Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: The History of Legolas - The Last Green Leaf (#1471)
Author: Vendie
Chapters: 20

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: Third in the History of Legolas series.
Legolas, having survived the attack that killed his mother, learns how to cope with an over-protective father and the lack of a mother as he grows into maturity.
Published: 27 Dec 2004
Updated: 15 Nov 2009
Warnings: 
Type: General
Characters: Thranduil, Legolas, Several OCs


Chapter 1 - Coming of Age

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie\r\n\r\n

Author’s Note: First off, The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 
This is, obviously, a sequel to The History of Legolas, parts one and two. It comes highly recommended that you read those first, otherwise you might suffer from a lot of confusion. 
Note upon edit: I apologize for the age confusion with Legolas. I was aware that elves were fully-grown at the age of fifty, but somehow in my brain, I added an extra zero and ended up thinking it was five-hundred (I am dyslexic. And proud! :D). It has been changed. :)

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The Last Green Leaf
Chapter One – Coming of Age\r\n\r\n

“Legolas!” 

The voice was sharp in the young elfling’s ears. He knew he was in trouble. The blond-haired, blue-eyed elf sighed and put the gold leaf necklace that he had been looking at back under his tunic before giving away his position.

“I am here, Arthion.” Legolas said, waving to his elder brother from the tree in which he sat. His brother looked up and rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Ada is not pleased with you for running off without telling him where you were going.” Arthion scolded as his little brother scurried down the tree. 

“He was busy! And I did not really know where I wanted to go anyway.” Legolas said. Arthion took his hand forcefully and led him back to the great doors of their father’s halls. 

“That’s even worse, Legolas! If you did not know where you were going to go, how were we supposed to find you?” Arthion asked annoyedly. 

“I hate being in the caves! I love the trees!” The young elfling protested. “Ada does not make you tell him where you’re going! Why must I?” 

Arthion sighed as the two stopped at the doors of the Halls. “It is different for me. I am older.” He said. 

“It’s not just that! Hérion gets to go wherever he wants too.” Legolas pointed out. 

“Do not question things that you could never understand.” Arthion said as the doors opened. Legolas let out a frustrated sort of growl and glared angrily at his oldest brother as they walked into their father’s halls. 

Legolas did not like the darkness of their underground home, especially since he was made to spend so much time in it. His father was very strict with the things he could and could not do, and had ever rarely let him out on his own. The youngest of Thranduil’s sons wanted nothing more than to explore the forest about him and listen to the trees. He loved the trees, and if he were allowed to, he’d spend all day outdoors listening to what they had to tell him. 

As Arthion and Legolas passed an elleth who was pulling her elfling along to their home, the youngest son of the Elvenking dared to ask the question that he had been asking since he was old enough to realize that there was something missing in his family.

“Why do other elflings have a naneth and we do not?” he questioned timidly. Arthion immediately appeared uncomfortable. He averted his eyes from Legolas and loosened the grip on his hand. 

“You will learn when you are older.” He answered quietly. 

“You said that when I asked you on my tenth begetting day! I’m now twenty!” Legolas complained. “When will I be old enough?” 

“When Ada thinks you are, he will tell you.” Arthion said. Legolas growled angrily and marched alongside his brother, too frustrated to talk anymore.

Arthion led his littlest brother to their father’s study. Legolas was suddenly frightened. He knew he was in a bit of trouble for wandering off without permission. Just as Arthion was going to knock on the wooden door, Legolas stopped him. 

“Arthion, Ada isn’t going to yell, is he? I do not like it when he yells.” The youngest said, sounding ashamed. Arthion chuckled and ruffled his brother’s hair, mussing it slightly. 

“I am only sure of one thing,” the eldest said, “you are in for a scolding.” 

Legolas made a whining noise, his brothers words had neither confirmed nor disproved his fears and he swallowed hard as Arthion knocked on their father’s study’s door. 

“Enter.” A firm voice said. 

Arthion pushed the door open and gave Legolas a gentle nudge inside. The elfling stumbled forward ahead of his brother. Thranduil, who had been sitting at his desk, looked up and dropped the papers he had been reading, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you for finding him, Arthion.” Thranduil said, standing up. Arthion nodded, but said nothing. He did not fully approve of his father’s obvious over-protection of Legolas, but he was always afraid to discuss it. Arthion knew why his father sheltered his youngest, and he knew that if the subject were ever brought up, it would be painful for everyone involved. 

“You may leave us now, I have some things to discuss with Legolas.” Their father said, looking intently at his youngest son. Arthion nodded again and patted his little brother on the shoulder before leaving. 

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Arthion, Thranduil came out from behind his desk and stood in front of his son, his hands behind his back and his eyes fixed on the little blond head that was looking at the ground. 

“Where did you go?” Thranduil asked. 

“Outside.” Legolas answered guiltily. 

“Have I not told you that you are to ask for permission to go out of doors, and that you must be accompanied by an adult?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why did you not obey me?” 

“Because,” Legolas paused, wondering if he should tell the truth or if he should make something up, “I wanted to go outside.” He finally said. 

“Why could you have not waited for my permission, and for someone to take you outside?”

“Because I wanted to go alone!” Legolas said, suddenly raising his voice. 

“Legolas, the outside is no place for an elfling - ”  

“All of the other elflings my age get to go outdoors by themselves!” Legolas interjected. 

“The other elflings have the proper training with a bow.” Thranduil replied. 

“Because the other elfling’s parents let them learn how to use one!” his son retorted. 

“You are not ‘other’ elflings, Legolas.” Thranduil said sternly, working himself out of the hole he had dug himself into. Legolas looked up at his father with an angry glare.

“It’s not fair!” He protested. 

Thranduil got down on his knees to meet his youngest son at eye level and put his hands on Legolas’ shoulders. The elfling’s body stiffened at his touch, his anger at his father was apparent. 

“One day you will understand.” Thranduil said. 

Legolas looked even more upset at his father’s words. “When will I be old enough, Ada? I want to understand everything now!” 

Thranduil laughed and patted his son’s shoulder. “Not even the oldest and wisest elves understand everything, Legolas.” 

“When will I be old enough to know why…” Legolas stopped mid-sentence and covered his mouth; suddenly remembering that the question he was about to ask was a dangerous one. 

“Know what, little one?” Thranduil asked. Legolas shook his head, his hands still covering his mouth. 

Just in the nick of time for Legolas, the door to his father’s study opened and Nestadriel walked in. The healer, who had been Legolas’ caretaker since he had been born, looked startled. 

“I apologize, I can come back later.” She said. Thranduil was about to nod, but his youngest son took this opportunity to duck out of the door and run away from the curiosity that almost got away with him. Thranduil sighed and shook his head as he laughed to himself a little. 

Legolas had run only partway down the hall when he stopped dead in his tracks and thought for a moment. Why was he running? His father had said that he wanted to know what his question was. And Legolas did have a right to know about his mother, did he not? 

The little elfling, having made up his mind, turned back around and ran back to his father’s study. He was about to burst through the door until he noticed it was still open a little, and he could hear Nestadriel and his father speaking. Being the curious little elfling that he was, Legolas stopped and eavesdropped on what his father and caretaker were discussing. 

“I met Arthion in the hallway, my lord. He said that Legolas asked about his mother. Again.” The healer said, sounding slightly more than annoyed. Thranduil looked at her pensively, not saying anything. 

“Have you not told him?” she asked. 

Thranduil sighed heavily before answering. “I have not.” He said. 

“The child deserves to know about his mother! He is twenty years old!” Nestadriel said, pointing to the door. Legolas, afraid that he would be spotted, moved to the side of the opening to conceal himself. 

“He is not ready for that kind of information, Nestadriel. He is still too young to understand.” Thranduil said. 

“Legolas is a bright young boy, he will figure it out soon enough if you do not tell him.” Nestadriel warned. 

“He will not be able to figure it out if no one gives him clues.” The king said sternly, giving a warning of his own. Legolas peeked into the door again. His father had a very angry look on his face and had his hands balled into fists.

“Even without clues from you or I or your sons, he is old enough to understand that those of the Eldar do not die unless mortally wounded, and he knows that Wood-Elves do not sail West. And he knows that he did not simply spring out of a hole! He will put two and two together before long, my lord.” 

“I will not have my son thinking it his responsibility for his mother’s death!” Thranduil shouted angrily. 

Legolas, in shock and despair, felt his muscles loose their tenseness for a moment and he fell forward, pushing the door open all the way. He caught his balance as Nestadriel and Thranduil turned and saw him standing there. Thranduil’s heart sunk into his chest as he realized that Legolas had heard his words, and there was no way to take them back. 

“Legolas,” he said softly as he began to walk towards his son, his hand outstretched. Legolas, out of fright and anguish suddenly turned and ran. He did not want his father to see the tears that were threatening to spill over his cheeks. He did not want to face his father. 

Thranduil tried to follow after him, but Legolas was a fast runner and was already rounding the corner as the king stepped out of his study and called “Legolas!” The Elvenking sighed heavily as he watched his son disappear around the corner to hide himself somewhere in the network of caves. 

Legolas ran as fast as he could, not paying particular attention to where he was going. He ran into a few elves along the way, but did not stop to apologize for fear they would see his tears. All the while he was running he could hear three words echoing in his mind: 

“I killed her.”

Slowly, Legolas began to think that the reason his father had never let him do anything fun was because Thranduil hated him for causing the death of his wife. Now he understood why Nestadriel and his brother’s always seemed upset with Legolas mentioned his mother; because he had killed her. The tears that had been falling from his eyes began to fall with more frequency and it was hard for Legolas to continue running for despair he felt. 

When Legolas stopped, he was in front of the doors of the Great Hall, where his father’s throne was. There were two large statues built into niches in the wall on either side of the doors. One was an elleth, and one was an ellon. The ellon wore a crown of vines and looked very kingly. The statue often reminded Legolas of his father, though he knew it was not Thranduil. The elleth was a very graceful character that had long and flowing hair and a beautiful face. The little elfling often mused that if he ever had a mother, she must have looked like that. 

Legolas suddenly remembered his father’s words and more tears gushed from his eyes. Feeling guilty and remorseful, the little elfling climbed behind the stone elleth and hid in the shadows, crying. 

~

Thranduil had searched high and low for his son. After a half hour had passed, he sent some of the guard into the forest to search, thinking that perhaps Legolas had fled to the shelter of the trees as his mother had often done. Almwen and their son had like minds – they loved the trees and felt safer in a grove of growing things than in a guarded fortress. 

Alas, the guards had returned empty-handed and Thranduil then employed his elder sons to search the halls and any place in them where Legolas might be. Nestadriel had also gone off searching with a defiant “I told you so” . So far, they had not found the youngest of the Elvenking’s children. 

It had been nearly an hour when Thranduil finally entered the foyer to the Great Hall. The king was on the verge of giving up when he heard what sounded like a child crying. Thranduil looked around, not seeing any other elves except for the stone statues that were created in the likeness of Oropher and Almwen. The king followed his ears until he came upon the space between the base of Almwen’s statue and the wall. He looked into the shadows there and saw his son, curled up in a ball in the corner, sobbing. The king smiled, happy to have found his son, and finding it slightly ironic that he was hiding his mother’s effigy.

“Legolas, here you are.” Thranduil breathed in relief. 

Legolas’ head whipped up and his eyes stared straight into his father’s. His little bottom lip quivered as he realized his hiding spot had been revealed and he began to wail loudly. Thranduil instinctively reached into the corner and pulled his son out into the light, then sat on the ground and cradled the elfling in his arms as Legolas cried into his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Ada!” He cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

“Legolas, my son, you have naught to be sorry for!” Thranduil said, putting his hand on the back of the elfling’s head and stroking his blond hair. 

“Yes I do! I killed Naneth!” Legolas sputtered, still crying into his father’s shoulder. 

“An Orc’s arrow killed your mother, Legolas.” Thranduil sighed. Confused, Legolas sniffled and looked up into his father’s face.

“But you said - ” 

“I worried that if I told you what happened you would think it was your fault. I should have told you sooner – when you first asked. I could have saved you the heartache I caused you today. It is I who should apologize.” Thranduil explained. 

“It’s not my fault?” Legolas asked innocently. Thranduil smiled warmly and hugged his son close. 

“No, my little green leaf, it is not.” He said. Thranduil felt Legolas’ tense muscles relax, though he only began to cry again. The king’s brow furrowed and he looked down at his son. 

“Legolas, what is wrong?” he asked. 

“I don’t know!” Legolas sobbed. The little elfling did not understand why he was crying. He only knew that he felt like it. Perhaps he was happy that he had been acqutted of his mother's death, or sad that she had died. Either way, he still sobbed away in his father's arms.

 Thranduil smiled and kissed his son’s hair and hugged him. The king sighed as he stroked Legolas’ back, comforting the little elfling as he cried. After a few moments, Legolas’ sobs subsided and he gradually pulled away from his father’s chest and looked into Thranduil’s eyes with a sleepy gaze. 

“My son, you look exhausted,” Thranduil chuckled, patting the little boy’s head. Legolas looked as if he were going to say something, but a great yawn stifled what words he was going to say, making his father laugh more. 

“Shall we put you to bed for a small nap before dinner?” Thranduil asked. 

“I want to know about Naneth.” Legolas said simply. Knowing he could put it off no longer, the king sighed. 

“Do you remember me telling you that we used to live in the southern mountains before you were born?” Thranduil asked. Legolas nodded. “Well, just before you were born, evil things started to come to where we lived. It wasn’t safe for us anymore. So we decided to leave. Your mother was still carrying you in her when we departed. We were nearing the Forest Road when we were attacked by a band of Orcs.” 

Thranduil stopped and swallowed as the memories he had repressed for so long came flashing back to him. He could hear the shouts loudly ringing in his ears, and an arrow flying at full speed into flesh. He shuddered. 

“Ada?” Legolas asked. His father shook his head and breathed deeply before continued. 

“Your mother was hit by an Orc’s arrow in the shoulder. The wound probably would not have been fatal, if it were not for the poison on the tip of the arrow.”

Legolas gasped, suddenly making a connection. His father did not want him to train with the bow because his father was afraid to send him into battle. Thranduil, taking his son’s gasp for fear, squeezed Legolas’ hand and continued. 

“Your mother was very concerned for your well-being, for she knew the poison would soon mingle with your blood. She gathered all her strength and willed you to be born. And you were.” Thranduil’s voice broke, the memories causing sadness beyond belief for him. Nonetheless, he suppressed his tears and orated on. 

