Chapter 11 - The Gorge of Mirkwood

This is going to be really sweet, you bastard. Looks like you’re about to puke with fear. Oh, this is going to be so sweet. My very tasty dish of revenge eaten entirely cold. Sweet!

Legolas tightened his grip on the good doctor’s arm as he frog-marched him towards the deepest depths of Taur-E-Ndaedelos. Mirkwood be damned, my good doctor. That’s what you mortals call my home. Welcome, good doctor, to my forest of great fear!

"Where are you taking me? I demand an answer!"

Demand? That’s rich. Your days of demanding are over. You ripped my guts open to advance your career. Are you frightened? Eru, I hope so. I sure as udûn was.

Legolas felt the Galadhrim’s presence near him. His keen eyes sought them in the clearing near the edge of the small but deep gorge he had found so many years ago.  He’d known it would be useful one day, so very useful.

Rúmil and Orophin were now beside him. Legolas’ eyes sought Haldir.

The grim-faced March Warden suddenly appeared from the depths of the shadows of the trees that surrounded the glade. An obviously terrified mortal was with him and tightly held by the elf’s powerful hands. Haldir loosed the gag at the man’s mouth.

Legolas watched as his companion from the Halls of Mandos dragged the man closer. The mortal was putting up a struggle, but he was certainly no match for an elven warrior.

"Who in udûn is that, Haldir? This was not in the Plan."

"Ah, my good friend, have you not ever said to me that I must be more flexible? I am now flexing." His eyes beheld his captive without pity.

"Good prince, may I introduce to you LH. This foul creature did defile the Lady Tingalen’s body and then did abandon her to her fate."

Never had Legolas seen such fury on an elven face. "He has defiled the daughter of Lord Celeborn and my Lady! For this, he will meet his death!"

The terrified fundraiser looked as if he might expire from sheer fright on the spot, but that was his problem thought Legolas.

I am not messing with Haldir in this kind of mood. No way. I’m not even going to ask when he found time to go capture this whelp. Courteous they may be and sometimes annoying but give me two really ticked-off Galadhrim, and you can keep your ten Imladrians.

He wants to defend the honor of his Lord and Lady’s daughter, fine by this elf! Besides, she’s going to be my sister-in-law soon, so that gives him the right to demand my assistance in defending her honor I suppose. Ai, Eru! I’d forgotten how interesting life could be in this forest.

"Your words have I heard, Haldir. It shall be as you wish. Have patience. Rúmil, hold this spawn of udûn for me!"

Legolas stalked gracefully in a slow-moving circle around the frightened doctor, a ritual dance of his fury. He smiled coldly at the doctor and his eyes never left the terrified face.

"I see you do not remember me, JV. Ah, well! That is no doubt to be expected." Legolas’ soft voice was deadly.

"After all, who looks at the faces of those they sacrifice to their careers?" Legolas drew his tunic from his body and stood before JV.

In the moonlight of Taur-E-Ndaedelos, JV saw the deep scars of careless incisions still strongly visible on the elf’s slender torso. "Allow me to introduce you to Telerius galadh."

The elf smiled courteously at the doctor. His beautiful scarred body seemed to glow in the forest’s dim light. "By the way, my name is Legolas Thranduilion, should you at be at all interested."

"You can’t be. You were dead. We’re always very careful about that. The publicity otherwise would be hell."

"Aye, I was most certainly dead, but my fëa lingered and saw what you did to the body that had cherished it for thousands of years. Your mistake, good doctor, was to underestimate this simple wood-elf."

He grasped the doctor back from Rúmil and began to drag him towards the deep gorge.  Haldir did the same with the fundraiser. Both men were screaming, but there was no one to hear them who cared.

Legolas laughed at the pleadings of the two men. "You want our mercy? I think not. The journey from Mandos was too far for us to turn back now. Besides, there is a lady here that I wish you to meet. Haldir?"

The tall elf who had become Legolas companion on this strange journey nodded grimly.

"Ah, gentlemen, be introduced by Legolas Thranduilion to Shelob’s Daughter!"

With that, the two elves pushed the men into the abyss.

*****

The clicking sounds of the feeding spider had grown softer and finally ended. Legolas looked up at the moon and felt its beauty.

Haldir and he were alone now as they had been in Mandos. They sat in the quiet companionship of all they had shared.

"Legolas, think you we should tell Tingalen and thy brother of LH?"

Legolas breathed in the sweet night air of his forest home. It was better than wine.

"Nay, Haldir, perhaps not. My brother and his Lady stand before the dawn of their new life together. Better that their thoughts should not dwell upon such spawn of udûn that are better gone from Arda."

Legolas stood up gracefully and extended his hand to help his friend rise. Together, they took one last look at the now silent gorge. Legolas placed his hand upon his heart and bowed low to its darkness.

"Hiro hyn hîdh ab ‘wanath," breathed Legolas. Then, he laughed and laughed, and Haldir joined him.

"Haldir?" Legolas wiped the tears of laughter from his beautiful eyes.

"Aye, Legolas?"

"Next stop New Zealand?"

"Aye, Legolas."

With their arms around each other’s shoulders, the warriors of the Mad Witch then strode from the forest of great fear.

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Author’s note:

Taur E-Ndaedelos: Sindarin for "Forest of Great Fear", also known as Mirkwood, the Wood, the Great Wood, Eryn Lasgalen (Sindarin for "Wood of Green Leaves") and, originally, Greenwood the Great.

Thranduilion:  Son of Thranduil.

Eru: Another name for Ilúvatar. Essentially and very simplified, the elven deity.

Fëa (plural: fëar): Quenya. Spirit, soul.

Udûn: Sindarin for "un-West", possibly akin to "hell"

Shelob: A Great Spider. She and her offspring dwelt in Mirkwood and in the Ephel Dúath. Sam blinded and stabbed Shelob herself at Cirith Ungol. She probably starved to death because she could no longer hunt. But, her offspring?

Hiro hyn hîdh ab ‘wanath:  Sindarin. "May they find peace after death."