  Testing them?  His lips tightened with displeasure at the thought.  He did not see Aragorn motion everyone to leave the room, or Gimli’s partially perturbed guilty expression.

     In the quiet that followed, Aragorn spoke, “Legolas, he was not serious.”  Legolas opened his eyes and stared at his friend steadily.

     “Well, not entirely serious,” the King said.  “It is just you woke up so quickly and completely…and hungry.”

     “So that, of course, means I was pretending,” the elf replied sarcastically.  He closed his eyes again.

     “Legolas…”

     “I am tired, Aragorn,” Legolas spoke softly.  “And I know well Gimli’s tendency to jest with me.  It is just that…”

     Aragorn waited for him to continue, but the elf closed his mouth and shook his head, repeating, “I am tired.  I would like to rest now…”

     Aragorn opened his mouth to speak again, then thought better of it.  He rose from his chair and walked to the door.  Before leaving, he turned.  “Sleep then, my friend.  We will speak later, if you wish.”

     Blue-gray eyes opened to stare at the ceiling after the door closed behind Aragorn.  I suppose I should have expected this…especially given how long I was unconscious.  It seems I have some explaining to do and yet I am not sure how to go about it.  Gimli especially will never believe my story. 

     He sighed, and felt the heavy weight of sleep pressing on him.  He tried to relax, thinking back to his time with the Lady and all he had learned there.   His eyes going slightly unfocused, he slipped finally into elven dreams of crashing waves and the music of the sea.

     Aragorn walked down the hallway to the large sitting room where the others had retreated.  When he entered the room, Elfwine leaped to his feet and ran to him, his face full of concern.  “Is he all right?” 

     Aragorn placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder and led him back to the others.  “He is resting right now.” 

     His eyes lifted to find Eomer standing before the fireplace.  The two men exchanged an understanding glance and Eomer went to his son.  “Come, Elfwine.  We will go and eat, and then perhaps see to the horses.  We can come back later this evening when Legolas is awake again.” 

     Elfwine gazed up into his father’s eyes for a moment, then agreed.  “All right, father.  I need to return Arod to the stables anyway.  We just left him outside in the garden.”

     Eomer nodded.  “Mistress Eolyn had her daughter tether Arod near a nice patch of new grass and give him water and an apple as a treat.  He has not lacked for care, but yes, you do need to return him to the stables.  I am pleased you remembered that, my son.” 

     Slipping an arm about the boy’s shoulders, he led him out of the room, saying over his shoulder, “We will see all of you later this evening.”  

     An uncomfortable silence settled upon the room.  Aravir sat in his chair, staring out the window at the garden and the distant mountains.  Gimli sat staring into the newly cleaned fireplace, his expression closed.  Aragorn sighed, and lowered his head to rest on his hand, staring at nothing.

     “I did not mean it, you know,” a rough voice broke the silence. 

     Aragorn sighed again.  “I know, and so does he, Gimli.  I think for a time we will need to proceed with caution.  There is a story behind these past days; I can feel it when I look in his eyes.  Something has changed.  In order for him to confide in us, we must approach him with care.” 

     The dwarf nodded.  “Fool elf,” he muttered.  “He should know I spoke out of concern.  Usually he is the first one to notice.”  He shook his head.

     Aravir looked up at that.  “We must allow for these oversights, Master Gimli.  He did look tired when we left, as if the strain of awakening had wearied him greatly.”

     Gimli huffed.  “Twas not the strain of awakening that wearied him, Master Elf, but the effort he expended eating all that food so quickly!”

     Aragorn smothered a laugh, and Aravir nodded, smiling.  “It was quite a spectacle, was it not, my lords?” 

     The tension melted away as the three chuckled at the memory of the impeccably mannered, immaculate Prince striving to put away as much food as possible in a very short amount of time.  They sobered quickly, however, and spent the next hour speculating on what might have caused Legolas’ long sleep.  Mistress Eolyn entered the room in the middle of their discussion with refreshments and a question. 