“She saved you, Legolas. And she gave you something to remember her by. Do you wear the gold leaf necklace I gave you for your tenth begetting day?” Thranduil asked. Legolas nodded and took the chain that was around his neck out from under his collar and let it rest outside his clothing. Thranduil touched the leaf charm that hung on it. 

“This was your mother’s. She gave it to you just before…” Thranduil’s voice trailed off, loosing his voice in his memories. 

Legolas looked up at his father. “Ada, if I had not been born, would Naneth still be alive?” he asked. Thranduil looked at his son and saw the desperate look in his eyes. To be completely honest, Thranduil had no idea what would have become of his wife if she had not willed herself into labor, but he had always assumed that both she and Legolas would have perished that night. There was always the thought that perhaps their child would have died instead and Almwen would have remained, but Thranduil tried not to linger on that thought. He loved his son too much to harbor any animosity towards him, and he did not want Legolas constantly wondering if he had died, would his mother have lived. 

“No.” Thranduil finally said. “I believe that I would have lost both of you that night, if it were not for your mother.” 

Legolas, finally hearing for the first time the truth about his mother, felt a horrible sense of loss. He snuggled close to his father’s chest for comfort. A few tears trickled down his already tear-stained face as he looked up at his father. 

“I wish I could have known her.” Legolas said quietly. Thranduil smiled. 

“You know her very well, Legolas.” He said. The little prince looked at his father with confusion reflecting in his bright blue eyes. “Her spirit lives on in you.” 

“What does that mean?” Legolas asked, wrinkling his nose. 

“That means that you can find her when you look inside yourself.” Thranduil said, poking his son’s nose with his index finger. Legolas giggled and swatted his father’s hand, which resulted in a tickling attack on the little prince. 

“Ada!” Legolas laughed, trying to wriggle away from his father. “No tickling!” 

“What is that you say? More tickling?” Thranduil laughed. 

“No! No more!” Legolas said between giggles. 

The laughter of father and son echoed off of the foyer walls, creating a light-hearted, melodious mood in the room as the stone carving of Almwen observed the happy scene in watchful silence.


Chapter 2 - Left Alone

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie\r\n\r\n

Author’s Note: First off, The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 
Secondly, I really apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Between New Year's and moving back to school, things have been pretty hectic (plus the fact that I was without internet for three days over New Year's. Bah!). I promise I won't be as late with the next chapter. :3

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The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Two – Left Alone\r\n\r\n

Legolas would have liked to think that today was a bright and sunny day, but he wouldn’t have known. He was cooped up inside, again, as his father had forbidden him from leaving the caves under penalty of being confined to his room for everything except meals and lessons for a week. So, to amuse himself, Legolas was sitting in his room, reading some of the scrolls he had smuggled out of the library. Thranduil had told the little elfling that he was to read the scrolls in the library, but if Legolas were to do that, he’d be in the library all day. And as much as he loved it there, he liked reading on his bed better. 

The youngest son of Thranduil sighed and rolled over on his bed. Reading was only interesting as long as he didn’t have previous knowledge of what he was studying. Alas, when he had picked out these scrolls, he wasn’t interested in what they contained. Rather, he was interested in grabbing what was in sight and escaping without being caught. And what he had taken were scrolls that discussed, in great detail, the establishment of Greenwood the Great. He had read these scrolls many times and knew them inside out. 

Frustrated and bored, Legolas leapt from his bed and out into the hallway of his home. As he was passing his brother Hérion’s room, he looked in the open door to see Hérion fastening wrist guards to his arms. Legolas immediately stopped and knocked on the door. Hérion looked up. 

“Hello, little brother.” He said with a smile. Legolas walked in and sat on the wooden chest at the end of his brother’s bed and watched Hérion as he fastened his archer’s gear to his body. 

“Where are you going?” Legolas asked, innocently kicking his legs in the air. 

“Out to practice with Gwendir,” Hérion said as he slipped his quiver over his shoulder. 

“May I come?” his younger brother asked. Hérion chuckled. 

“No, Legolas. You do not know how to shoot a bow.” He said. 

“I just want to watch,” Legolas mentioned, “and I’ll stay out of your way, I promise!” 

“Legolas, Ada will never let me take you outside to watch me practice archery. I would love to take you, if he would let you go.” Hérion sighed, picking his bow up off of his bed. 

“You could take me and Ada would never have to know!” Legolas said, a plot hatching in his youthful mind. Hérion laughed. 

“And what would you tell him when he came looking for you here and you were gone?” 

“I would tell him that I was in the library!” 

“He always looks for you there, little brother.” 

Legolas looked especially frustrated as he crossed his arms and frowned and mumbled something about the unfairness of the situation. Hérion smiled and patted his brother on the head as he walked towards the door. 

“You should go find some elflings your age to play with and enjoy the day.” Hérion said, turning and giving Legolas a reassuring look just before he left. He waved at his little brother and then walked down the hall.

“All of the other elflings my age are at archery lessons.” Legolas sighed as his shoulders sagged.

He was going to go mad if he had to spend one more day alone studying. 

~ 

The conversation at the dinner table had subsided and the quiet clinking of dishes cutting pheasant with knives and forks and glasses being picked up and set back down echoed throughout the dining hall. Legolas, deciding that there was no time like the present, put down his eating utensils and looked at his father. 

“Ada, I’d like to begin archery lessons.” He said bluntly. Arthion and Hérion stared at their father, who coughed on his drink, caught off guard by his youngest’ request. 

“Why do you want to start archery, Legolas?” Thranduil asked. 

“Because then I can join the archery class in the afternoon.” Legolas replied. 

“My son, they are already five years ahead of you. Elflings start taking archery on their fifteenth year.” The king said. Legolas’ disappointment was evident as he stared at his feet and let his shoulders sag. 

“But I am so lonely during the day, and I cannot join Arthion or Hérion when they go practice because you do not let me! And I cannot go play with my friends because they are in the archery class!” The elfling said sadly. 

Arthion, seeing an opportunity to, in a way, force his father to let Legolas learn, piped into the conversation. 

“I can get him caught up, Ada.” 

Thranduil shot his oldest son a look that seemed to scream, “keep quiet!” but he did not comply. 

“He has to learn sometime. And he cannot join the class if he is so far behind. I’d be happy to teach him what he needs to know.” 

Thranduil looked over to Legolas, whose eyes were pleading with him. The king did not want to say no, but he also did not want to let Legolas learn how to use a bow and arrow. If he knew how to use weapons, he would be able to go outside unaccompanied into the forest. This would have been no problem, if the giant spiders had stayed to the south like the Orcs had. He would not risk loosing Legolas. 

“We’ll discuss it later.” Thranduil sighed. 

Legolas found this solution a good one and went back to happily munching on his dinner. A postponement of the discussion was better than a complete halt, anyway. Arthion, on the other hand, knew that this was just his father’s way of hoping that the situation would go away. Arthion knew that Thranduil did not want Legolas learning archery, and he thoroughly disapproved. He knew that his mother would have wanted Legolas to grow up as a normal elfling, not a sheltered prince. 

Arthion gave his father an angry look and continued on with his meal, planning on making sure that the matter was discussed again. 

~ 

Later that night, Legolas was back in his room, sitting on his bed, awaiting his father to come and tuck him into bed for the night. He had just finished putting on his sleeping clothes and climbing under the covers when he heard voices outside his door. 

“He will grow up sometime, Ada.” The first voice said. Legolas identified it as Arthion’s. 

“I know that, Arthion.” The second said in an annoyed tone. The eavesdropping elfling knew it to be his father’s. 

“He will then be old enough to leave these halls without your permission. If he does not know how to defend himself something evil will surely befall him. He needs to learn how to keep himself safe.” Arthion said. 

“He is too young.” Thranduil replied in a stern voice.

“And I was not?” Legolas’ older brother shot back. 

“Things were different then!” Thranduil shouted. Legolas jumped in his bed, startled by his father’s angry tone. 

“You were different then!” Arthion said defiantly. 

There were a few moments of silence. Legolas desperately wanted to go peek through his door, but he did not want his father and brother knowing that he was listening in on their conversation. He could only imagine the stony glares his loved ones were exchanging just outside his room. Anxiously, the little prince bit his lower lip and waited for the tension to break. 

“Arthion, the forest is dangerous, I will not have Legolas traipsing about - ” Thranduil began, but his eldest son broke in.

“Do not punish Legolas for the death of Naneth.” Arthion said quietly. More silence. 

Legolas was puzzled. Why would his father punish him for something he did not do? Didn’t Thranduil say that it was not Legolas’ fault that his mother died? The twenty-year-old elfling’s brow furrowed as he sat pensively, wondering what his brother could be talking about. 

Outside his door, Legolas’ father stared angrily at his eldest son. He was furious at the insolence Arthion had shown, but at the same time he was enraged that his son had been able to pinpoint exactly why he sheltered Legolas; he was afraid to loose him. Unable to provide a sufficient excuse, Thranduil only glared at his eldest.

Arthion, on the other hand, looked at his father with compassion and sympathy in his eyes. He too, was protective of his youngest brother, but in a different way than Thranduil. He wanted Legolas to experience the life that his mother would never know, and he would never experience it while cooped up inside the walls of their home. While his father was still brooding over a response, Arthion sighed and walked past Thranduil, going to his own room. 

“Good night, Ada.” He said quietly. 

Thranduil did not turn, nor did he reply. He stood outside Legolas’ door, starting angrily at the place where Arthion had been standing just as if he were still there. A storm raged in his eyes as he thought about his son’s words and how true they were. With an aggravated sigh, he turned towards Legolas’ door and reached for the handle. 

Legolas threw himself down on the bed when he heard the door click, signaling his father’s entrance. The little prince tried to appear as if he had been reading some scrolls instead of eavesdropping, but he feared that his father might have noticed his flustered look. 

“Is my little green leaf ready for bed?” Thranduil asked, sitting on the edge of Legolas’ bed. Legolas nodded enthusiastically, setting the scrolls down. 

“Yes, Ada.” He said. Thranduil smiled and patted his son on the shoulder. 

“So, you would like to begin archery?” the king asked. Legolas’ eyes lit up and he nodded even more enthusiastically than he had before. 

“Yes! I would like to very, very much!” the little elfling replied, a bright smile on his face. 

“It is a dangerous sport. I do not want you to get hurt,” Thranduil said. 

“I will promise to be very careful,” Legolas said, fearing that his father might decide not to let him learn after all. Thranduil nodded and looked away from his son, appearing to be deep in thought. His son’s hopes fell as the seconds ticked away. His chances did not look good. Just as Legolas was beginning to think of new promises to make to his father to convince him of his security, Thranduil sighed and turned back to face his son. 

“I think that you would make a fine archer, Legolas.” 

Legolas’ eyes lit up again and he lunged at his father, hugging him with all of the strength in his little body. 

“Thank you, Ada! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He exclaimed. 

Thranduil laughed and returned his son’s embrace, a little startled at Legolas’ sudden leap. After a moment, he pulled Legolas away and set him back under the sheets and looked him straight in the eye. 

“Now, you must promise me that you will follow Arthion’s every instruction and that you will under no circumstances go out to practice on your own, do you understand?” Thranduil asked. Legolas nodded. 

“Yes Ada.” He said, smiling in assurance. “Thank you!” He said again, smiling from ear to ear. Thranduil chuckled and ruffled his son’s blond hair. 

“Now, it’s time for sleep. All young archers need their rest.” His father said, tucking the sheets in around Legolas. He leaned down and kissed his son’s forehead and took the scrolls that were lying on top of the down comforter and laid them on the nightstand. “Goodnight, little green leaf.” He said softly. 

“Goodnight, Ada.” Legolas said happily. 

Thranduil smiled and was about to blow out the candle on his son’s nightstand when the scrolls that he had just put there caught his eye. 

“Legolas?” he asked.

“Yes, Ada?”

“Where did you get these scrolls?”


Chapter 3 - Patience

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie\r\n\r\n

Author’s Note: First off, The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it.

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The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Three – Patience\r\n\r\n

“No, Legolas,” Arthion said as he knelt down next to his little brother, who had a bow and arrow in his unsteady little fingers, aiming at a target on a tree. “Relax your arm,” the elder said, holding his brother’s twitching arm in his hands. 

“If I relax, I’ll let go.” Legolas protested, looking at his brother.

“Eyes on the target.” Arthion commanded. Legolas swiftly turned his head back and stared at the tree. 

“I did not mean to ease your grip. I meant to calm yourself, little brother.” Arthion said, chuckling a little. Legolas’ arm was tense and his knuckles were white from gripping the bow and arrow so tightly. Arthion placed his hands on his little brother’s shoulders and breathed deeply.

“Breathe, Legolas.” He said. 

Legolas took a deep breath, but did not take his eyes off the target. He was nervous. It was his first day of learning how to shoot and he did not want to disappoint his brother. Already, several of his arrows had gone astray. Arthion had said that all beginners are terrible on their first day, but Legolas did not want to tarry in his learning. He was already behind all the other elflings. He was in a hurry to be taught. 

“Legolas, you must relax if you’re ever going to hit that target. You cannot properly concentrate if you are this tense.” Arthion finally said. 

“It’s no use, brother! I haven’t even hit the target once! I’m a horrible archer!” Legolas said, dropping the bow and arrow as he turned to face Arthion. He was frustrated; it was glowing in his eyes. 

“No one is expected to hit the target on their first day, Legolas.” Arthion comforted. 

“No one starts learning this late, either.” Legolas pointed out. His brother sighed. Legolas was too impatient, and Arthion knew that if his little brother did not learn the fortitude to try and try again, he’d never master the bow and arrow. Arthion decided to switch tactics. 

The elder of the two elves stood and went to the tree that had the target nailed to it. Arthion reached up to the circular piece of wood and tore it from the tree, making a loud cracking sound that startled Legolas. Arthion discarded the wood. 

“There is no target, anymore.” Arthion said. Legolas looked confused. His oldest brother came back to the spot where he stood and put his hands behind his back. 

“Ready your arrow.” He instructed. Legolas looked at Arthion with a bewildered look on his face as he loaded his bow. 

“What am I aiming for?” He asked. 

“Nothing.” Arthion said simply. 

“Nothing?” Legolas questioned. 

“Do as I say, Legolas.” 

Still perplexed, Legolas readied his arrow in his bow and stood as though he were going to fire. Though, he did not know what he was aiming for, so he focused on the tree where the target had been. 

“Only fire when I tell you to.” Arthion said coolly. Legolas nodded, awaiting his brother’s signal. 

He waited. And waited, and waited, and waited, but Arthion did not even make a sound. After a few moments, Legolas began to wonder. 

