Title: Go North ch2

Author: sheraiah

Warnings: Violence, character death (canon and past tense), AU

Author Note: As many have realized, Peter Jackson, et all have played with the timeline in LOTR, thus throwing off the timeline in The Hobbit as well. I have decided to run with this deviation.

Ooo

Life amongst the Dunedain was vastly different than anything Legolas had previously experienced. In the course of traveling to the Shire with the group he had joined, he had come to realize exactly how sheltered his life had been. Even on patrol in the furthest edges of his father's realm, his life had not been as difficult as that of the rangers he traveled with. Swallowing his pride, he admitted his lack of knowledge and humbly requested to be taught in the areas in which his experience was lacking. His request seemed to shock the two elder rangers, but they agreed to teach him and he set to his lessons with a single-minded intensity that soon won even the stern Dirhael over.

“You know, you don't have to do everything perfectly, Taurion,” Halbarad jibed good-naturedly. The Men had quickly discovered that Legolas had a sense of humor lurking just beneath his serene mask and that it took very little to make it surface.

“I wish to do the best that I am able.” Legolas/Taurion shrugged in typical elaborate elven fashion. “I have always been so.” He and Halbarad were preparing the fire pit and laying the kindling, taking their turn at the task as the Men were wont to do. He got to fire going and sat back, looking around to see what else yet needed to be done. Seeing nothing immediately, he addressed Durion, the third member of their group. “What else may I assist with?”

“Here, peel and slice these roots for me.” Durion handed him several of the roots. “I'm going to stew the rabbits you brought down earlier. They're a bit on the thin side, stewing them will make the meat go further.” Legolas pulled a small knife from its hidden sheath in the top of his boot and turned one of the roots over in his hand, considering how best to go about peeling it. Durion chuckled, taking both root and knife from him long enough to show him the easiest way to peel before handing it back. He knew now, after several days traveling with the elf, that Legolas was a quick study and seldom needed to be shown more than once. The elf set to peeling the roots with the same determination that he did everything else. Durion chuckled again. “You go about all of this as if you expect to be tested.”

“Am I not being tested? Besides, out here mistakes cost lives,” Legolas countered, none of his humor in evidence. “If I am to be of use to you, I must learn and learn well.”

“You must have had some hard taskmasters during your training at home,” Halbarad commented.

“So I did,” Legolas agreed readily. “Not the least of which was my Adar. However, it was a different kind of training to what you are giving me. I have never had to cook or dig privy pits. I was always my patrol's scout. We did not trade jobs as you do. I believe your way is the better one, in terms of overall survival knowledge. I can forage enough to keep myself alive for an extended period of time but I was never prepared to live for weeks and months away from my kin or basic supplies. I was never expected to have to do so. If for no other reason than this, I am glad that I am here.”

“Taurion, may I ask you something? You can refuse to answer if you wish,” Dirhael met his eyes steadily. The Man was not lacking in confidence. Few even among his father's council would meet either his eyes or Thranduil's for very long.

“Ask what you wish,” the elf replied quietly.

“You're noble-born, aren't you? You've the look of a Sindar about you, even if you don't have the build.” Legolas gave him a brief, startled look and Dirhael smiled grimly. “I've spent a fair amount of time in Rivendell. Enough to know that elves aren't all of a piece.”

“True enough,” Legolas agreed. “Yes, I am. My Adar is Sindar. My mother was Silvan.” Dirhael nodded.

“That explains rather a lot.” Legolas flashed a grin at him.

“More than you know, Friend Dirhael.”

ooo

The Angle was not as Legolas had expected. He had thought it would be little more than a fortified village, but it was far larger than he had anticipated. And it was far better fortified than he had thought it would be. He mentally chided himself. He should know better by now than to underestimate his companions' kindred. Traveling with Durion, Dirhael and Halbarad had taught him that many of his preconceived ideas of Men were as erroneous as much of what he had been taught about dwarves. He kept his eyes open and his mouth shut, preferring to let Dirhael handle any questions and introductions,

He was unsurprised to find out that Dirhael was the acting chieftain. The heir to the role, he found out, was still very young and was still undergoing training. He gathered that the young one's training was going well, however, from random comments that were made in his hearing. Dirhael was greeted by a woman he assumed to be his wife and what looked to be a daughter and granddaughter. He stood for a moment, at a bit of a loss as to what to do next until Halbarad hailed him. The young Man stood with his family, who had come out to greet him.