     “Beggin’ your pardon, my lords,” she said quietly when the conversation ceased as she began handing them their tea.  “Do the Firstborn sleep differently from men?”

     Aragorn nodded.  “If he has recovered sufficiently, his eyes will be slightly open and unfocused.”

     Eolyn heaved a sigh of relief.  “Oh good.  Then it’s all right.  Gave me quite a turn, he did, when I went in his room to get that tray.  I’ve never seen the like…I thought…” she stopped, her distress obvious to the three. 

     Aragorn patted her hand consolingly.  “No, actually, I am relieved to hear your words.  It is when his eyes are closed that something is wrong.”

     Eolyn eyed her three guests, and said, “I couldn’t help hearin’ what ye were talkin’ about when I came in the room.  Seems to me, the more normal ye can make things, the better he’ll feel about ever’thing that’s happened.  Ye make the lad feel strange, and like as not he’ll never say a word to ye…never mind ye bein’ his friends and all.”  Dipping a quick curtsey, she left the room to return to the kitchen.

     Aragorn eyed his two companions, smiling ruefully.  “The lady speaks truth, no matter if it is Kings or lords who need to hear it.  And she is right, my friends.  We will not make an issue of this.  After all, he is still Legolas.  He will tell us in his own good time.”  Gimli and Aravir nodded. 

     “Right you are, then, lad.  Normal, it is,” Gimli said.  He smirked.  “And it has been far too long since the elf and I had one of our “talks”.” 

     “Now, Gimli,” Aragorn began. 

     “No, Aragorn, you said normal,” the dwarf reminded him.  “What is more normal than Legolas and I insulting each other?” 

     Aravir and Aragorn had to agree that for the moment, nothing came to mind.

                                            ~~~*~~~

     When Legolas awakened once more, it was dark outside. Someone had kindled a blaze in the room’s large fireplace to dispel any chill.  The door opened quietly and a tall, matronly figure with silvered golden hair entered with a large pail in her hand.  He watched as she poured the steaming contents into a large tub standing before the fire and left the room again. 

     His eyes closed briefly in appreciation.  A bath?  I would give half…nay, ALL of my father’s treasure for a bath right now.  An amused grin appeared on his face at the fanciful thought.

     The door opened once more and the lady entered with another steaming pail of water, followed by the tall slender figure of a girl carrying several towels.  Her mother…it had to be her mother…the resemblance was striking…whispered something and the girl nodded in reply, putting the towels on a nearby chair and leaving the room.  Legolas pushed himself up in the bed and watched as the lady continued her preparations.  Finally, she turned and started slightly at the sight of the elf sitting up, watching her with those star-bright eyes of his.

     “Well, my lord, it appears ye are to be givin’ me fits and starts as long as ye are here!” she grumbled good-naturedly.  She walked over to the bedside and stood looking at him closely.

     “I beg your pardon,” Legolas said softly, “If I startled you, I assure you it was unintentional.” 

     She waved her hand, dismissing his apology and saying, “Never ye mind, lad.  Tis not your fault this old woman has ne’er seen an elf before!” 

     She smiled and placed a large, work-worn hand on his forehead.  “Good.  No return of that fever they told me ‘bout.  Now, my lord,” she turned a considering look on the bemused elf.  “Ye look to be the kind that enjoys bein’ clean.” 

     Her eyes widened at the bright beauty of the smile he gifted her with, and she shook her head.  “Here now, none of that.  It remains to be seen if ye can get from this bed to the tub.” 

     Legolas laughed.  “I assure you, my lady, I can.” 

     She sniffed, amused at his words.  “Well, I see one thing for certain.  Seems to me the male elf isn’t much different from a man.  All right, then, up ye come and let’s see.” 

     Legolas waved her away and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  He stood, a triumphant look on his face…and almost fell on that same face.  Eolyn grabbed him under the arm, propping him up until the dizziness passed and he seemed steadier on his feet.  Legolas gasped slightly, his stomach turning over in an alarming manner for a moment. 