“Arthion?” 

“I will tell you to shoot when you are ready.” 

So then, Legolas decided that there was something wrong with his stance. He contemplated where his feet were, how he was holding the arrow and the bow, where he was looking, but he could find no fault. 	Now, the young prince was completely puzzled. His eyes darted around, as if looking for something that was keeping Arthion from telling him to fire. 

“What am I doing wrong?” Legolas asked finally. 

“Nothing.” 

“Then why - ”

“Patience.” Arthion said. 

Legolas was still confused. He wanted to look at his brother, but he was afraid of what Arthion would say, so he continued to look forward as his brother began to walk in a circle around him. 

“The first lesson in archery you must learn is not how to shoot the arrow, Legolas. Your first lesson is to learn patience; the patience to learn, the patience to think, the patience to aim.” Arthion said, looking intently at his little brother. Legolas saw his brother walk around him, but did not take his eyes off the tree. 

“I will not allow you to shoot until I believe that you have learned this lesson.” Arthion said. 

Legolas did not learn the lesson for nearly an hour. 

For the first ten minutes, Legolas’ body was constantly twitching. His feet would shift, his grip would lax and then tense again, and his breathing would quicken and slow. After that, his body became tired in the position he was holding. His arms grew heavy and he longed to release the arrow and put down his bow. At that point, he didn’t even care if the arrow soared into the air and miles past his target. 

Shortly after he had been standing there for a half-hour, Legolas grew angry. He was uncomfortable, but could not show Arthion his discomfort for he knew that if he did, he would have to restart this lesson. Legolas remained quiet, but the anger still burned in his eyes. 

Finally, he decided that the only way to get out of this mess was to swallow his frustration and relax. Legolas realized that Arthion could see his irritation and that he would not let him shoot the arrow until he was completely calm. The youngest child of Thranduil sighed and began to breathe deeply until he was totally relaxed. 

Arthion would occasionally pace around his little brother, observing him. Gradually, he watched Legolas’ body become more accustomed to being in the archer’s position and his muscles became complacent with their settings. He watched his brother go from anxious to angry to calm, and only after Legolas had been calm for more than a quarter of an hour, he decided that Legolas was ready. 

“Fire.” 

No sooner had he said the word, the arrow shot from Legolas’ bow and quickly embedded itself in the tree that Legolas had been focusing on earlier. Legolas was so surprised that, at first, he thought he had imagined it. 

“Excellent!” Arthion commended, patting Legolas on the shoulder. 

“I…I hit the target?” Legolas asked in disbelief. 

“There was no target, Legolas. I was not planning on you hitting the tree, but it was surely an added bonus.” Arthion said, winking as he kneeled down to meet his brother’s gaze. 

“The point of this exercise is that you learned that through patience, a goal can be achieved. Only through being patient will you catch up to the other elflings your age.” Arthion said. Legolas nodded, looking as if he was slowly beginning to understand. 

“I think that’s enough for today.” Arthion sighed, picking up his own bow and quiver that were leaning against a rock a few paces behind them.

“But I want to keep going!” Legolas said. Arthion chuckled and shook his head. 

“We have already been out here for two hours, Legolas. The sun will be setting soon and we cannot be outside when the forest gets dark.” Arthion said, his voice growing darker as he mentioned sunset. 

“What happens after the sun sets?” Legolas asked as he went to go retrieve the arrow from the tree. He had hardly been outside without anyone’s company, let alone been out after dark. 

“Fell things live in this forest, Legolas. It is not safe after the sun is gone.” Arthion said. Legolas saw the pain that reflected in his brother’s face, as if he were remembering something that happened long ago. 

“Like Orcs?” Legolas asked, pulling the arrow from the tree. 

“Orcs, and other things. Evil creatures that care for nothing but spilling the blood of others.” His brother said darkly. 

“What other things?” The curious elfling interrogated, putting his arrow back into his quiver and going to join his brother. 

“Have you not heard the stories of the giant spiders, little brother?” Arthion asked sounding a little annoyed. 

“I have heard of them, but I never really thought they were real. I’ve never seen a spider that could swallow an elf.” Legolas replied. Arthion shot an angry look at Legolas. 

“They are real, Legolas. Take heed, they are not something to be thought of lightly. They are quick and deadly, and care for nothing but to fill their stomachs. You would do well to believe in foul things, little brother.” 

Legolas fell silent as he and Arthion began to walk back to the entrance to their home. He wasn’t sure what to think about his brother’s sudden anger, and if he should really believe what he had to say about the spiders. Surely there weren’t insects that grew to be that big. 

“Have you fought one?” Legolas asked timidly, looking up to the back of Arthion’s head. 

“Yes.” Arthion said flatly. 

“Did you defeat it?”  

Arthion sighed, his heart heavy with the memories of that terrible day. “No, Legolas. If it were not for our father, I would be dead.” 

“Ada killed a spider?” Legolas asked, sounding absolutely awestruck. Arthion chuckled. 

“Yes. Ada was a great warrior in his day. Remember, he fought in the War of the Last Alliance and helped bring about the downfall of Sauron.” The elder said, looking back at his little brother. Legolas looked as if he were daydreaming. 

“I cannot wait to become a great archer so that I may stand beside Ada and Hérion and you in battle someday,” the elfling said dreamily. Arthion stopped and turned to face his little brother. He knelt to come to Legolas’ eye level and looked straight into his bright blue eyes with an extremely serious look on his face. 

“Battle is nothing to look forward to, Legolas.” He said gravely. “You must never go looking for it, or never lust for it. War is a terrible thing. It brings destruction and death to everything you hold dear.” Arthion looked terribly sincere as he spoke. Legolas wondered if perhaps his older brother had wanted to fight when he was young, before his mother died. 

“I do not think we will need to go looking for battle,” Arthion said, looking distant. “I believe battle will come to us soon enough.” 

Legolas looked confused. Arthion shortly realized that he had been speaking what he had meant to keep to himself and he shook his head. 

“Aah, I’ve let my head run away with my mouth. Do not pay my worries any mind, little brother.” He said, patting his brother’s shoulder. 

“Arthion, how will I ever become a great warrior like Ada if I never fight?” Legolas asked, a confused look on his face. Arthion smiled and suddenly appeared very wise. The look that came over his brother’s face startled Legolas slightly. 

“Great deeds are not done by the sword or the bow, Legolas. Great deeds are done by great hearts.” 

Legolas felt his brother’s words penetrate his ears and go straight to his soul. He looked into Arthion’s eyes and knew what he said to be true. And suddenly, the little elfling felt the ideas in his head change. No longer did he wish to be a great warrior. 

Arthion patted his brother’s shoulder and stood and continued to walk towards their home. Legolas tarried for a moment where he had been standing, contemplating something. 

“Arthion?” He suddenly asked. Arthion turned and looked at his brother, who was still a few paces behind him. 

“Do I have a good heart?” Legolas asked. Arthion smiled kindly and walked back to take Legolas’ hand. 

“Legolas, you have a great heart.”


Chapter 4 - First Danger

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie\r\n\r\n

Author’s Note: First off, The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it.
Also, I promise that the next update will be soon since this chapter is kind of a cliff-hanger. *feels evil* 

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The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Four – First Danger\r\n\r\n

“Hérion, Legolas, we really should be getting back.” Arthion said, putting his bow over his shoulder. 

“Should we not enjoy the rest of the daylight that we have left? Ada has given us the entire day to hunt. Besides, this is Legolas’ first real hunting trip. We should let him enjoy it while it lasts.” Hérion said, always the one to push the limits. 

“The sun is setting.” Legolas pointed out, looking to the sky. Through the trees, they could see the sky that was painted orange with the setting of the sun. 

“Let us enjoy the rest of the daylight we have by walking back home. We are already far enough away that it will be dark before we get back.” Arthion said, walking away. Hérion sighed and followed his older brother, and Legolas fell into line behind him. 

It had been many years since Legolas had begun to learn how to use the bow. By now, he had fully matured into an adult elf in body. He was tall and his blond hair was pulled back with plaits behind his hears, signifying that he had mastered the bow and was capable of battle, though he had not seen it yet. Over the years, Thranduil had gradually loosened his grip on Legolas and let him wander the forest by himself. However, he still did not let his youngest son join his brothers on patrol with the guard. Legolas, while frustrated with is father’s overprotection, accepted the fact that he would probably never get a chance to use his archery skills, save on hunting trips. 

Most of the hunting excursions that he had been on with his brothers had lasted only a half of a day, but when the three brothers had asked Thranduil’s permission to leave on this particular trip, the king was in a good mood and allowed them the entire day. Legolas had never been outside the caves for such an extended period of time in his life, and he was quite enjoying it. 

“It is a sad thought that we do not get to enjoy the peace of the outdoors like this more often,” He remarked, gazing at the trees around him. He could hear the whispers in the branches around him and desperately wanted to linger near them and listen to what secrets they had to tell.

“Aye.” Arthion said, not looking back. 

“If our elder brother was not so afraid of the dark we might be able to stay out longer!” Hérion jested, smirking mischievously at Legolas, who smiled and shook his head. His older brother was a fully-grown elf in body, but inside he was still an elfling at play most of the time. Always the jester.

“Afraid of the dark, eh?” Arthion asked as he turned to face his brother, a sly smile crossing his face. Legolas sighed and chuckled. Arthion always indulged in Hérion’s immature behavior. Out of the three, Legolas was usually more responsible.

“Indeed!” Hérion chirped with an amused tone in his voice. Arthion drew the knives that he had sheathed on his back and bent his knees in a fighting stance.  

“Take back your words and your life will be spared!” The elder declared comically. Hérion drew his knives and mirrored his brother’s stance.

“Never!” He cried, engaging Arthion in battle. 

Legolas stepped back and laughed as he watched his brothers’ spar in the woods. Arthion was clearly better than Hérion with the knives as he had more years experience to work with. Hérion, however, was faster than his elder brother, which evened the level. Legolas watched, smiling amusedly. He observed his brothers’ footwork and recognized the style in which they were engaged; it looked almost like a dance. Arthion’s and Hérion’s knives clanged as they met, the sound of metal upon metal echoing off the trees.

“What do you say Legolas?” Hérion asked, looking at his younger brother. “Who is the better fighter?” In that moment, Arthion dropped to the ground and swung his leg at the back of his brother’s knees, throwing Hérion on his back. 

“The one who does not look away!” Legolas laughed.

Arthion chuckled and stood, holding out his hand to Hérion to help him up. Hérion took his brother’s hand, but instead of pulling himself up, he pulled Arthion to the ground and then leapt up himself, putting a knife to Arthion’s throat. 

“The duel is mine!” He declared proudly. 

“Not yet!” Arthion said, grabbing Hérion’s ankle and pulling him to the ground. The two older sons of Thranduil began to roll around on the ground, wrestling, as two elflings would do. 

“You two are going to get us all in trouble if you roll in the dirt much longer,” Legolas pointed out, a smirk on his face. 

“Fear not, Legolas! It will not take me long to defeat this fiend!” Arthion jested. Hérion laughed as he tackled his older brother, who threw him in a summersault over his head. The younger landed with a loud thud.

“I shall make you pay for that!” Hérion declared, charging at Arthion once more.

Just as Legolas was thinking to himself how ridiculous his brother’s looked, he heard something in the trees behind him. The youngest prince of Mirkwood whirled around, but could see nothing through the brush. 

“Brothers, perhaps we should leave,” he said in a low voice. But his brothers did not hear him for they were too busy fighting to the death on the ground. Legolas turned back to his siblings. 

“Arthion! Hérion!” He shouted. The two elves stopped their rolling about and looked at their brother. 

“What?” The two asked in unison. 

But before Legolas had a chance to explain his concern, he saw Arthion’s eyes grow wide at something behind him. Slowly, the youngest son of Thranduil turned and saw eyes, many eyes, staring maliciously at him. Legolas froze, realizing what was before him: one of the great spiders.

“Legolas! Get out of the way!” Arthion screamed, jumping up from the ground. 

The spider lunged forward towards Legolas, who jumped out of the way just before he was trampled. Hérion dodged out of the way, but Arthion was surprised by the creature’s speed and caught off-guard. The spider kicked him with one of its many legs, knocking him against a tree. His head collided with the sturdy bark and his world instantly went black. 

“Arthion!” Hérion and Legolas cried in unison. Hérion leapt atop the spider before drawing his bow and arrow. The creature began to buck and shake, trying to rid himself of the elf on his back. Hérion could not load his arrow on his bow properly and keep his balance at the same time and he was thrown onto the ground with one great heave of the spider. 

“AGH!” He cried as his back collided with the hard ground. The spider was immediately over him, it’s stinger ready to plunge into his flesh. 

Legolas, paralyzed with fear watched as Hérion dodge the creature’s stinger stabbing at him. A thousand thoughts whizzed through his head as he tried to determine what he should do. Innocent to the fear of battle, Legolas did not know the proper course of action. He looked over to Arthion, unconscious on the ground. His elder brother could not save them. It was up to him. 

Legolas whipped out an arrow and loaded his bow, aimed, and shot the spider in the leg. It let out a cry of pain just before charging for an extremely surprised Legolas. 

“Legolas!” Hérion cried, reaching out with his arm as if he could reach is brother from his spot on the ground.

The youngest son of Thranduil ducked out of the spider’s way and scrambled up a tree, not really sure what he was doing. The foul creature followed Legolas and grabbed his foot with its mouth. Desperately, Legolas grabbed a tree branch and clung to it with both of his hands, letting his bow drop to the ground. He held as long as he could, but the spider’s heaving was too great and he was forced to let go. He dropped to the ground, landing right next to one of Arthion’s abandoned knives. 

Legolas saw the glint of the knife on the side of his eye and he reached out to grab it. The spider saw him reach for the weapon and it extracted its stinger and began to stab at Legolas. 

“You will not take my brother!” Hérion shouted, drawing another arrow and shooting. His shot hit the spider’s abdomen, causing another screech. 

Legolas took this moment of his foe’s distraction to his advantage and reached for the knife, just as he took it in his hand, he felt something sharp graze his left side. Without thinking about the pain in his side, he clenched the knife in his hand and slashed it across the underside of the beast, causing a spray of black blood to fly. Legolas scrambled out from underneath the spider as it began to thrash and cry out in pain, slowly dying from its mortal wound. 

Arthion, upon hearing the shrill cries of the evil creature slowly came to his senses just as Legolas came to his side. 

“Brother, are you alright?” Legolas asked, helping Arthion sit up. 