“Taurion, come meet my parents!” Legolas made his way over to the young Man, feeling more unsure of himself than he had since he came of age. He responded to Halbarad's parents' greeting diffidently, answering their questions as best he could without giving his identity away.

“Have you a place to stay, Master Taurion?” Areliel, Halbarad's mother asked. “You are welcome in our home and at our table.”

“Indeed you are,” Halbarad's father, Halboron affirmed. “Dirhael said that Master Elrond sent you to us.”

“My lord king sent me. Master Elrond pointed me in the correct direction and gave me the means to prove my intentions,” Legolas corrected mildly. “For which I will always be grateful.” He gave Areliel a shy smile. “I would not impose on you, Mistress Areliel. The loft of a barn is good enough for the likes of me.”

“Nonsense! The loft opposite where Halbarad sleeps is vacant since our daughter married. You're welcome to use it. And you'll sup with us.”

“I am honored, thank you.” He gave her the slight, respectful bow that was considered good manners among his people, it would have to suffice until he learned what the proper response might be according to Dunedain custom. Apparently, his response was acceptable because both Halboron and Areliel smiled broadly and beckoned him along with them as they left for their home, Halbarad in tow.

“Taurion!” Dirhael called after him. He paused, turning to the Man. “Come see me at the council house after you have your dinner and we'll decide what to best do with you.” He nodded, giving the same bow to Dirhael that he had to Halbarad's parents and quickened his pace to catch up to them.

Ooo

“He's a shy one, is Taurion,” Areliel commented. “Nice manners, but not a lot to say.”

“He listens more than he talks, but he's got some good stories once he gets to know you,” Halbarad said, munching on a slice of apple. “Dirhael thinks he's fairly young for an elf. I like him. He doesn't shirk. Pitches in to do whatever needs doing, whether he knows how or not, and he'll ask how if he doesn't know.”

“There's a lot to be said for listening rather than talking,” Halboron put in, stirring the coals before settling the large kettle over them. “Many never learn that lesson.”

“Well, he's the best with a bow that I've ever seen, including the sons of Elrond. I asked him to give me some pointers when he has time,” Halbarad said, finishing his apple and stretching contentedly.

“That may well be what Dirhael assigns him. We're not bad hands with our bows, but from what I've heard, there are none better than the elves of Mirkwood. We could all benefit from his knowledge and experience.”

ooo

“I'm acting chieftain only, you understand. Only until our true chieftain is old enough and experienced enough to take on the role. He's on patrol right now, and will be for awhile yet, or I'd ask him what he makes of you. As it stands, you've done well in spite of your limited experience. You're definitely the best with a bow that I've seen, so I think we'll start there: having you teach the next group coming up. You'll also patrol when needed, stand guard when needed, and generally help out as you've been doing. Acceptable?”

“That is more than acceptable, thank you. I shall do my best, as always,” Legolas said gravely.

“Dirhael, Master Elrond did not just advise me on which direction to travel. He also advised me that I must carefully guard certain information about myself. You are acting chieftain, you need to know who I truly am. As for anyone else, the less they know, the less they can be made to tell.”

“Ah. I wondered. You are King Thranduil's son, are you not?”

“Yes. I am Legolas Thranduilion.” Legolas smiled wryly, “How long have you suspected?”

“Almost from the first. Kings don't generally take that much of an interest in archers, even archers of noble birth. I also know of your relation to Master Elrond's lady wife. It makes sense that he would vouch for you.”

“My lord father did send me to you. He was acquainted with your late chieftain, Arathorn. He tells me that Arathorn was a good man. Such praise is rare for my lord father.”

“Arathorn told me once that King Thranduil knew the value of being underestimated. So, I think, does his son.”

“Not entirely,” Legolas replied with a short laugh. “I was not dissembling when I asked to be taught.”

“Nay, I know you weren't. You've been sheltered more than you should have been, even for an elven prince. Judging by what Arathorn said of your father, I'd be willing to bet that's at least half the reason he sent you here. I'm not going to voice my opinion on the other half. Master Elrond respects and trusts both you and your father and he's never yet been wrong. That's enough for me. Stay with Halboron for now. We'll sort out your living arrangements later.” Recognizing dismissal when he heard it, Legolas merely rose and bowed before seeing himself out and heading back to Halboron's home.