     "Not goin’ to be sick, are ye?” Eolyn asked, her worry evident in her deep blue eyes. 

    “Nay, lady,” he whispered.  “What is wrong with me?” 

     She began helping him across the room to the tub, explaining, “You’ve been off your feet for almost two weeks, weakened by wounds to both shoulder and side, one of them poisoned, unconscious with fever and blood loss for most of that time…and you ask ‘what is wrong with me?’.  Lad…”

    Legolas laughed shakily, “I believe I understand, my lady.  It is just that I felt well, and I expected to…” 

     “…get right up and go about your business, I know,” Eolyn replied soothingly.  “And ye will, given a day or so with some good food and rest.” 

     They reached the tub, and Eolyn watched the elf blush slightly.  “Raised two boys of my own, Master Legolas.  So tell me, are elves so much different?” 

     She laughed as his blush intensified, and dragged a chair close to him.  “Get undressed then.  I’ll go find ye somethin’ clean to wear.  If ye feel shaky again, for the love of the Valar, sit.  You’d be twice that embarrassed if I had to pick ye up off the floor!” 

     She met his gaze steadily until he nodded.  “All right then.  I’ll be goin’.  Get yourself into the water before it cools.” 

     “Yes, my lady,” Legolas said obediently, earning a rather stern look from Eolyn as she left the room. 

     Legolas quickly shed his clothing, which consisted of only some kind of long nightshirt, and found he did have to sit in the chair for a moment before slowly climbing into the water.  He almost wept in relief as the soothing heat of the bath eased aching muscles and washed away the grimy feeling on his skin.  He leaned his head back against the edge of the tub and in the space of a few minutes began to doze.  The feel of water creeping up his chin woke him with a start. 

     This will not do.  The lady would not be pleased to have to fish a drowned elf from her tub!

      His lips quirked at the silly thought.  Legolas found a cloth and soap on a small table placed near the tub and quickly worked up a generous lather.  After scrubbing his still-tired body, he had just begun washing his hair when Eolyn returned.  She took over, her manner brisk and matter-of-fact, rinsing the soap from his long hair and gently cleaning the newly healed, still tender wound on his back and shoulder. 

     “I used to do this for my boys and husband, before they left,” she murmured. 

     “Where are they now, Mistress?” Legolas asked, sensing a deep sorrow underlying her brisk efficiency.  

     “Well, the boys married over the past two years and have homes of their own close by.  Good girls they chose, too.”  She smiled down at Legolas.  “Two grandbabies already on the way.” 

     He grinned back at her, then asked, “And your husband?” 

     Her smile faded to a mere shadow as she answered, “He was killed at the Black Gate, my lord.” 

     Legolas closed his eyes and whispered, “Many were lost that day.  I am so sorry.” 

     Her manner became brisk again as she rinsed the soap from his shoulder.  “Aye, many were lost…but much was gained, Master Legolas.  My husband fought for our freedom, and even though it cost him his life, I know he did not count it too dear a price to pay.  I raised my children in peace, and my daughter was born right before he left.  She is a comfort to me now.  As are ye, my lord Elf.  A comfort and a wondrous fair sight to behold!  Up ye come…I’ll hold the towel and promise not to look!” 

     “My lady!” Legolas protested in a slightly scandalized voice. 

     She laughed as she grabbed the large towel and shook it out, holding it as a shield for the elf’s modesty.  By the time he had dried off, struggled into the clean nightshirt, and stumbled back to the bed, Legolas was trembling slightly with fatigue.  Eolyn helped him onto the comfortable mattress, placing pillows behind him to help him sit up.  She fetched a comb from the table and handed it to him.  He began combing the tangles from his hair while she straightened the room and began draining the tub. 

     To his extreme dismay, he was only half finished with the task when his arm began shaking.  His hand dropped into his lap, and he sank back against the pillows, too weary and disgusted to continue.  He felt the comb gently removed from his fingers and the mattress sink as someone sat beside him. 

     “Here now, Legolas.  Sit up, lad, and let me finish.” 