“I am fine…” Arthion’s voice trailed off as he looked at his youngest brother, who was covered in a black, sticky liquid. Legolas was shaking as he looked at the spider that was thrashing in pain. The youngest looked away and closed his eyes.

“Make it stop,” He said quietly. Though the spider had nearly taken the lives of him and his brothers, he could not bear to see it in such pain. It was a living creature, just as he was, and the sounds it was making tore at his heart. 

Suddenly, Hérion shot another arrow straight into the spider’s head, putting the creature out of its misery. Legolas sighed and looked down at the ground, trying to let the shock of the kill out of his body.

“Are you two alright?” Hérion asked breathlessly. 

“I’ve had worse hits to my head than this,” Arthion said, a smirk on his face. Legolas nodded, but did not say a word. 

“We had better get back and get you washed up, Legolas. Ada will not want to know about this.” Hérion said, picking up his knives and putting them back in his sheath.

“Indeed. He will not want to know that any of us were involved in a fight with such a fell creature.” Arthion noted. 

“Aye.” Legolas said quietly, as he helped Arthion to stand. Just as the two brothers were nearly standing straight, Legolas felt a sharp pain in his side.

“Ah!” He cried out, grabbing the left side of his chest and falling back to his knees. 

“Legolas?” Arthion caught Legolas’ left arm, revealing a deep gash in his side that was beginning to bleed profusely. “What happened?!” the elder demanded.

“It…hit me…” Legolas replied in a pained voice as he pointed to the dead spider. 

“The stinger…” Hérion gasped, coming closer to his brothers. 

Legolas began to gasp for air as his body was robbed of its blood. His muscles grew weak and he found it difficult to keep his balance. His vision was beginning to get blurry, and he blinked to try and correct it. The youngest of Thranduil’s sons could no longer hold himself up, and he fell back into Arthion’s arms. 

“Legolas!” his brothers cried. 

“Don’t tell Ada…” Legolas breathed as he slipped into unconsciousness.


Chapter 5 - Meant to Live

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie\r\n\r\n

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it.
And of course, since I said that I wouldn’t take long to write this chapter, I did. And I left you with a cliffhanger. I'm terrible!
I would like to apologize to all of my readers who counted on reading this story... I grappled with the original idea for this chapter because it is utterly cliche, and that conflict led to fear of posting it, so I just avoided writing it. I actually finished this chapter a long time ago, but was hesitant to post for the aformentioned reasons, and because I hadn't finished the chapter that comes directly after this, so I waited. But now, with my fears gone and the next chapters well underway, I am happy to post this. My writing is what it is. Cliche or not, I promise the story is not going to get "cheesey" by any means. 

God, I hope some of you still want to read this!

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The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Five – Meant to Live\r\n\r\n


The doors of Thranduil’s study burst open, startling the Elvenking. He looked up to see his son, Hérion in the doorway looking particularly winded. 

“Ada,” He breathed. “You must come quickly. Legolas is hurt.” 

Thranduil felt his heart drop into his stomach and he dropped the feather quill he had been using to draft a letter to Lord Elrond of Imladris onto the desk. He immediately rose from his chair and walked from behind his desk, studying Hérion’s face. His middle child looked terrified. His clothes and face were smudged in dirt and a black liquid. Thranduil immediately recognized the ebon fluid on his son’s garb.

“What happened?” He asked. 

“We were attacked.” Hérion said through his panting. Suddenly, he took his father’s hand and dragged him out of the room and down the hall towards the healing houses. He didn’t know how his younger brother fared, but he knew it could not be good. Legolas had lost a lot of blood on the way back from the battle scene. Hérion did not want to not be far if something was happening.

“Hérion! Tell me what happened!” Thranduil demanded, still following his son. 

“There is no time.” Hérion said, not looking back. 

~

Meanwhile, Arthion was sitting in the houses of healing, rubbing his hands together nervously as he waited outside the room where the healers had taken Legolas. Nestadriel, who had met them at the door when the arrived, had not had a hopeful look on her face when she saw Legolas’ wound. This worried Arthion greatly. 

He cast a glance at the wooden door that separated him from his brother and listened to the muffled voices that were coming from it. All of the sounds were madly calm. He could not read what was going on. Frustrated, he put his head in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the ground. 

“I should have done something.” He said angrily. 

Suddenly, he heard the door click open and he looked up to see Nestadriel walking out, a sober look on her face. 

“Lady Nestadriel, how is he?” Arthion asked, jumping out of his seat. 

“We’re still not sure.” The healer said, wiping her hands in the apron that was over her pale blue gown. Arthion noticed bloodstains on the apron; Legolas’ blood. “There was no poison in the wound, but it was a deep gash. He was lucky, none of his vital organs were damaged, but he still has lost much blood. His breathing is still shallow and he does not wake.” Nestadriel looked away, a pensive expression on her face. 

“Will he live?” Arthion asked softly. Nestadriel looked back at the eldest prince of Mirkwood with sympathetic eyes. 

“We will see.” She said. 

Just then, Hérion and Thranduil burst into the room, looking flustered and concerned. Nestadriel and Arthion looked at the two newcomers, and the two stared back, grave expressions on their faces. 

“Where is my son?” Thranduil asked darkly.

“He is there,” Nestadriel said, motioning to the door behind her. Thranduil’s gaze traveled from the healer to the door, and he suddenly strode forward to the door. Nestadriel stepped in front of him. 

“You may not enter, my lord. The other healers are still stitching the wound.” She said. 

“I wish to see my son!” The king demanded. Nestadriel did not move. 

“You would not even let your king pass?” Thranduil said. 

“This is something that a father should not see.” Nestadriel said softly. Thranduil looked at her with a scowl on his face. 

“I have seen many things that a father, or a husband, should not see, Nestadriel.” He replied in a low voice. Acknowledging that point, Nestadriel looked away from the king and sighed angrily. Thranduil once again tried to pass her, but the healer stepped in his way again. 

“Spare yourself the pain.” She said. 

The healer and the king glared at each other for a few silent moments, angry and determined looks on their faces. Behind them, Arthion and Hérion exchanged confused looks and waited for the next words to be spoken. Just when it began to look like the tension would never break, the door behind Nestadriel opened and one of the healers walked out, a timid look on his face. 

“My lady,” He said to Nestadriel, “His wounds are wrapped.” 

Nestadriel nodded and the other healer stepped aside to allow the king entrance. No sooner had he stepped away was Thranduil in the room where Legolas slept and at his side. He sat down on a stool next to his son’s bed and took his hand. Nestadriel, Arthion, and Hérion came seconds after the king. Arthion came in behind his father and put his hand on Thranduil’s shoulder while Nestadriel and Hérion stood at the foot of the bed.  

Thranduil extended his right hand and stroked Legolas’ silent face. Legolas’ skin was colder than it should have been, and glistening with sweat. Thranduil’s son shuddered as his father touched him, but he did not wake. The king closed his eyes tightly for a moment and then turned to Nestadriel and Hérion with angry eyes.

“How did this happen?” He asked. 

“We were attacked.” Arthion said, taking his hand off of his father’s shoulder. “A great spider came at us as we were heading in from the hunting trip.” 

Thranduil let out an angry growl and clenched his teeth together. Arthion looked away, feeling guilty that Legolas was injured. 

“Legolas saved our lives.” Hérion said quietly. Thranduil shot his middle child a look. 

“Are you two not capable of saving your own lives?” he snapped angrily. 

“My lord!” Nestadriel said in a scolding voice. “No one can prepare for an attack from one of those foul creatures. Not even your sons.” 

Thranduil glared angrily for a moment, then turned his face to look upon his injured son again. Legolas’ eyes were closed and his brow furrowed, as if he were in pain or having a bad dream. His chest barely rose and fell as his breath was shallow, and his skin was pale. The gravity of the situation was rather apparent to Thranduil. A lump rose in his throat as he looked on his youngest son’s face again, remembering when he had held his child for the first time nearly two centuries ago. In his anger and his worry, the king lost track of the words that he spoke.

“Did your mother not give her life so that this one may live? How easily have you let her sacrifice be forgotten!” he said, looking back at his two older sons.

Arthion saw the look on his father’s face and immediately guilt washed over his body like a wave on the ocean. “If I had only been quicker!” he cursed himself inwardly, clenching his fists and staring at the ground. He knew that his father might not have truly meant what he said, but the words had cut at him nonetheless. With an angry growl, he turned on his heel and flew from the room. Hérion watched his elder brother flee, and then glared at his father. 

“Her sacrifice has never been forgotten, Adar.” He spat at Thranduil. “It was her sacrifice that not only saved Legolas, but Arthion and I as well. You would do well to remember it!” And with that, Hérion stormed angrily out of the room, off to find his brother. 

Nestadriel sighed heavily and shook her head as she walked away through the door on the other wall, going into a room where there were other Healers waiting to meet with her. She knew that there were no words she could say to Thranduil to make him feel better, or to make him leave Legolas’ side and chase after his older sons to apologize for with he had said. What Thranduil needed was time. After dealing with him for all these years, that was something Nestadriel understood very well. 

Guilt sat upon Thranduil’s shoulders like a pile of rocks. He knew that his words to his children were uncalled for and that he needed to apologize, but he could not bring himself to leave Legolas’ side. As he looked upon his youngest sons’ face, even more guilt and worry seeped into his heart and he took his son’s hand and pressed it to his forehead. 

“Edro hin lín…”* he said softly. 

Legolas stirred again in his rest. His mind was in a dream in some far off place that he had never been before, and the touches of the physical world confused the images that played before his closed eyes. He heard a voice, softly singing…

~ 

Legolas found himself sitting on a rock on the bank of a stream in the middle of a forest. At first, he thought it to be Mirkwood, but he then realized that around him grew fir trees, and he could see mountains looming overhead. Though he knew that there were mountains to the south of his home, he knew that they were dark and full of foul things. He was certain a beautiful place such as this could not be found in the Mountains of Mirkwood. 

Suddenly a voice caught his ear. It was so soft that, at first, Legolas believed that he was hearing the voices of the trees whispering to him. But on a second thought, he realized that it was the voice of a maiden. Legolas turned his head in every direction to try and catch sight of the owner of the voice. His eyes darted through the trees behind him, but he caught no sight of her. Then, in the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a glowing object on the opposite shore. He turned his head. 

There, walking among the trees he saw an elleth. Her waist-length hair was the color of night and it fell about her face, hiding it from Legolas. As she trod about the forest, she seemed to glow. Legolas did not know if the maiden knew that he was there for she did not acknowledge his presence. He did not wish to disturb her, so he stayed where he was and listened to her sing as the scent of pine filled the air. 

“An Elven-maid there was of old,
     A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
   Her shoes of silver-grey.

A star was bound upon her brows,
    A light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs 
   In Lórien the fair.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
   And fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went as light
   As leaf of linden-tree.

Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
   By water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell
   Into the shining pool…”

Legolas found it odd that her Sindarin dialect was distinctly that of Mirkwood, yet she sung a song of Nimrodel, found in Lorien. It had been many years since the elves in Mirkwood had had dealings with the elves under the lordship of Celeborn and Galadriel. 

Suddenly, the elleth seemed to notice that she was not alone and she turned to face Legolas. Her dark eyes bore straight into his blue ones, and for some reason that he could not discern, Legolas felt himself grow frightened. The maiden smiled, and then stepped into the water and crossed to Legolas’ side. Legolas instinctively slid off of the rock he was sitting on and took a step back. 

The maiden walked up on the shore and came up to Legolas, her gaze never leaving his eyes. 

“Be not afraid.” She said ethereally. Legolas said nothing as he stared. This elleth seemed horribly familiar to him, but he could not understand why. He had not many dealings with the elven maidens of his father’s court, and he knew he did not recognize her from the lessons he had attended when he was younger. 

“Who are you?” he asked softly, the sound of his own voice surprising him. 

The maiden smiled and chuckled softly, but did not answer. She approached him and lifted her hand to his face. Legolas stiffened momentarily at her touch. 

“What a fine young elf you have grown into.” The elleth said. Legolas raised an eyebrow.

“Did you know me when I was young?” He asked her. 

“Yes. I have known you all your life, young Legolas.” She replied. Legolas looked thoroughly confused, and the elleth smiled kindly at him. “Be not troubled. You will understand in time.” The raven-haired girl turned and began to walk along the water. She looked back, beckoning him to follow with her expression.

“My lady, please, where am I? The last thing I knew, I was in my homeland, fighting a fierce creature and I know not where I am, or what I am doing here. I’m beginning to doubt that I will understand with time.” Legolas said, catching up to her. The elleth said nothing. In the silence, a thought came to the young elf. 

“Have I died?” He suddenly asked. The maiden looked at him, but kept walking. 

“Nay, Legolas. You are meant to live. There is much you have to do.” She said quietly. The blond-haired ellon was still confused, but he kept walking alongside the maid. After a moment of silence, Legolas continued to ask questions.

“Why am I meant to live?” He asked. 

“Because it is not your time to die.” The elleth replied, chuckling a little. Legolas let out a frustrated grunt, annoyed at his guide for dodging questions. 

“Do not be troubled, Legolas, because you do not understand now. Very soon, your path will become shrouded in darkness and doubt and you will ask the very question you just asked me again. But never forget that you were meant to live.” The raven-haired elf maiden said. Legolas looked deep into her dark eyes and her words rang true in his heart. 

“Do you know the story of your birth?” she asked suddenly. Legolas, confused yet again, furrowed his brow but nodded. 

“My birth killed my mother.” He said quietly. Even though his father and brothers had explained to him time and time again that his mother’s death was not his fault, Legolas had always had it on his heart. And in his mind, he felt responsible for the death of his mother. 

“Nay, Legolas,” the elleth said, taking his hand in hers. “Your mother died because it was her time to die, and it was your time to live. Just because those two events coincided does not mean that you were responsible for it. You have a purpose, Legolas. And that is why you were meant to live then, and why you are meant to live now.” 

Legolas kept his gaze in her eyes and familiarity of the elleth struck him deeply. As he was staring at her, he suddenly felt someone touching his hand. Legolas looked down and saw the ground beneath him disappearing. He looked at the elleth, who too was fading into black. 

“You are meant to live.” The maiden repeated ethereally. 

“Wait! I do not know your name!” Legolas protested as the world around him continued to fade. 

“I love you, my son.” 

Suddenly, the idea clicked in Legolas’ mind and he reached out his hand and shouted “Mother!” 

~

The next thing Legolas knew, he was staring at the ceiling. He felt the pain in his side again, and his vision was blurry. However, he could see that it was dark where he was. There was a blue glow from a window somewhere in the room. It was night. Someone was holding his hand. Legolas turned his head slowly to his right and saw his father leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, asleep. It was Thranduil who was holding his hand. 