Upon arriving there, he stood for a moment, settling himself before opening the door. Areliel looked up from the garment she was mending with a smile. Halboron was lifting the kettle from its place over the coals and pouring the now steaming water within it into a smaller container. The scent of dried herbs and fruit met his nose then and he realized that it was some sort of tea that Halboron was brewing. Halbarad sat on a stool by the fire, carving a piece of wood. He grinned at Legolas when the elf came in and turned his attention back to his task.

“Dirhael get you sorted out?” Halboron asked, settling back into his chair while the tea brewed.

“I believe so, “ Legolas replied. “I am to provide archery instruction, aid on patrols, and stand guard among other tasks.”

“We'll keep you busy,” Halboron said with a chuckle. “Always more to do than there are hands to do it.”

“Such seems to be the case in every realm,” the elf agreed with good humor. “What are you brewing?”

“A type of tea that I brought back from the Shire. Hobbits are especially good at food and drink.”

“So I noted while we were there,” Legolas said with a chuckle. “Halbarad introduced me to their seed cakes.”

“Well, we haven't any seed cakes but we have the tea and some apples,” Areliel stated with a smile, handing him a plate of apples slices. He returned the smile, accepting the plate and thanking her. Halboron handed him a mug of the tea with a dollop of honey added to it. Legolas sank down to sit tailor fashion beside the hearth, balancing his plate on his knee. Areiel made to protest but he shook his head, smiling.

“Nay, Mistress Areliel. I am comfortable here. Do not bestir yourself.”

They passed the next hour in quiet conversation until Halboron and Halbarad went to see to the animals. Legolas elected to help Areliel clean up from their tea and apples, despite her protests that he need not.

“Elves see such things differently than Men do. Among my people, males may cook and clean and females may fight and guard. Gender matters less than ability.” Legolas said, drying a dish and handing it to Areliel. “As I am yet unwed, being able to do all of those tasks will serve me in good stead.”

“Halbarad told us that you approach everything as if you are being tested on the results. Is that just you, or is that common among your folk?”

“That is just me, Mistress Areliel,” he replied with a laugh. “I have always been so.” He dried the last dish and handed it to her. “What else may I assist you with?”

“I think that's it unless you wish to learn how to repair my son's clothing,” she replied, chuckling, as she took her chair by the fire once more and picked up the garment she was repairing.

“Thankfully, that is something I am already well versed in,” Legolas said, resuming his place by the fire and picking up his quiver. He began sorting his arrows, separating those that were sound from those in need of repair. Once sorted, he fished his repair kit out of his pack and set to the repairs, singing softly as he did so. Halbarad and Halboron returned a few minutes later, the younger man settling next to Legolas.

“Will it bother you if I watch you do that, Taurion?”

“Not at all. If you wish, I will teach you how I do this. Your kindred may do it differently.”

“A bit, I think. Our arrows look different, anyway.” He accepted an arrow from Legolas and the elf began to explain each step as he did it, slowly and patiently walking Halbarad through each task. Halboron looked on with interest from his chair. Once the arrows were repaired to Legolas' satisfaction, the elf stowed them back in his quiver and returned his kit to his pack.

“About time to head to bed. Morning comes early,” Halboron said, standing and stretching. Halbarad rose and kissed his mother's cheek before heading to the ladder to the loft. Legolas rose as well, shouldering his pack and quiver and bade his hosts good night before following Halbarad.

Ooo

“Through that curtain, Taurion. Here's a lantern if you need one.” Halbarad lit the lantern and handed it to Legolas before lighting one for himself. “Good night.”

“Thank you. Good night,” Legolas replied, accepting the lantern, though he truly did not need it, and lifting the curtain aside so he could pass through the doorway. The room was small, occupied by only a bed, a small chest at the foot of the bed and a stand that held a pitcher and wash basin. There was a window in the slanted roof, he was relieved to note. Placing his belongings next to the chest and the lantern on the wash stand, he crossed to the window, having to stoop as he neared it. The latch was simple, and in good repair. He opened the window and looked out, grinning when he realized that he could easily access the roof. He ducked into the room again long enough to remove his boots and tunic before exiting out onto the roof in his shirt and breeches.