     He opened his eyes to find Eolyn gazing down at him.  She helped him upright again and began gently working the comb through his hair.  Another presence sat down on the other side of the bed, startling him.  Aragorn slipped one strong arm behind his back, supporting him further as Eolyn continued to comb and dry his hair. 

     “I must have dozed off,” Legolas murmured. 

     He heard soft chuckles from both of his caretakers, and Aragorn agreed, “You must have.”  Legolas leaned into Aragorn’s shoulder and let sleep claim him once more. 

     Eolyn met the King’s gray eyes above the golden head and whispered, “He’s a dear lad, this one.  Ye take all care with him, my lord.  He’s still fragile, elf or no.” 

     Aragorn helped ease Legolas back onto the pillows and covered him warmly.  “I will, my lady,” he promised. 

     “Will ye be staying, then?” she asked. 

     “Aye,” he said. 

     “Then I’ll bring ye somethin’ to eat, along with his tray.”  At the King’s surprised looked, she smiled.  “Oh, he won’t be sleepin’ too long.  He’s just tired from his first time up and his bath.  Give him an hour and he’ll be wakin’ starved again.  Stay with him, and I’ll have a tray ready by then.”  She smiled at Aragorn before rising and leaving the room quietly.

                                             ~~~*~~~

     The rest of the evening and the next day passed quietly for Legolas.  He slept a great deal and ate even more, to his consternation and the continued amusement of his friends.  He was allowed no visitors that might disturb his rest (by Aragorn’s order), so his friends checked with Eolyn constantly on his condition.  Eolyn and her shy daughter, Laelith, fussed over the elf at every opportunity, to his secret delight.  Not since his mother’s untimely death could he remember being so pleasantly mothered.

     On the third day, after a pleading talk with Aragorn and Eolyn deemed him fit, he ventured outside.  Gimli met him at the door, looking at his friend with what Legolas easily identified as a semi-repentant expression. 

     “Legolas…” the dwarf began in a gruff, argumentative tone. 

     “Peace, Gimli,” Legolas clapped the sturdy shoulder affectionately.  “I was tired.  Any other time I would have realized you were baiting me.” 

     “And are you sufficiently recovered now, Master Elf?” Gimli inquired, his dark eyes sparkling dangerously. 

     “Yes, I believe I am,” Legolas answered. 

     “Good…good.  I am pleased to see a healthy elf again.  Given your newly acquired hobbit-sized appetite, you should be much easier to bait now!” Gimli said gleefully. 

     Legolas stopped, shocked speechless.  Other ears had been listening to this first exchange also, and Eolyn and Aragorn held their collective breaths. 

     “Oh?  Hobbit-sized, Master Dwarf?” the fair voice was soft. 

     Gimli nodded.  “Never thought I would see the day when you would out-eat young Peregrin,” he chortled. 

     Legolas’ gray eyes narrowed slightly.  “And you, of course, have such a dainty way about you at table, I suppose?” he asked. 

     Gimli sputtered.  “Dainty?  A dwarf may be many things, Master Elf, but “dainty” is NOT an accurate description of one of Aule’s children…  I will take that as an insult, elf.”

     “Good,” the elf replied haughtily, “It was meant as one.”  Their voices faded as the two moved away, arguing happily. 

     Aragorn heaved a sigh of relief.  Eolyn laughed with delight.  “Well, I never!  Ye told me how they were with each other, but I could hardly believe it!” 

     “Join me, my lady,” Aragorn said, offering his arm.  “Call your daughter to come with us also.  If Gimli is taking him where I think he is, I want to be there!  And you should not miss it either, I think.” 

     Eolyn called Laelith and they accompanied the King down the street, following behind Gimli and Legolas, who still engaged in a lively debate.  Halfway through town, Eomer and Elfwine joined Aragorn and the ladies.  Soon, a small crowd of interested observers followed a safe distance behind the oblivious elf and dwarf.

     Elfwine tugged on Aragorn’s sleeve and whispered, “Gimli is taking him to the stables, isn’t he?” 