Legolas’ mind was cloudy, and the pain was quickly returning. He turned his head back to the ceiling and closed his eyes. 

“Meant to live…” he whispered as he drifted off to sleep again.


Chapter 6 - Many Meetings

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

Also: I HAVE RETURNED! I hope there are still a few left to read this. I'm sorry I fail. I got the world's worst case of writer's block... that lasted for a few years. Whether or not there are still people interested in the story, I'd feel like an epic failure if I didn't finish uploading the story. 

-------------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Six – Many Meetings

The next time Legolas awoke, he was unsure of the time of day, or night, as it were. He could not open his eyes, though he wanted to. The sounds around him were muffled. It was an odd sensation for the prince of Mirkwood – his ears had never failed to hear anything that was within a significant distance. As he became more conscious of things, his senses became less blurry. He could feel the sheets that covered his body and smell the distinct scent of the Healing Houses. Someone was speaking softly near him… speaking to him. 

“…And then Arthion fell out of the tree. You should have seen it, brother. You would have laughed!” It was Hérion, apparently telling Legolas a story. 

“I wouldn’t have been in that tree if you hadn’t gotten my dagger stuck in the upper branches.” Arthion’s voice replied, sounding mildly annoyed. 

“It was self defense!” Hérion said, chuckling. 

Legolas smiled as he conjured up a mental image of one of Hérion and Arthion’s brotherly battles. As the image of his eldest brother falling out of a tree entered his mind, Legolas let out a small, labored laugh. 

“Legolas?!” Arthion’s voice cried out in shock. Legolas’ eyes fluttered open at the sound of a chair falling over and two pairs of feet rushing across the floor. His vision was blurry at first, but within seconds of opening his eyes, Legolas could see his two older brothers staring down at him, eyes wide open. 

“It seems I can’t leave you two alone for too long without someone falling out of a tree,” Legolas said, his voice raspy from not speaking for a long time. 

“Legolas!” both of his brothers shouted happily as large smiles crossed their faces. 

“It’s so kind of you to grace us with your presence, oh fair dreamer!” Hérion joked, trying to disguise his tears. 

“I’m glad I could oblige,” Legolas replied, his voice still raspy and soft. 

“Hérion, you should go fetch Ada, he will be most anxious to see our little brother awake,” Arthion said. 

“Legolas, you should make him stop me, for there will be not a moment’s peace for you once Ada arrives here.” Hérion said, still joking. 

“There will be no peace if he finds that I am awake and he was not notified!” Legolas pointed out. 

“Alas, he speaks truthfully!” Hérion sighed, a laugh still present in his voice. “I shall return in a moment. Ada will be here in less than that, I’m sure,” he said as he left the room. Legolas and Arthion laughed, knowing this much to be true. 

“Legolas,” Arthion said softly, looking into his brother’s blue eyes. Legolas saw that his eldest brother was searching for words, but failing. Arthion was always the strong and silent one; not easily provoked or moved to show any sort of emotion on his sleeve. Legolas knew that his brother was overjoyed to see him alive just by his expression. 

“Legolas… Thank you. Thank you for coming back to us,” Arthion finally said, putting his hand on Legolas’ shoulder. The tell-tale glint of a tear sparkled in the elder’s eyes as he looked down on his little brother. 

“Brother,” Legolas started, but before he could get another word out of his mouth, the door to his room in the Healing Houses burst open and his father stood there, looking particularly winded. A moment of silence overtook the room as Thranduil looked down on his youngest son. It was the first time he’d seen Legolas awake since the day all three of his sons had left on that fateful hunting trip. A thousand images burst forth into the king of Mirkwood’s mind; his son’s birth, his first steps, scraped knees, hurt feelings, laughter, tears, and finally, the image of his son cold and pale on that first dreadful night after the attack. 

“Legolas,” He breathed as he took a step closer to his son’s bed. 

“Hello, Ada.” Legolas said, matter-of-factly, as if there was nothing odd about this situation. 

“Oh, my son!” Thranduil cried, taking three large strides to his son’s bedside. The king of Mirkwood sat on Legolas’ bed and wrapped his arms around his youngest son’s shoulders carefully, so as not to move him too quickly or painfully. 

Thranduil’s embrace was tight, as if clinging to his son would insure his stay on this earth. Legolas said nothing, but slowly moved his arms to return his father’s embrace. His side ached dully, telling him that he was either heavily medicated, or that it had been a significant amount of time since he acquired the injury. A wave of guilt washed over him, knowing that his family’s wait for him must have been long. 

“Ada, I’m so sorry,” Legolas said. Thranduil pulled back to face his son. 

“My son, whatever you are sorry for, you have no need of it. Seeing you living… it has erased all of the pain and sorry and worry,” The king said as two tears rolled down his cheeks. Legolas smiled. 

“Besides, we should be thanking you for saving our sorry skins!” Hérion said. Legolas, Arthion, and Thranduil, despite himself, laughed. 

Legolas soaked up this moment, for he knew he was meant to experience it. He knew he had not returned from sleep by some strange luck or by any miracle. It was his destiny. 

~

A few days went by and Legolas was well on the way to recovery. He was set to return home within a week. But for the meantime, his only concern was how to make that week go faster. However, as he was not the most patient of elves, the time seemed doubled. In an attempt to make the time seem more meaningful, Legolas put his mind toward reading whatever scrolls he could con his brothers and Nestadriel into stealing from the library. His plan was to glean all he could of the battle tactics of Men before he left the Houses of Healing. That way, his mind would always be preoccupied.

“Good morning, Prince Legolas.” A cheery voice came from his door. Legolas put down the scroll he had been reading to see a Healer he had never met before standing at the foot of his bed. She was wearing the traditional white healer’s garb with her dark brown, curly hair half pulled back. Her eyes were as blue as the sky on a sunny day. 

“Good morning,” He said, nodding to acknowledge her. However, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of the confusion on his face – Nestadriel usually came to change his bandages in the morning. This replacement was strange. 

“Lady Nestadriel is helping with a birth this morning,” The young girl said in response to his unspoken questions. “I’ll be changing your dressing today.” 

“Oh… what do they call you?” He asked, feeling a little more awkward than he thought was necessary. 

“Anariel of Mirkwood, your highness…. Now, can you sit up by yourself, or do you need my help?” She asked, coming over to his bedside. 

“I can move myse- ah!” Legolas, in his haste, began to sit himself up too quickly and moved his wound in the wrong way. He let himself fall backwards, but Anariel was at his side quicker than he could hit the bed. 

“Not so hasty, my prince. You’ll re-open your wound.” She said softly, helping him back up. Legolas turned to face her and their eyes locked for a second before they both turned away. 

“Sorry.” Legolas offered. 

“No need to apologize to me, my lord. You’re the one who keeps on hurting himself.” 

Legolas chuckled and looked up at Anariel, who was laughing at him with her smile. “Now, do you need help with your shirt, or can you handle that yourself?” 

“I think I can handle that myself.” He chuckled some more as he began to undo the buttons on his shirt. Anariel went to the bureau opposite his bed and withdrew some fresh bandages from the drawer. When Legolas’ shirt was removed, she took off the old bandages and began to apply medicine and rewrap the wound. Casually, she glanced at the scroll that Legolas had been examining earlier. 

“The History of the Alliance Between Rohan and Gondor? Have you been to either land?” She asked. 

“Nay. I may only dream of such places. My father is, well… overprotective, at best.” 

“And it seems with good reason!” Anariel said, poking softly at the large gash in his side. 

“It was not recklessness that earned me this.” Legolas said with annoyed tone. 

“I apologize, my lord. I only meant it in jest. Truly you have never been to the realm of men? I thought princes could go anywhere.” 

“Hardly. My father barely lets me a mile away from our underground home let alone to other lands. I have never left Mirkwood in my life.” 

“Never?” Anariel said, looking up at him with an alarmed expression. 

“Never in my life. But I dream of those lands every day. I want to visit every corner of this Middle Earth with every fiber of my being… though, these days; it seems like e only traveling I will do will be from the pages of scrolls to my imagination.” Legolas said sadly. Anariel finished the last wrap around his wound and looked up at him with a sympathetic expression on her face. 

“Where would you like to go next, then?” she asked. 

“Pardon?” 

“Where would you like to go next?” Anariel repeated, taking up the scroll and shaking it slightly for emphasis. Legolas smiled. 

“Númenor, perhaps.” 

“Not only a daunting journey across land and sea but across time as well? Splendid! Pray, if I bring back a scroll, will you tell me what it contains? I am curious as you may be, and eager to study the world of men. All I have ever known is Mirkwood and Silvan Elves.” 

Legolas laughed. “Bring the scroll and we shall go off on this adventure together, then.” 

Anariel smiled and got up to leave. “I shall bring it back later this afternoon?” 

“I shall look forward to it.” 

Just then, Hérion walked into Legolas’ room. Anariel gave a short bow to Legolas, then turned to his brother and did the same before leaving the room. Hérion gave Legolas a confused smirk and pointed to the door. 

“That was not Nestadriel.” 

“Nay, she was not.” 

“Oh Legolas, you maiden-slayer you! What trouble are you getting yourself into now?” his older brother teased. Legolas smiled and shook his head, rolling his eyes. 

“Have you only come to tease me?” Legolas asked. 

“Sadly, no.” Hérion replied with a sarcastic smile on his face. He stepped forward and sat on the end of Legolas’ bed. “I have news. There are stirrings to the south of an uprising in Orcs.” 

“This does not bode well.” Legolas said grimly. Hérion shook his head, his expression darkening.

“No, it does not. There are rumors… though they are just that; rumors… that the leader of the dark forces in the south, Necromancer, is really the Dark Lord.” Hérion said softly. “They say that he is trying to take all of Mirkwood.” 

Legolas felt his innards fall to the bottom of his body cavity. No coherent words came to his mind to form sentences to react to his brother. Only a concerned stare replied for him. 

“They are just rumors, but a shadow is growing over Mirkwood. There were days when sunlight dropped down between the trees, but we have not seen the sun for days now. I do not know what exactly it is, brother, but dark times lie ahead. Father does not want me alarming you with this ill news, but I thought you should know. Be prepared, Legolas.” Hérion said. 

“Be prepared for what?” 

“I fear I do not know.” 

~

Later that day, Legolas pushed aside evil thoughts when Anariel returned with four rolls of parchment on Númenor. They read them together, Anariel sitting cross-legged in front of Legolas on his bed, her head resting on her palms. 

“In an hour unlooked for by Men this doom befell, on the nine and thirtieth day since the passing of the fleets. Then suddenly fire burst from the Meneltarma, and there came a mighty wind and a tumult of the earth, and the sky reeled, and the hills slid, and mighty Númenor went down into the sea, with all its children and its wives and its maidens and its ladies proud; and all its gardens and its halls and towers, its tombs and its riches, and its jewels and its webs and its things painted and carven and its laughter and its mirth and its wisdom and its lore: they vanished forever. And last of all the mounting wave, green and cold and plumed with foam, climbing over the land, took to its bosom Tar-Míriel the Queen, fairer than silver or ivory or pearls. Too late she strove to ascend the steep ways of the Meneltarma to the holy place; for the waters overtook her, and her cry was lost in the roaring of the wind.”* Legolas with a sigh, put down the third roll of parchment. 

“It sank!?” Anariel exclaimed. 

“It would appear to be so.” Legolas said. 

“Just like that?” 

“What do you mean, ‘just like that’? Were you not listening? The earth shook and erupted in fire and water!” Legolas laughed with an astonished look on his face. “It was far more catastrophic than ‘just like that’!”

“Well, I knew that Númenor was obliterated, but I thought that there was a large battle and catastrophic fighting…But did no one survive?” Anariel said in a frustrated voice, taking up the last page of the parchment. 

“It is your turn to read – you tell me!” Legolas laughed. Anariel’s never-ending curiousity and frankness amused him and endeared him to her. Legolas had never met an elleth such as her and watched her intently.

“Very well then.” Anariel said, sitting up straight and holding the parchment out, mocking a distinguished face. She cleared her throat, and Legolas smiled at her and chuckled. Anariel eyed him before beginning to read. 

“But whether or no it were that Amandil came indeed to Valinor and Manwe hearkened to his prayer, by grace of the Valar Elendil and his sons and their people were spared from the ruin of that day...” *

“Anariel?” The sudden voice ended their reading. Both Legolas and Anariel looked up to see Nestadriel standing there in the doorway, looking slightly confused and frustrated at the pair. Anariel dropped the scroll. 

“Lady Nestadriel, I - ” 

“You are supposed to be making rounds.” Nestadriel said firmly. 

“Aye, my lady.” Anariel said quietly. She quickly stood up from Legolas’ bed and went to the door. Before leaving Legolas’ room, she turned and bowed. 

“Tell me how it ends!” She said with a smile before she bolted out the door. 

Nestadriel whirled around and watched with an annoyed face the younger elleth leave. “Heavens.” She exclaimed quietly. “My Lord,” Nestadriel continued, turning towards Legolas, “I apologize for her impropriety, she is…” 

“Nestadriel, I am happy she came.” He said simply. 

“I am glad of that, Prince, but I promise she will not bother you again.” 

Legolas looked confused for a moment and then laughed. “No, please see to it that she does!” 

Nestadriel laughed, shook her head, and left. “Aye, my prince.” 

~


*Excerpt from The Silmarillion: Akallabêth, “The Downfall of Númenor”. I am in no way claiming to own The Silmarillion, Tolkien’s works, or anything related to them.


Chapter 7 - Night

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

-----------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Seven – Night


Legolas was awakened that night by a loud scuffle outside his room. At first, he thought that one of the night healers had dropped something and he closed his eyes again, but when his hearing focused in on the noises, he realized that what had awakened him were the moans of an injured or sick elf. Several elves, to be exact. 

Slowly, Legolas sat up and went to the door that led into the other healing rooms to see what was going on. His side ached slightly, and he wrapped his arm around his body as if to hold his wound in place. He paced quietly over to the door and opened it a crack. 

“Take him to the back, he is in need of critical care,” Legolas heard Nestadriel say. He could see the healer’s back as she instructed one of her underlings to move the injured elf whom was on a stretcher. Legolas could not see much of the elf whom was being moved, but what he could see of him was covered completely in blood. Legolas covered his mouth. 

“What happened?!” He thought. 

Though, Legolas did not move back, or close the door again. His curiosity ate at him and he stayed. Nestadriel moved out of his line of vision and Legolas could then see the entire room adjacent to his. Three elves lay on healing beds, each with their own severe wound and several healers buzzing about them to stop their bleeding. The injured elves were wearing border patrol tunics, Legolas noticed. 