Settling himself comfortably, he gazed up at the stars with a sigh. It had been an eventful day and while he was very grateful for the welcome and hospitality given him, he was glad to have some time to himself. He allowed himself, for the first time in several days, to wonder how his father and Tauriel were doing. He fervently hoped that Tauriel would decide to remain. Thranduil had said that he would help her in any way he could, but that the decision was ultimately hers. He had remained largely because he had had Legolas to raise and a kingdom to care for. Tauriel had no blood family left to her, no one but Thranduil and Legolas. His father had made it plain that having so few ties would make it harder for Tauriel. Legolas felt a stab of guilt at his departure, but Thranduil had told him bluntly that there was little he could do for Tauriel. If she faded, his presence would make little difference. Intellectually, he knew his father was right. He sighed. It would be best if he slept rather than gazed at the stars all night. It had been long enough since he had truly slept that he would suffer if he did not. Reluctantly, he climbed back through the window and settled into the bed, shifting until he felt comfortable enough to drift into reverie.

Ooo

Legolas settled into his routine at the Angle with an ease that surprised even him. Teaching archery brought him a satisfaction he never would have expected, and with it came a small measure of peace. He still worried for Tauriel and his father, but he found that he was able to put his worry in the back of his mind while attending to his new duties.

True to his word, Dirhael did address Legolas' living arrangements a week into his sojourn at the settlement. Unmarried males among the Dunedain either stayed with their parents until they built their own lodgings either before beginning courtship of a potential mate or before wedding an intended mate or until they felt the need to be on their own, the latter being the rarer of the two. Once on their own, they had the option of continuing to take meals with their families or, if they so chose or if they had no families, food was always available at the council house. The widows among the Dunedain, and there were many of these to Legolas' dismay, took turns preparing communal meals in exchange for the unmarried males' assistance with chores that their late spouses would have performed. It was a very effective system, and not unlike something Thranduil had set up following his return from the Last Alliance.

The elf, not wishing to be a burden to Halboron and his family, elected to move into an unoccupied bachelor's home, the builder of which had not returned from patrol some months before. He still occasionally took meals with Halboron's family, and he always brought something to the table when he did so, but he also willingly pitched to assist the community's widows as well.

The widow to whom he was assigned was a woman with one grown son who was frequently out on patrol and whose husband had died many years before. The widows among the Dunedian, Legolas discovered, were permitted to remarry as was common among other groups of Men but only about half of them did so. He speculated that it was their heritage that made so many of them reluctant to remarry, but he did not wish to be rude and ask. It was several days later that he discovered that the widow he was assigned to was the elder of Dirhael's two daughters, Gilraen.

Ooo

“Good morning, my lady,” Legolas greeted Gilraen as she exited her house. He was stacking the firewood he had just chopped under the over hang next to her front door.

“Good morning, Taurion. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Mistress Areliel sent Halbarad over with a basket this morning. I have been well cared for.” He grinned at her.

“Hmm, it's those dimples of yours. No sane woman could resist,” she teased. He laughed and handed her a sack.

“Roots and some herbs for you, my lady. I thought you might be able to use them.”

“And so I can, Ah, you brought me athelas! My son will appreciate that when he returns.” She set the bag inside the door and picked up her broom. He wisely moved to the other end of the woodpile, giving her room to work.

“Your son is a healer?”

“Among other things, yes. Estel has many talents, not the least of which has always been turning his mother's hair white with his antics,” she answered, her love for her son evident in her tone.

“So my father has always said of me,” Legolas said, chuckling. “My mother, I think, might well have been right alongside me. She was a Wood Elf, after all, and was much younger than my father.”

“Do you remember her well?” He shook his head.

“Very little, I am afraid. I was very young when she died, only just beginning to walk and talk. I remember small things, like a lullaby she would sing to me, but not much more.” He gave her a sad, sweet smile. “My father has been both parents to me for almost as long as I can recall.”

“Well, I think he did a fine job of it,” she said, reaching out and patting his arm. “Do you have patrol today?”

“Yes. I am to meet Halboron and Durion at the council house as soon as I am finished here.” He stacked the last of the wood as he spoke. "Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?”

“No, I think I can manage from here. Thank you, Taurion. I appreciate all your help.”

“I am honored, my lady.” She grinned and shook her head.

“I think you must break hearts throughout the Greenwood and Rivendell, Master Taurion.” Her grin told him she was teasing him again and he laughed.

“Not that I am aware of, my lady. I am young, as elves go. Most of the maidens I know used to help care for me when I was a child. I find that it rather limits such affections when the available maidens used to be among those who changed one's baby clouts.” He grinned at the laughter that erupted from her and bade her farewell.