     Aragorn looked down at the excited youngster.  “Yes, Gimli and Aravir have something planned, I believe.” 

     “Where are you taking me, Gimli?” Legolas asked, looking around with interest.  Sharp elven hearing soon picked up the sound of many horses.  He looked down at Gimli.  “To see Arod?” 

     “Aye, Arod and friend,” the dwarf answered mysteriously.  Legolas stared at him, and when no further information seemed forthcoming, shrugged.  A dwarf with a surprise in mind was not a reasonable being, so he did not even attempt to find out who “and friend” was.  Gimli led the curious elf around the back of the stables to the open land beyond the corral. 

     As they passed the fence, Legolas stopped short, staring.  Aravir stood yards away from them still, Arod by his side…and pacing nervously back and forth behind them was the golden mare. 

     “Ai, Gimli!” Legolas breathed, turning incredulous eyes on his friend.  “How…?”  

     Gimli snorted.  “I told she was a girl, and nothing but trouble.  She changed her mind, you daft elf.  She came back…led us to you as a matter of fact…when the orcs still held you captive.” 

     Stunned gray eyes focused on him.  “She led you…?  To me?” he whispered, tears glazing his eyes and threatening to fall. 

     “Aye, lad,” Gimli replied softly. “Maybe she liked your pretty face after all.” 

     Legolas walked slowly towards Arod and Aravir.  Aravir saluted him, murmuring, “My lord.”  Legolas touched his arm gratefully and went to Arod.

     Arod lovingly shoved his nose into Legolas’ chest in greeting.  Slowly now.  She is quite afraid. 

     Legolas stroked the sleek dappled-gray neck, resting his cheek against the warm coat.  Hannon lle, Arod nin.  He hesitated.  Arod… 

     Go now.  All is well with me.  Sometimes your thinking is…  

     Legolas smothered a choked laugh in Arod’s neck and hugged the great horse.  Straightening, he took a deep breath to calm himself and turned to the mare.

     She stood silently now, a living statue of liquid gold and silver.  Legolas approached her slowly and sank into a crouch some yards distant.  She shook her head, and Legolas could feel now the uncertainty and fear in her. 

     Suilad, hiril nin.  I am pleased to see you again.  Thank you for saving my life.

     But I am well now, and they are gone.  You are still here.  Why?  He held his breath.

     I do not know.

     Would you stay then, mir nin?  Would you carry me when I  must travel?  I have need of your strength and companionship, but it must be your choice.  If you should decide to leave, no one will stop you. 

     Must I go from this place?  It has always been my home.

     Yes, but we will return from time to time.  I believe you would grow to like the forest where I live.  And Arod will be there.  You will not be alone.

     The horse stood for a time, her face turned towards the plains she had roamed all her short life.  Finally, she seemed to reach a decision.  Lowering her head, she walked slowly to where he still crouched on the ground.  Legolas waited patiently, his heart pounding as he watched her. 

     In the small crowd gathered a distance behind Aravir, Aragorn also stood with a pounding heart at he watched the scene unfold.  Of all those present, he and Gimli were the most familiar with Legolas’ dilemma about finding a new, acceptable horse to ride.  They both knew how Legolas dreaded giving up Arod.  They both were aware of the elf’s attachment to the mare, although they were not entirely certain of the reason behind it.  Aragorn held his breath as the minutes passed, watching the silent, motionless tableau of golden horse and elf. 

     He saw Gimli shift restlessly and whisper something to Aravir, who shook his head ‘no’ and continued to watch Legolas.  Beside him, Eolyn and her daughter seemed entranced, the woman actually biting her lower lip as if the little pain might help the outcome.  Behind him, Eomer had hoisted Elfwine onto his shoulders so the boy could see over the taller adults in the crowd.   For once, even Elfwine was silent, his quick chatter silenced by the solemn situation. 