Suddenly, a healer stepped into his line of vision, facing his direction. It was Anariel. Legolas took a quick step back, but in doing so moved his wound uncomfortably and a small, startled cry escaped his mouth. Anariel looked straight at him. Immediately her expression was changed as she recognized Legolas and she opened the door and came inside. 

“My Prince, you are to be in bed,” She said, taking his arm and slowly leading him back to where he belonged. 

“What happened?” Legolas asked as Anariel helped him down onto his bed.
 
“Never you mind, my lord. Did you hurt yourself when you moved? Let me check your wound,” she said dismissively. 

“Lady Anariel, I am fine. What happened to those elves?” Legolas persisted. 

Anariel glared at him with fiery eyes for a moment. Then, looking away she unbuttoned the side of Legolas’ sleepwear and began to inspect his wound as she spoke. 

“I know not for certain. They keep on muttering about an ambush and Orcs. Each of them has a poisoned wound, one has an injury from a spear. The other two have several arrow wounds.” She said seriously. “You’re bleeding.” Anariel noticed verbally. She began to unwrap Legolas’ dressing to replace it, but Legolas put his hand around hers to stop her. 

“Do not worry about me, go back to those who need your help most.” 

“Lady Nestadriel will murder me if I let this go unchecked, my lord. Besides, I am not needed – they have more healers in that room than they have use for.” 

“Lady…” 

“I will not leave, Lord Legolas.” Anariel said defiantly as she gave him another angry glare. Legolas looked at her with an equally angry stare. A moment of complete silence and static passed between them. Neither moved as they stared at each other, waiting for the other’s will to break. Finally, both gave up simultaneously. Legolas turned his head the other way and Anariel began to unwrap his dressing. The room was silent for a few more moments before Legolas broke the quiet. 

“Will they live?

“It is not certain.” Anariel replied, not looking up from her work. She reached into the drawer of the stand next to his bed and pulled out an antiseptic and cloth. She poured the liquid onto the cloth and dabbed it on Legolas’ wound. 

“Ah!” Legolas said, exhaling sharply as his wound stung. 

“That’s what you get for moving around.” Anariel said, unmoved. 

“I appreciate your sympathy.” Legolas replied. 

“What sympathy?” Anariel said, smirking at him. Legolas chuckled. What a mystery this elleth was to him. 

“Well, then, I at least appreciate your honesty.” He replied. Anariel smiled and said nothing as she continued on with her work. Legolas watched her intently. Her curly dark hair bounced a little as she worked and her bright eyes darted about. Her fingers softly brushed against him as she rebound his wound. Suddenly, Anariel looked at him and Legolas turned away, startled. 

“My lord?” Anariel asked, a smile in her voice. 

“Apologies. My mind drifted and my gaze did not follow it.” He excused himself, trying not to blush. 

“Oh.” Anariel said quietly. Legolas saw a little pink flash across Anariel’s cheek as she finished wrapping his wound. “There. You’re all fixed now.” She said, smiling at the prince. 

“Thank you,” Legolas said. Anariel stood up at his bedside and pulled the covers of his bed back over his body. 

“Now, this time, please stay in bed.” Anariel said in a mocking tone. 

“Yes, my lady.” Legolas said, smirking playfully.

“Good night, my lord.” Anariel replied as she smiled and walked out the door into the chaotic adjacent room. When she had closed the door behind her, Anariel let out a deep breath and tried to clear her head of the buzzing feeling that she was experiencing. 

Behind the door, Legolas settled down in bed and tried to sleep, but could not bring himself to slumber for nearly an hour for his mind and his heart would not stop their racing. 

~

The next morning, Arthion came to debrief Legolas on the nighttime attack that had been sprung on their comrades in the next room. 

“Glandur, Meldiron, and Feredir were ambushed on the south side of the Forest River, just southwest of our halls.” Arthion said. “Feredir said that the Orcs numbered at least fifteen.”

“This does not bode well,” Legolas said. 

“Nay, it does not. Especially with the festival so near. I fear elves will venture out despite this catastrophe.” Arthion replied grimly. 

“Do we know why the Orcs were so near to the Forest River?” 

“Nay, though Glandur said that he heard one of the Orcs shouting orders about finding Dwarves.” 

“Dwarves? In Mirkwood?” Legolas asked, puzzled. 

“It seems odd, but we have heard reports from scouts out west that there was a party of Dwarves headed in the direction of Mirkwood, though what a Dwarf would ever leave his cave for is beyond my understanding.” Legolas looked frustrated and puzzled, so Arthion pursued another subject.

“Hérion tells me that you have an elleth friend.” He said suggestively. Legolas shot him a disapproving look. 

“Hérion talks too much.” Legolas said angrily. “She brought me a scroll from the library.” 

“And…?” Arthion teased. 

“And what? There is nothing else to tell.” 

“Alright.” Arthion chuckled. Legolas glared at his eldest brother, knowing that he was not being believed. Arthion quickly changed the subject again. “Father is meeting with some of his advisors this morning and then he will be by to check up on you. I thought I would warn you so you could prepare yourself.” 

“I appreciate that.” Legolas said. Arthion smiled at his youngest brother and got up from his chair. 

“We look forward to you coming home, Legolas.” 

“So do I!” Legolas replied enthusiastically. Arthion turned to leave. 

“Farewell, little brother. Good luck with Father.” He said, walking out of the room. 

“Indeed.” Legolas said. The young prince then fetched the scrolls sitting on the stand next to his bed and tried to focus on them, to no avail. His brain was busy processing Orcs, Dwarves, and Anariel.


Chapter 8 - Visitors

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 
Also, at this point in the story line, we are coming up on the stories that are chronicled in “The Hobbit”. I make assumptions in this chapter about the Wood Elves’ feast in the forest that may not be true. I have not found any foundation for the feast detailed in any book that I have read thus far, so if I’m way off-base, PLEASE let me know. 

-----------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Eight – Visitors

Only days after the incident at night, Legolas was released from the Houses of Healing. The youngest son of Thranduil was ecstatic to be up and walking around again, even if he did have to move slower than usual. He did, however, miss his encounters with Anariel, so he arranged to meet her in the library whenever possible so they could continue their exploration of the world of men. 

In only a matter of a month, the Feast of the Forest was upon them and the halls of the Elvenking bustled with activity to prepare. Extra precautions were taken so that Orcs would not intrude upon their merrymaking, and as this happened Legolas also received permission from Nestadriel and his father to participate in the festivities. He was all too excited to tell Anariel when he walked into the library that day. 

Legolas found Anariel that day sitting near a window where the sun could come in, reading a scroll. Before he approached her, Legolas stopped and observed her for a moment. This elleth was a puzzle to the prince, and he had enchanted her somehow. Her playful nature and insatiable curiosity endeared her to him, while her strong will commanded his respect, which he happily gave. And, beyond that, Legolas could not dismiss that she was potentially the most beautiful elleth he had ever encountered. Especially when she sat in the sun. 

Deciding that he would rather not get caught staring, Legolas pushed forward and came to greet Anariel. 

“Good afternoon, Anariel.” He said cheerfully. 

“Good day, my prince. How do you fare this afternoon?” She replied as she smiled at him up from her scroll. 

“Excellent.” Legolas returned. 

“And what makes this day so excellent?” Anariel asked as Legolas sat beside her. The prince looked at the maiden and smiled at her before replying. 

“Would you go to the feast with me tonight?” 

Anariel’s mouth opened in surprise, for she knew that Thranduil was not keen on letting his youngest son out after what had landed him in the Houses of Healing. After the initial surprise, Anariel smiled. 

“I suppose I could go with you,” She said mockingly. “Though I will have to turn down many other handsome, eligible ellon to do so.” She sighed. 

“Ha ha.” Legolas chortled sarcastically. “I hope you do not mind that there will most likely be a guard following me most of the night. Father did not expressly say that he would order such a thing, but I’m certain he will.” 

Anariel shrugged her shoulders. “That just means that I have aide to keep you out of trouble.” She teased. 

Legolas snorted slightly. “I’m glad you find this amusing.” He said. “Shall I meet you tonight at dusk?” 

“You shall.” Anariel replied, smiling cheerfully.

~ 

That night after sunset, Legolas and Anariel joined the royal family at the head of the Feast of the Forest, which was a yearly celebration held in honor of Legolas’ departed grandfather, Oropher. Legolas had oft been told that King Oropher had thrown many a celebration in his day. When he passed, Thranduil instated a celebration to honor his accomplishments; among them being the establishment of Greenwood the Great, which was now Mirkwood. The main celebration took place where the royal family was seated, but many more small parties took to clearings nearby for a more personal fête.

Arthion and Hérion had both invited elleth to join them, and they sat in order of their birth along with Legolas at the right and left sides of Thranduil. All of the royal family wore traditional Wood-Elven crowns of leaves. The elleth accompanying them wore crowns of flowers.  The long table was laid out in a semi-circle about the clearing in the forest. Many elves were seated watching some of the younger elves dance, sing, and play instruments in the circle created by the table. 

“This is a splendid display!” Anariel remarked as she watched several couples of elleth and ellon dance about. She clapped along with the music as many of her table mates were. 

“Aye, indeed it is!” Legolas said. The young prince couldn’t remember being this happy in a very long time. The days previous had been dark and trying, and the atmosphere was so merry about him that he couldn’t help but feel totally at ease. Even his father seemed to be far more relaxed than usual. 

“Legolas,” Hérion said, leaning close to his brother’s ear, “Take my advice and ask your lady to a dance, or risk loosing her to a better elf!” he teased. 

“Brother, you are ceaseless.” Legolas sighed. Nonetheless, when the next jig started, he couldn’t keep himself in his seat. 

“Lady, will you dance with me?” 

“I suppose so…” Anariel said, feigning discontentment. Legolas laughed at her never-ending teasing. He stood and offered her his hand. Anariel put her hand in his and let Legolas pull her up and lead her to the dance floor. When they reached the circle of dancers, Legolas noticed that an elf dressed in the garb of a guard was speaking in Thranduil’s ear, and the Elvenking did not look pleased, but Legolas dismissed it as he took Anariel’s waist and led her in the jig. 

“I hope, my prince, that you are well enough to dance this jig without injuring yourself. I have not the supplies to come to your rescue!” Anariel laughed as they danced about. 

“I assure you, my lady, that I am well enough to dance without springing a leak in my side!” Legolas returned. Anariel made a face. 

“That was vile.” She said. 

“You asked!” Legolas laughed. 

“That I did,” Anariel replied. 

The two danced several dances together. It was not long before Legolas noticed his eldest brother, Arthion, on the dance floor with his partner, Elaneth. The youngest son of Thranduil had not spoken much with Arthion on the matter, but it was evident that the eldest of Thranduil’s sons was quite taken with Elaneth. They spent much time together, and their intimacy was displayed even now as they danced so closely. Legolas was so happy for his eldest brother. 

Legolas thought of himself and Anariel as they danced and laughed together. He felt close to Anariel, as close as he had probably ever been with any other elf, including his brothers and father. Together they shared many secrets in the short time that they had known each other. The prince wondered if this intimacy was brought on by the absence of his mother, but he quickly shooed that thought away. Nestadriel the Healer had often been his maternal figure, if only from a distance. Anariel was someone different to him. 

He looked in her bright eyes that shone with laughter as she looked at him. Her dark curls bounced about her face as they danced about and her freckled nose wrinkled in her giggles. He knew not why, or how, but Anariel had ensnared him, and he pulled her closer, noticing the smell of wildflowers about her. The elleth’s cheeks suddenly were slightly pink. The music grew loud in their ears, and they followed it as the beat accelerated, spinning and skipping as the dance form called for. 

“I do say, my prince, that if you look into my eyes any more intently, you might just start catching glimpses of my thoughts.” Anariel said, a bit of laughter in her voice. 

“Maybe that is my intent, my lady.” 

Anariel’s eyes grew slightly larger and a look of wonder came over her face. Her lips parted as if to say something, but before her words could form, all of the music suddenly stopped and so did their dance. 

Legolas and Anariel looked in the direction that all of their kinsfolk stared, at and the edge of the clearing to their surprise, stood a bewildered looking dwarf. 

Abruptly, the ceremony ended and all returned instantly to the Elvenking’s halls. 

~ 

Shortly afterwards, Legolas stood with his brothers and other dignitaries of Mirkwood in their father’s throne room listening to his interrogation of Thorin Oakenshield. Thranduil looked very stern as he sat on the wooden throne and peered down at the dwarf. Thorin himself looked rather flustered, angry, and rather hungry. Though, the perception of Thorin being hungry probably came more from his repeated words of being in such a state, rather than actually appearing to be starved. 

“Why did you and your folk three times try to attack my people at their merrymaking?” asked Thranduil. 

“We did not attack them,” Thorin replied indignantly, “we came to them because we were starving!” 

“Where are your friends now, and what are they doing?” Thranduil continued. 

“I don’t know, but I expect starving in the forest.” Thorin shot back. Thranduil was un-amused.

“What were you doing in the forest?” 

“Looking for food and drink, because we were starving.” The dwarf replied matter-of-factly. Thranduil was far less amused at this. 

“But what brought you into the forest at all?” He asked angrily. Thorin pursed his lips and refused to answer. 

Legolas watched the staring contest taking place between Elven and Dwarven lords uneasily. The young prince was entirely certain that Thranduil would not let Thorin get away with not explaining himself, but he often had read about the stubbornness of dwarves, and was uncertain about Thorin caving in to the Elvenking’s requests. After five minutes of complete silence, Thranduil spoke again. 

“Very well!” said Thranduil, “Take him away and keep him safe, until he feels inclined to tell the truth, even if he waits a hundred years.” *

Thorin growled and looked angrily upon Thranduil as two guards moved forward to put him in bonds and lead him to their prison. The dwarf grumbled quite angrily as he was led away, complaining about being innocent of any crime but hunger.

“You are imprisoning him for being starving, Adar?” Arthion asked once Thorin had been whisked away and Thranduil had stood from his throne. The second eldest of Thranduil’s sons gave his father a confused face. Thranduil regarded his sons for a moment before answering. 

“Nay, Hérion. I am imprisoning him for lying before the Elvenking.” Thranduil said. 

“Father, I do not believe that you can prove that he is not hungry…” Legolas began. 

“No, I am sure that it is not a lie. However, refusing to speak on his matter of business in Mirkwood is a lie of omission before the King, and I will not have it.” His father interrupted. 