Ooo

Legolas made his way down to the stream, dirty bowls, spoons and the cook pot in his hands. He bent to his task, his senses trained on his surroundings. They had seen evidence of orc activity in the last few days and he did not wish to be caught unawares. Making short work of the dishes, he rose and gathered them up, heading back towards the camp. As he did so, the birds and insects suddenly fell silent and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He froze, eyes searching the brush around him and nostrils flaring. He could neither smell nor see anything, but he was certain that orcs were nearby. Silently, he crouched and began to quicken his pace. The feeling of alarm lessened the closer he got to camp, for which he was grateful as it likely meant that the orcs were unaware of the presence of the Dunedain. Gaining the camp, he quickly kicked dirt over the fire, extinguishing it. Halboron stood, hand on his sword hilt.

“Orcs,” Legolas hissed, keeping his voice low enough not to be heard outside the camp. “I do not think they know we are here yet, but they will soon.”

“How many?” Halboron asked, quickly packing the dishes and rolling both his and Durion's bedrolls.

“I know not. I sensed their presence but have not yet seen them. They may be across the stream. I hope so.”

“Durion went to scout. I hope he doesn't run into them.” Both their heads turned as a twig snapped just outside the camp. Legolas had an arrow notched and aimed before the sound faded. A bird call that was not made by a bird sounded and Legolas lowered his arrow as Durion emerged from behind a small tree.

“Orcs. About twenty of them that I saw, camped across the stream and getting ready to head this way,” Durion said tersely.

“We aren't in a good place to fight off twenty,” Halboron said. “Better to head to the East. If we're lucky, we'll be able to circle around behind them and start picking them off when they go to ground for the day.”

“They will pick up our scent, if they have not already,” Legolas pointed out. “It might be wiser for me to lay a false trail and lead them off.”

“What are you going to do, piss on trees for the next couple of leagues?” Durion snorted. “That might work.”

“It has proven effective in the past,” Legolas replied with a smirk. “Whatever we do, we must do soon.”

“All right. Taurion, you lay that trail. Halboron and I will head for that abandoned farm we passed on the way out here. We meet back up there. Be careful, Taurion. I don't want to have to explain to a pissed off elven father how I let his son get his ass shot full of orc arrows while he was pissing on trees.” Legolas gave an amused snort and nodded. The men gathered their gear and headed off. As soon as he was certain they were gone, Legolas began laying the false trail.

Ooo

The orcs were close enough that he could smell them when Legolas began to circle around to meet up with his Dunedain companions. He had played cat and mouse with the foul creatures for the better part of the night. It was now less than two hours before sunrise. He fervently hoped that their ruse had been successful.

Making use of the trees that he had led the orcs into, Legolas fairly flew over their heads as only one raised as a Wood Elf could. Getting clear of their scouts, he reached the edge of the wooded area and dropped soundlessly to the ground. He ran lightly over the grass, changing direction every so often just in case he was followed.

Just as the sun cleared the tops of the hills, he neared the farm. The homestead's roof had partially fallen in, but it still made for better shelter than the bough of a tree in the Men's opinions if not in Legolas'. He approached silently, listening for any sign that there had been trouble. He heard nothing so he went to the doorway and peered cautiously around it. Halboron was sitting propped up on the remains of the bed, head leaning against the wall, a rough bandage wrapped around his upper thigh. There was no sign of Durion. Quickly ascertaining that there were no orcs or other enemies around, Legolas approached Halboron. The Man's eyes snapped open as soon as the elf touched him, but Legolas had taken care to disarm him.

“Taurion! Durion is dead. I had to leave him, about three leagues back. The orcs split into two groups.” Legolas grimaced, pushing his grief for the Man who had become a friend to the back of his mind.

“You had no choice, Halboron. He knows that. We all know the risk we take. When were you injured?” With practiced hands, the elf unwrapped the wound, checking it and frowning at what he saw.

“At the same time they killed Durion. It was an ambush.”

“Then you are fortunate that you made it here. I need to tend your wound and then we need to put some more distance between us and those orcs. Where is the nearest town or Ranger outpost?”He grabbed his water skin, taking the calculated risk that he would be able to find more water before they ran out. He cleansed the wound, packed it with healing herbs and stitched it before rebandaging it.

“Ten leagues East in the hills. It will not be easy. You should leave me.” Legolas spat the vilest oath he knew.

“Do not suggest that to me again, ever. I will carry you if I must.”

“Taurion,...”

“No.” Quickly, he sorted through their belongings, taking only what could be carried easily, only the bare necessities. “Come,” he said, getting his shoulder under Halboron's arm. “We must leave now.”

TBC