     Aragorn closed his eyes briefly, saying a silent prayer to the Valar to grant Legolas this one thing.  The King tensed as the mare walked up to Legolas, snuffling his hair, his ears and clothing, and allowing him to reach up and gently stroke her elegant face and long neck.  Legolas slowly stood, still running his hand over her sun-warmed coat and straightening her silky mane. 

     Aragorn finally found a breath and all around him low, approving murmurs rippled through the crowd like wind ruffling the surface of the river.  The village had welcomed the elf with open arms at their first meeting.  When he had returned injured and unconscious, they had expressed their concern for him in many small ways, and his recovery had been the source of great joy and excitement for all. 

     Now, they stood witness to a special event, and the people of Rohan recognized the gift the mare had just given freely to her new rider…her trust.  The mare continued to accept the elf’s gentle touch, turning her head back to examine him curiously and nibble at his long hair.

     You have changed somehow.  The pain and longing I felt before is gone.  I told you then you were different, and that we might meet again.  I will stay and carry you, if that is your wish.

     It is, mir nin.  I do wish it!  Legolas clamped down on his elation and continued whispering to her softly in Sindarin.  He kept speaking and singing until all fear left her and she rested her head on his shoulder, content to listen to his fair voice. 

     Once she had settled, Legolas turned to lead her back towards the others.  The joy shining from his face caused more than one in the watching crowd to catch their breath, and Eolyn unashamedly wiped glad tears from her eyes. 

     Aravir signaled Aragorn and Eomer, who turned and dispersed the crowd.  Gathering Arod to his side also, Legolas led the horses back toward’s Eolyn’s garden, skirting the edge of the town and avoiding the crowd of men.  Aravir followed closely, ready to offer help if needed. 

     Once in the garden, Legolas spoke to them quietly.  “I will not fence either of you in.  You may graze as you like, and run free if you will.  There is water in the small stream behind the garden.  Only…be cautious.” 

     We will stay close.  She and I have no wish for others to try and claim us.

     Legolas breathed a sigh of relief and felt a sudden weariness weaken his legs.  Arod gave him a gentle nudge in the direction of the house.

     Rest now.  We will be well.  The other one like you will watch over us.  Aravir smiled and nodded.  “Go, my lord.  We will be just fine…they will take good care of me!” 

     Legolas bid them farewell and walked slowly into the house.  Aragorn met him at the door with a tankard of cider and a bowl of soup.  Eolyn pulled a chair out at the table and motioned him to sit.  He stumbled slightly, and found Gimli at his side, helping him to the chair. 

     “Of all the addle-brained elves!  Sit here and do not move until you have eaten something!” the dwarf growled. 

     He sank down, thankful for perceptive friends as he gratefully drank the cool liquid and ate the thick soup.  Silence reigned for a time until he raised his head to look at them and asked, “Is she not beautiful?” 

     All burst out laughing.  “A fair lass for a fair elven lord, my lad,” Eolyn replied.  “Now eat, and then it’s off to bed with ye.”

     Aragorn raised his hand to silence his friend when he started to argue.  “No, Legolas.  You are looking positively transparent.  Rest for a while, and then you may rejoin them in the garden.  I have told everyone else we will see them tonight, so you will need some rest before they descend on you.”

     “Oh, I suppose you are right,” Legolas complained.  “You generally are.”  He finished his meal, bowed to Eolyn, and made a rude gesture to Aragorn and Gimli before walking carefully to his room.  Crawling into the bed, he was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

                                            ~~~*~~~

     Legolas awakened to the sound of laughter and singing outside his window.  Quickly rising, he changed into fresh clothing and straightened his sleep-tousled hair.  Walking down the hall, he followed the voices to the garden.  There he saw Aragorn speaking with Eomer, while Elfwine stood before Arod, feeding him an apple as he told the horse about his day.  Others gathered about, talking and laughing.  It looked to be the entire party that had accompanied them from Edoras on the hunt.

     The mare stood some distance away, watching the whole scene warily.  Eolyn motioned him to join the group as she and several village women served the evening meal, bringing large plates of roasted meat and vegetables, along with long loaves of fresh bread.  The guests settled on bright quilts thrown upon the grass, talking and eating and watching the elf and his new horse. 