“But Adar, why is it a matter of such importance to you?” Hérion asked. Thranduil shot his son a look that spoke of frustration and anger. 

“Because he is a dwarf, need I remind you that we have not had good dealings with dwarves in nearly an age?” Thranduil replied. “That aside, there is only one reason a dwarf would leave his cave: treasure. And if there is treasure to be found in Mirkwood, it does not belong to the dwarves, it belongs to the elves who live and defend their home here. Arthion,” Thranduil said, turning to his eldest. 

“Adar?”

“Assemble a group of scouts and search the forest for his friends at first light tomorrow. I wish to discover their intentions here as soon as possible.” 

“As you command, Adar.” Arthion replied.  And with a nod of his head, Thranduil left his three sons, no longer wishing to converse on the subject. 

“Certainly, we must find that treasure, for there is not nearly enough in the vaults of Mirkwood.” Hérion said sarcastically. Truly, the treasures of Mirkwood were a sight to behold and the Woodland Realm was not poor. 

“He is right, though.” Legolas defended his father. “If there is some hidden treasure within the borders of Mirkwood, it belongs to those of us who live here, not those who wish to take it away from the Realm.” 

“Despite the fact that there is far more gold and silver in the vaults than will ever be needed here?” Hérion replied. 

“No, Hérion. This is much more than just treasure hunting.” Arthion returned. “This is politics and political assets. Adar is defending what rightfully belongs to the elves of Mirkwood.” 

“Ah, politics. A messy business, I say.” Hérion noted.

“Aye, indeed.” Legolas laughed as he turned to leave the throne room to return to his bedchambers and mull over the evening in his head. When he arrived at his room, he changed into his bed clothes and flopped rather un-gracefully down on his bed with a sigh. He stared at the ceiling for a long while trying to clear his mind before he went to sleep. 

What would have happened between himself and Anariel if Thorin Oakenshield hadn’t walked in on the Feast of the Forest? The thought made Legolas compulsively turn on his side, as if to move away from thinking about it. Not because he was horrified, but rather, he was confused. Legolas had never felt his stomach all aflutter before, or his head so foggy, just at the thought of one elleth. What was happening to him, he wondered? 

It was a long while before the youngest son of Thranduil managed to drift off to sleep and dreams of dancing and the scent of wildflowers.

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* The dialogue from the interrogation of Thorin Oakenshield was taken directly from The Hobbit, “Flies and Spiders”, page 153 of the Houghton Mifflin Company publication. Please note that I did add characterizing elements extra-text that do not appear in the original excerpt. I am in no way claiming to own this dialogue, but am using it to fulfill this story as a history of Legolas.


Chapter 9 - Brush with Destiny

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

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The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Nine – Brush with Destiny

Legolas, for probably the millionth time in his life, was listening to his brother and father argue about business of the realm over lunch. Thranduil, who was rather disturbed by the visitation of dwarves in Mirkwood, had ordered several searching parties out into the woods to find the treasure that could potentially be there and the dwarves themselves. This had left security around the Elvenking’s halls difficult to maintain, and Hérion, who was usually in charge of such things, was rather out of sorts over it all. 

“Father, I cannot be in two places at once.” He protested, stabbing a bit of his pheasant. 

“Hérion,” Thranduil said, swallowing some food, “You may be with one group while sending messengers to the other. It is not that difficult.” 

“Messengers, yes, but I also need guards for those messengers. The forest is a dangerous place and there is no guarantee that if I send a messenger out, he will actually be able to deliver his message. It’s a waste of personnel.” 

“I see no other way.” Thranduil replied. 

Legolas glanced sideways at his brother and father, rather bored with this topic of conversation. Arthion noticed this, and broke his silence. 

“I do.” He interjected. 

Hérion and Thranduil turned their heads to the oldest son. “What say you, then?” Thranduil asked. 

“Split Hérion’s guard into two, make Hérion’s division into a second outer defense, and give Legolas command of the remaining interior guard.” He answered simply. Of course, Arthion knew full well that Thranduil would not agree, but Arthion would not let this opportunity pass. He glanced at his youngest brother, whose eyes were wide and staring at him, asking the question; “do you know what you’re doing?” 

“Out of the question.” Thranduil stated simply.

“It was not a question, Adar. It was a suggestion.” Arthion replied. 

“And a good one at that.” Hérion interjected. “If we establish a second defense of our home, Arthion’s can move out farther and we can widen the range of safety in Mirkwood. It will make it easier to find the dwarves, or any other enemy we might espy in the woods.” 

“You both forget the fact that your youngest brother has no military training.” 

“To the contrary, Adar,” Legolas said quietly, “I’ve been reading extensively on it. I’ve memorized nearly all the scrolls in the library.” 

Thranduil looked livid. He certainly did not want Legolas in any precarious situation at all, considering recent events. However, considering his sons’ ages, it was becoming increasingly difficult to justify his overprotection over his son. Even after the spider attack. 

“I will not put Legolas in danger.” He spat. 

“What danger, Ada?” Hérion asked. “The Interior Guard protects the caves! It is not as if he would be venturing out into the forest every day! His duties would be restricted to the immediate vicinity of our home. And he would be daily surrounded by skilled soldiers. It sounds just as, if not less, dangerous as sitting in the library all day.” 

Legolas had never really seen his father turn that color before. Nor had he seen him so utterly frustrated or angry. The youngest prince kept his mouth shut, having no desire to anger his father further, but he desperately wanted this task. This was his chance – he knew that he was meant to live for something, and this could be the doorway to whatever the “something” was. 

Thranduil looked over at his youngest. For some reason, at this moment in time, Thranduil’s mind brought him to think of what his wife used to look like when she was angry and disappointed. From there, his mind quickly traveled to what his son Arthion had once said: 

“Do not punish Legolas for the death of Naneth.”

The Elvenking sighed. He knew and realized that if Almwen were still alive, he would probably not be so fussy over his youngest son, and if that his wife could see him now, she would surely have more than a lot to say regarding his over protection of Legolas. 

“Legolas,” Thranduil said exasperatedly.

“Aye, Adar?” 

“You will go with Hérion after lunch to learn about the duties of the Interior Guard.” 

There was a loud clank of silverware falling on dishes as the shock hit Legolas like a wave and he dropped his fork. Hérion laughed while Arthion sat with his mouth agape. 

“Hannon le, Adar.” Legolas said, his happiness positively dripping from his words. 

“Do not thank me, Legolas. Someone far greater than I wills this.” Thranduil replied, excusing himself from the table. 

The Elvenking’s sons all watched their father leave with puzzled looks as he evacuated the room. Legolas was the first to speak. 

“What did he mean by that?” He asked. 

Arthion chuckled. “I can only guess.” 

~

Hérion could barely contain his laughter. It was as if Legolas was ten years old again, poking and peering at every new encounter. Currently, his brother was scouring maps of Mirkwood and their underground home that were housed in the Interior Guard’s headquarters, memorizing all of the tunnels and passageways that the Interior Guard used. Legolas was ecstatic to discover that there were tunnels that led to above-ground observatories where he could assign himself to guard duty. 

“Father won’t even have to know!” Legolas said with a large smile on his face. 

“No, he will not. But if he finds out, that spider will seem like nothing in the face of his anger.” Hérion chuckled. 

“He won’t find out if no one tells him.” Legolas replied, eyeing his brother carefully. 

“Legolas, far be it for me to tattle on you. I want you out of these caves and out of my hair! I will no longer have need to tell you all about the forest. You can find out for yourself.” His older brother laughed. Legolas smiled widely at him. 

“Alas, it is late. Father will be expecting us for dinner shortly.” Hérion said, sighing. Suddenly, one of the guards came running into the room, sounding out of breath. 

“My lords, Prince Arthion has returned from his search for the dwarves. His party found them in the woods and they now come before King Thranduil. The king wishes for you two to be there.” He reported. 

“Thank you, Mardion. We’re on our way.” Hérion said, nodding his head. “Shall we go, Captain?” He asked his brother. Legolas beamed. 

“Aye, Captain.” 

When Legolas and Hérion arrived in their father’s hall, two of the guards were unbinding the very weathered-looking prisoners. Twelve dwarves there were standing before the king, and each looked as surly as the first that had entered their halls. Thranduil surveyed them carefully from his wooden throne. He was drumming his fingers against his oaken staff as if pondering what he was going to ask the dwarves. One of them saved him the thinking. 

“Where is Thorin?” One asked meekly. 

“That I will not reveal to you unless you first reveal to me your purpose here.” Thranduil replied. 

“We are hungry and lost.” Replied yet another. 

“That is apparent.” The Elvenking said, annoyed. “What brought you to Mirkwood?” 

None spoke. 

“What were you searching for?” Thranduil continued to press. 

“Who said we were searching for anything at all?” The largest dwarf replied. 

“What have we done, O king?” said one, who looked to be the oldest. “Is it a crime to be lost in the forest, to be hungry and thirsty, to be trapped by spiders? Are the spiders your tame beasts or your pets, if killing them makes you angry?” *

Legolas knew that the dwarf had stricken a nerve, considering his recent attack, and he saw Thranduil’s eyes flare with all the fury of a dragon. 

“It is a crime to wander in my realm without leave.” He said furiously. “Do you forget that you were in my kingdom, using the road that my people made? Did you not three times pursue and trouble my people in the forest and rouse the spiders with your riot and clamour? After all the disturbance you have made I have a right to know what brings you here, and if you will not tell me now, I will keep you all in prison until you have learned sense and manners!” *

Thranduil turned to the guards who had unbound the dwarves. “Take them to separate cells so that they may not see one another. Give them food and drink, but do not let them beyond the doors of their prisons until they are willing to speak more openly about what I wish to know.” He ordered. Hérion turned to Legolas. 

“These prisoners will be part of your duty.” He said quietly. “They will not need to be guarded all day, I think, but you will need to assign one elf to each cell to check in on them every once in a while and to deliver meals.” 

Legolas nodded as he watched the dwarves being led away. The task seemed simple enough, Legolas thought. Little did he know, however, that there was one trespasser that they had missed who was lurking just behind him. The forgotten party was none other than Bilbo Baggins, wearing the One Ring of power and concealed by it. The Hobbit watched the dwarves file out one by one from behind Legolas’ legs, thinking sadly to himself about how he was going to get out of this mess. Not thinking, he let out a sigh. 

Legolas turned and glanced behind him, looking for who had made that noise. Not seeing anyone, the youngest son of Thranduil shrugged and followed after the dwarves to see to his duties. 

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* Marked passages were taken from The Hobbit; Barrels out of Bond, page 155 of the Houghton Mifflin Company publication. Please note that I did add characterizing elements extra-text that do not appear in the original excerpt. I am not claiming to own this dialogue or text, nor am I reproducing it for profit. I am using it to add explanation to Legolas’ missing history.


Chapter 10 - A Busy Morning

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

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The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Ten – A Busy Morning


Hardly three weeks later, Legolas was standing in front of his father in the very spot where he had nearly stepped on Bilbo Baggins when the party of dwarves had come before Thranduil for the first time. However, this time it was Thranduil’s own son he was reprimanding, rather than dwarves. The young prince felt absolutely ridiculous standing there in front of his father. It had barely been three weeks and he had already botched his first major responsibility. This was not going to go well.

“How did they escape?” Thranduil asked gravely. 

“We know not. Those who were guarding stole away to the wine cellars last night and apparently had much to drink, they fell asleep and sometime shortly thereafter, the chief guard’s keys were stolen. They may not come or go through the main doors… we assume that they escaped through the water passageway used to transport goods to Lake-town.” Legolas reported. 

Thranduil looked angrily at his son for several minutes. As far as the Elvenking was concerned, this was ground for him to remove his son from duty so he could stop fretting over him. However, he knew that if Legolas were any other elf in charge of the Interior Guard, the result of this meeting would be only dignity lost and a stern warning, and his other sons would most certainly call him on it. 

“What efforts have been made to recover them?” Thranduil sighed, pushing his thoughts away to finish business first. 

“Arthion and Hérion’s troops have been alerted; there are parties searching on both sides of the river as we speak.” Legolas replied. 

“Good.” Thranduil said, not revealing any emotion. He looked away momentarily to gather his thoughts again.

“Adar…” Legolas said, looking down at his feet and breathing in deeply. Thranduil cast his glance back on his son. “I’m sorry.” Legolas finished. 

“While I am inclined to blame you for it, Legolas, this is not entirely your fault. See that those who were lax in their job are punished. Return to your duties and we shall discuss this later.” Thranduil said tiredly. He needed time to consider what he wanted to do. 

Legolas nodded and left the hall with his eyes on his feet. Never in his life had he felt as embarrassed as this. As he was leaving his father’s throne, he saw Arthion approaching. His eldest brother had a look on his face that Legolas had never seen before. He looked ill, but not entirely, and he looked nervous and excited. The air around Arthion was pulsating twitchy and nervous energy. 

“Arthion,” Legolas said, “do you fare well?” 

“I think so.” Arthion replied, slowing his pace down to speak with his brother for a moment. 

“You think so?” Legolas laughed a little. 

“Legolas, I…” Arthion paused to look around. He saw that the elves nearby were enthralled in other business so he then leaned in close to speak in a low voice. “… I want to marry Elaneth.” 

Legolas pulled away in a moment of shock and shook his head violently. “What?!” He nearly shouted. 

“SHH!” Arthion scolded giving his brother no less than a glare of death. The two brothers quickly glanced around to see a few of the elves in the vicinity look in their direction and then turn away again. 

“Marry Elaneth?” Legolas asked again in a hushed voice. 

“Yes, but I need to ask Adar first for his approval. I wish not to cause problems in our family. ... I adore her very much, Legolas. And with the days growing darker as they have been…” Arthion’s voice trailed away, but both understood the unspoken sentiment. 

“Arthion, Adar will be happy of this news as I am. We all know how you care for her, despite what you do not say to us, it is apparent in your gazes towards her. Go, speak to Adar and brighten his day.” Legolas said with a smile. Arthion grinned back at him and put his hand on Legolas’ shoulder. 

“Hannon le, brother.” 

Legolas nodded and stepped away from Arthion, gesturing for him to enter the throne room. Arthion nodded and strode forward and Legolas watched him go, beaming with pride for his older brother, while secretly thanking whichever of the Valar may have been smiling down on him that day, for now Thranduil would certainly not be thinking about dwarves at dinner. 