     “What will you call her?” asked Ranalf, admiring the long, clean lines of the mare and her elegant carriage. 

     Legolas shrugged.  “I am not exactly sure as of yet,” he answered.  “A suitable name has not yet presented itself.  But I will know when the time comes.”

     Legolas had just finished eating when Eomer asked, “What happened while you slept, Legolas?  You were weeping a good portion of the time.”  Legolas’ eyes widened at the statement.  Weeping?  The others turned inquisitive eyes on him, obviously expecting an answer.

     Drawing a deep breath, Legolas replied slowly, “I had a most wondrous experience, Eomer.  You might call it a dream.  It was, and then again, it was not.  I am not certain I have the words to explain it to you, or that any of you would believe me.  I know in my heart, though, it really happened for because of it I have a peace about the sea that I have not experienced since I heard the gulls at Pelargir.”  He lifted his face to gaze at the first stars appearing overhead in the darkening sky. 

     Aragorn placed a supportive hand on the elf’s shoulder.  Legolas turned to look at him as he said softly, “You may tell us whenever you find those words, mellon nin, and know that we will believe you.”   Then he deftly turned the conversation to other topics, much to Legolas’ relief.

     His eyes returned to the night sky and he listened while the others joked and laughed.  Getting up, he excused himself from the group and moved away to the edge of the light from the lanterns placed around the yard. 

     He stopped by one of the trees, and stood quietly.  The voices of the men still distracted and he made his way a short distance outside the circle of light to a grassy knoll.  Sinking to the ground, he wrapped his arms about his knees and shut his eyes. 

     A soft breeze laden with the scent of new grass and the last blossoms of summer lifted his hair, cooling and soothing as it passed.  He could hear the rustle of the tall grasses, the drone of insects and the chorus of creaks and croaks coming from the small frogs that lived on the banks of the stream. He had only been sitting a short time when he felt someone sit beside him, another comforting, familiar presence. 

     Estel.

     “What is it, my friend?” Aragorn asked quietly.

     “I was listening to the song of the world, Estel,” Legolas whispered.  “I had not realized I had grown so conflicted lately that to hear it hurt me.  Now I begin to understand that it played a part in why the sea’s call troubled me so.  She told me that once I truly listened, I might at last understand.  She was right.”

     Aragorn placed his hand on Legolas’ shoulder.  “Who, Legolas?”

     The elf turned starlit eyes to him and replied, “Nienna.”

     Aragorn drew a sharp breath.  “Nienna?  You saw her?  Spoke to her?  How…?”  

     Legolas laughed softly.  “You will find this hard to believe, my friend.”

     “Yet there is a change in you, Legolas.  I have seen it in your eyes…I hear it now in your voice,” he said. “How could I not believe?”

     Legolas closed his eyes again.  “Perhaps later I will explain the details.  Now, I hear the song of the world and I know it is trying to tell me something, if only I listen closely enough.” 

     Aragorn smiled, and said, “Then listen and learn, mellon nin.  I will keep you safe.”  His friend nodded, and opened himself even more to the music.

 The song, as familiar to him as breathing, resonated within until his heart beat in rhythm with it.  But something was different this time. 

     He quickly immersed himself deeper in the music that was Arda Marred.  It still seemed muddled…but wait…perhaps muddled was the wrong word…He hummed a counter melody along with it, one he had heard beside the sea in Aman.  The blending of the two created a clarity of sound that he had never heard before.  Tears burned his eyes. 

     So…all of a part.  This is one of the lessons I am to apply while I remain on Ennor.  Both songs are part of the Great Song…I knew that, but did not realize that through my own song, I could bring them into harmony.

     In his mind, he could hear the song of Aman…the song of the great oak, the stream, Este’s song of healing rest, and the sea.  He began to sing softly of wide plains and deep forests, cleansing rain and sheltering friendship, letting the two songs intertwine and guide his own. 

     Arod and the mare moved over beside him, drawn by the beauty of the haunting melody.  The men in the garden gradually quieted as the song drifted towards them.

     Legolas continued to sing, feeling a joy well inside as this new and unexpected song took shape. The music coming from within me is new and different from any I have ever sung before.   

     Aragorn watched Legolas sing, his fair face lifted to the stars, and felt deep relief and gratitude fill his heart. The core of icy fear he had felt since the day they found Legolas unconscious from the sea-longing slowly began to melt.  He, too, raised his eyes to the stars, offering his own silent praise and thank you to the source of his friend’s newfound peace.  And Legolas continued to sing well into the night. 

     When he finally stopped, the others had already left, and only Aragorn remained.  They spoke no words…none were needed.  Aragorn helped Legolas to his feet and the two friends walked back to the house.  Legolas lay in bed long after Aragorn left, pondering what had happened, and wondering if it would again.  Slipping gently into sleep, he whispered, “I hope so.”

                                            ~~~*~~~

     For the next few days, he spent long hours in Eolyn’s garden, his eyes intensely focused yet unseeing, as he sang softly to himself in an effort to recapture the song of that night.  Sometimes Aragorn would silently join him, a needed support and comfort.

     At night, he sat under the star-studded sky of Rohan and sang songs praising Elbereth and Eru Iluvatar.  Eventually his song would change, becoming melodies he remembered from his dream combined with the song of Arda present, both interweaving in glorious harmony.  But it was never the same as that first night.  In fact, he quickly found the song changed every time he sang it, though it retained its basic melody.

     Eolyn and Laelith would sit together on the back porch of their home when the chores were finished, listening to him sing.  “Mama, did ever ye hear anything so sweet?” the girl would ask, leaning her head on her mother’s shoulder. 

     “Nay, child.  Like as not, we ne’er will again.”  Eolyn looked at her daughter and smiled.  “I heard him teaching you one of those lay songs this mornin’.  Mayhap we’ll keep some of his music with us when he leaves after all.” 

     Laelith smiled.  “I hope so.”

                                             ~~~*~~~

     Eomer finally sought out Legolas one bright sunny morning and found him slowly walking the mare, perched on her back and guiding her with only hands and voice.  He watched in amazement.  He had not thought the elf would attempt to accustom her to his weight so soon. 

     When Legolas saw him waiting, he leaped gracefully from her back.  Throwing one arm across her neck, he walked her over to where Arod was grazing and left her there with a whispered word and a gentle stroke to her forehead.

     As he approached, Legolas smiled to see Eomer shaking his head, his eyes still wide with wonder.

     “How do you do that, Legolas?” the King asked.  “Are you certain you will not move to Rohan and work with Ranalf in my stables?”  The two both laughed at Eomer’s standard joking question, though Legolas sensed he was much more serious this time. 

     “I came to ask if you thought you were well enough to travel,” Eomer explained.  “It is time we returned to Edoras.”

     “Whenever you are ready to leave, Eomer,” Legolas assured him.  “I am fully recovered.  I will still need to ride Storm, if possible and work with the mare as we travel, for as of yet she is not ready to carry me on a prolonged journey.”

     Eomer nodded.  “That would be fine.  I will make plans to leave then in two days.”  He gripped the elf’s shoulder in farewell and walked away, already deep in thoughts of departure. 

     Legolas walked over to the two horses.  “Soon we leave and travel to the city of Edoras.  After a short rest, we will return home.”  Arod tossed his mane, his excitement palpable.  The mare turned her face into Legolas’ chest, and the elf stroked her neck comfortingly. 

     “You will like Ithilien, mir nin,” he whispered.  “You will see.  And if things go as expected, I already have another trip in mind for us both!  There is one thing yet I must do to complete this journey.”

TRANSLATIONS:

Arod nin - my Arod

mellon nin - my friend

hiril nin - my lady

suilad - hello (greetings)

mir nin - my treasure (jewel)

hannon lle - thank you