However, at the same time, Legolas was slightly perplexed. If Arthion were to marry, then Elaneth would be his sister. And then Arthion would have elflings. Legolas had never felt comfortable around elflings, they always get themselves into things they shouldn’t and are far to curious for their own good. And when would Legolas spend time with his brother after he married? Lately, they had hardly spent any time together at all in the past few weeks, the idea of rarely seeing his eldest brother at all bothered him more and more. His smile turned upside down as he headed down the hallway. 

“My lord?” A familiar voice inquired from the nearest wall. Legolas stopped and turned to see Anariel peering up at him from a bench. 

“Lady Anariel, how do you fare?” Legolas asked, suddenly smiling again. 

“Certainly better than you do, it appears. Tell me, has a rain cloud set itself above your head to cause that look upon your face?” She asked as she stood and walked over to her prince, observing him with concerned eyes. 

“No, I…” Legolas stopped when he saw Anariel’s expression. She was smirking at him with a look that told of her disbelief. The young prince cast a glance around, seeing that no one was near to hear him speak. “I will tell you because I believe you are unlikely to spread this gossip as other elleth would,” He began. 

“I am happy that you hold me in such high regard, my lord!” Anariel giggled. 

“Arthion wishes to be married to Elaneth.” Legolas said softly. Immediately, Anariel’s giggles desisted, but her smile continued. 

“This is wonderful news!” She exclaimed quietly. “Elaneth will be so happy, she speaks of nothing but your brother these days…” Anariel’s voice trailed off when she saw the smile fading faster from Legolas’ face. “Why does this bother you so?” 

“I am happy for Arthion, truly, I am. But to be forthright, I fear this change.” Legolas replied. “I wonder if I will lose my brother.” 

Anariel smiled kindly at him in a sort of amused way. “You will certainly not lose your brother. Prince Arthion is far too devoted to you to abandon you in any capacity. You have an uncommon bond with your brothers, Legolas. You are living proof of your mother’s last wishes in the world, and I do not think that either of your brothers would abandon you so easily. In you, they see their mother every day.” She assured him. 

Legolas suddenly felt tears forming in his eyes that he couldn’t explain. Something about the mention of his mother, his brothers, and devotion made him feel emotional. However, rather than give in, he smiled and cast a glanced at the ceiling while he blinked his tears away. 

“How is it that you erase all rain with sun?” He asked, laughing a little. 

“I know not, but they named me for it. So alas, I am doomed to chase away every rain cloud!” She joked, making a shooing motion with her hands. 

Suddenly, without any explanation or any provocation Legolas pulled her into his arms and hugged her. Anariel was so stunned that her arms hung suspended in the air at his sides for a moment before she returned the embrace. 

“Legolas?” She asked quietly. 

“Hannon le,” He said simply. 

“Im Gelir na thaed.” Anariel replied with quiet confusion. 


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Notes: 

*When Anariel says: “I know not, but they named me for it.” She’s referring to the meaning of her name – “of the sun”. 

* “Hannon le” – “Thank you” 

* “Im gelir na thaed.” – “I’m happy to help.”


Chapter 11 - Words That Don’t Come Out

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

This chapter was mostly written under the inspiration of the song “The Story”, by Brandi Carlile. It doesn’t necessarily have a lot to do with this chapter (save for the end), but I used the lyrics of the song for this chapter’s title, in honor of this beautiful song that broke my writer’s block. (Aren’t you all lucky?)

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The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Eleven – Words That Don’t Come Out


So it came to pass that Elaneth and Arthion were to become betrothed to one another. As per the customs of the Eldar, there was to be a ceremony binding them together for a period of a year before their marriage.(1) Legolas had heard seldom times in his life that Thranduil had, sort of, skipped the betrothal part of the process of marriage, which greatly amused the young prince. Thranduil was a by-the-book sort of elf, and the idea of his father breaking all the rules to marry his mother was in fact rather satisfying. 

In the last days of autumn, the families of Arthion and Elaneth gathered in the dining hall that Thranduil usually used for meals with visiting dignitaries for a feast and then to the throne room for the betrothal ceremony. Shortly before they were to gather, Legolas had just finished dressing and arranging the traditional crown of leaves on his head when he left his room to find Hérion outside their elder brother’s chamber door, sniggering. 

“What amuses you so?” Legolas asked his brother. 

“Shh!” Hérion said, batting the air with his hand and not bothering to look away from Arthion’s half-open door. The younger of the two tilted his head in curiosity and then joined his older brother. He could see Arthion inside his bedroom, pacing nervously and reciting something to himself. Occasionally, he would make a mistake, twitch or jump up and down, and swear to himself. After regaining his composure, he resumed his pacing and recitations. 

“RHAICH!” (2) He yelled suddenly in a very angry voice. Legolas couldn’t contain his snort of laughter, which immediately alerted Thranduil’s oldest to his eavesdropping brothers. 

“Brothers, you mock me even now?” He asked exasperatedly. 

“Arthion, you should know well enough that the mockery of you will be ceaseless.” Hérion said, entering the room and patting his elder brother on the back. Legolas followed his brother.

“I was rather hoping you would desist on the day of my betrothal. It would certainly make life easier at the moment.” Arthion replied. 

“Alas, there is only one day that I will cease, and that is your wedding day. And as that is a year away from now, you must wait, I fear.” Hérion teased. 

“Certainly you are the most awful brother one could have.” Arthion said, joking. 

“I love you too, brother.” Hérion smiled, patting his brother on the back again. 

“What troubled you so earlier?” Legolas piped in. 

“My vows. I knew them all an hour ago, but now they seem lost in the murk that is my mind.” His eldest brother answered. 

“You’re nervous,” Legolas noticed with a smile. 

“I am certainly not!” Arthion declared, ever the proud one. 

“Well, in the case that you were, I was going to offer you some advice.” Legolas continued on, still smiling. “Relax, Arthion. Today is to be one of the happiest days of all our lives. Our joy for you is beyond measure, and nothing will detract from that.” 

Arthion’s shoulders seemed to relax and he breathed deeply. He returned Legolas’ wide smile. 

“And besides,” Hérion added, “Even if you do forget your vows, Elaneth loves you far too much to hold it against you.” 

Their eldest brother chuckled and moved in between his younger siblings, putting one arm over each brother’s shoulders. He cast a wide and happy smile at both of his brothers, silently giving his love and thanks. 

“What would I be without you two?” He asked. 

“Irrevocably inconsolable.” Legolas said instantly. 

“And very bored. We are such an amusing pair, Legolas and I.” Hérion mused. Arthion burst out into laughter, and with that, his younger brother raised his brow and said to Legolas; 

“We’d better get this one off to get betrothed. If Elaneth sees him in this right state she might not want him anymore!” 

------

As Legolas thought, Arthion had known his vows far better than he himself believed and recited them perfectly with Elaneth. He watched his brother carefully as the happy couple exchanged rings. Thranduil watched them from his wooden throne, the couple standing between the throne and the rest of their families. The Court of Mirkwood was also present, standing on either side of the hall observing. 

“With this ring of silver, I promise my heart, my soul, and my love to thee.” Arthion said softly as he lifted Elaneth’s pale hand and slipped a silver ring onto her finger. Legolas’ lip curled on one side when he saw Elaneth blush. 

“And I, with this ring of silver, promise my heart, my soul, and my love to thee.” She replied, slid a matching silver ring onto Arthion’s finger. The two gazed into each other’s eyes and simultaneously smiled. 

“Now the betrothal is complete.” Thranduil said, standing up from his seat. “As our customs dictate, you are bound to each other for a year hence. If, after the year is up, and you wish to do so, you have the right to revoke your promise. But for now I see that you are happy, and that all is right. As king of the Woodland Realm, I pronounce you to be betrothed.” 

Arthion and Elaneth leaned closely to one another and kissed shortly and sweetly. With their foreheads touching, they looked into each other’s eyes and smiled. Elaneth giggled. 

Everyone in the room smiled as Thranduil said “Go, now, and be merry!” to end the ceremony. The room slowly began to ignite with conversations and congratulatory remarks. Thranduil came down from his throne to shake his eldest son’s hand and kiss his daughter-in-law-to-be on the cheek, and then to turn to Elaneth’s parents to speak with them. Legolas made his way up to his brother and his betrothed. 

“Congratulations to you both. Elaneth, I am most pleased to have you join our family, you will be a most welcome change from these two!” Legolas joked, pointing to his brothers. Arthion gave a disapproving look. 

“Oh now, come off it Legolas.” He said. 

“I am happy to appease, your highness!” Elaneth laughed and bowed, her dark hair falling in her grey eyes. 

“Please, Elaneth, you must call me Legolas from now on. We are family. I would not have you address me so formally.” He said, a warm smile on his face. Arthion looked immeasurably happy to have Legolas say kind words of welcome to his beloved. 

“I’ll do that then… Legolas.” Elaneth said, hesitating to retrain herself to address him without his title. Legolas smiled and kissed her on the cheek. 

“Welcome, Elaneth.” He said. 

When he looked up, he saw his father standing with Hérion just beyond them signaling to Legolas and Arthion with his hand. He looked concerned. The two siblings exchanged confused looks. 

“My father is summoning us, love.” Arthion said to Elaneth. “I’ll return momentarily.” He finished, giving her another kiss. Elaneth smiled and nodded, not seeming the least bit slighted. 

Legolas and Arthion approached their father and Hérion. “What news, Adar?” Legolas asked. 

“Urgent business calls us to duty, my sons. I must go meet with my advisors in my study, and I expect you there within the hour. I’m sorry, Arthion.” The Elvenking said, looking truly apologetic. Arthion nodded, not meeting his father’s eyes. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He said, and then he was off. 

Arthion sighed, but without speaking to his brothers quickly returned to Elaneth to explain. Legolas turned to Hérion. 

“What has happened?” He asked. 

“I did not hear the entire report for I was not standing near enough to hear. But I believe there has been some disaster at Lake-Town, word has reached us from our patrols near the eastern border. Though, it must be a pretty sizeable disaster if Adar is concerned over it.”

“Aye.” Legolas said, nodding. “What terrible timing, as well.” He added, not knowing how true his words were.  

~

When the three sons of Thranduil walked into the Elvenking’s study, they were surprised to see Bregol, the top-most ranking soldier in Mirkwood, standing there among the advisors. 

“Bregol!” Arthion said “We haven’t seen you since - ” he cut himself short. 

“Since a very long time ago.” Bregol finished for him, understanding. (3)

Legolas glanced between the two, confused. He himself had seen Bregol once or twice in passing, and he was sure Arthion and Hérion had as well, but he dismissed his confusion rather quickly when his father began to speak. 

“My sons, Lake-Town is destroyed.” He said. 

“Destroyed?” Arthion asked. 

“By Smaug the dragon. Though we do not know what provoked the attack.” Bregol continued. “I was leading the patrols in the eastern woods when the trees and birds carried the message to us. Winter is coming on fast, and with the entire town’s shelters gone they will need our help in rebuilding.” 

“Yes. Arthion and Hérion, you will assemble a division of your troops first thing in the morning. I will march with you to Lake-Town in the morning.” Thranduil said. His three sons did not reply at first, but merely stood there gaping at him. It was Hérion who spoke first. 

“You cannot be serious… Adar,” He started. 

“I am very serious, Hérion. Lake-Town has ever been our ally. We need to be there to protect Lake-Town and its assets. With Smaug the Golden gone, it is likely that many will rush the place to pillage his treasure.” 

“Including yourself?” Hérion bravely said. Thranduil regarded him carefully before answering. 

“We will do what is necessary.” He said simply. 

“But Adar, what of Arthion? He is newly betrothed. It is cruel to send him away,” Legolas said. 

“Legolas,” Arthion said softly, but firmly. He gave his youngest brother a cautioning glare. 

“Send me instead!” Legolas cried, disregarding his brother’s warning. 

“You will have your own duty to tend to, Legolas.” Thranduil said. “It is likely,” he started as he walked out from behind his desk, “That what caused Smaug to leave his lair and attack the village was the party of dwarves, which I seem to remember escaping from our halls under your care. No, Legolas, I think that you will stay behind and be in attendance in the court in my stead.” 

“Adar, Arthion should take your place, he is eldest!” Legolas argued. Legolas did not like court, nor did he believe that his father was being very fair to the heir to the throne of Mirkwood.

“Arthion will do as he is commanded, as will you!” Thranduil said, raising his voice as he stepped in front of his youngest and looked down angrily at him. Legolas straightened his shoulders in a feeble attempt to look taller and more intimidating. The pair stood eye to eye for a moment before Legolas sighed through his nose and broke the staring contest. 

“As you wish, Adar.” Legolas muttered as he fled from the room. 

The young prince was furious. Actually, when he thought about it, Legolas was sure he was beyond furious. His father was relentless in his pursuit to see Legolas never leave the caves again. Thranduil would even steal Arthion from his fiancée for the prize of Legolas’ bondage. It was cruel. It was ridiculous. It wasn’t fair. 

Legolas broke into a sprint. He wasn’t even sure to where he was running. He heard the confused voices of the elves he passed in the hallways. At one point, the prince was sure that he had heard his name, but he disregarded the call and continued until he suddenly found himself climbing the staircase to one of the observatories near the peak of his father’s halls. Somehow Legolas knew it would be unguarded this night. The upper-most observatories were only used during the darkest of times, which Thranduil insisted that they were not in yet. When he reached the top, he threw open the wooden door and stepped out into the cool night air. 

Finally, he thought to himself. How he needed to be outside. His underground home had not the room to house his anger. Immediately the trees in the vicinity inquired of him when they sensed his anger. Trees did not appreciate antagonism, they were peaceful beings, Legolas had observed, and anger only reminded them of Orcs and fell creatures. 

Fear me not, for I am your friend. Forgive my state. He communicated, bowing his head slightly. 

A breeze fluttered through his hair, upon which the trees whispered calming words past his ears. Legolas drew a deep breath and sat down on the protective railing facing the trees. Quietly he listened to the trees as they resumed their ancient song. The young prince closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. 

The door behind him opened. 

“Legolas?” 

He turned around to see Anariel standing there with a concerned and confused look upon her face. 

“How did you find me here?” Legolas asked. Anariel did not break her gaze as she walked closer to where he was seated. 

“I was just leaving the Houses of Healing when I saw you run past, I called your name but you did not hear, or you didn’t care to hear. I followed you, though I have to admit when you turned round the last corner, I did not know that you came up here. It took me some time before I could discover your hiding place.” She said. 

“I am sorry, Anariel. I… I lost myself in frustration at my father.” He sighed. 

“What has he done now?” She asked him, looking up into his eyes as she leaned forward and rested her arms on the railing. Legolas drew another deep breath and recounted his tale and Anariel listened empathetically. When he was finished, Anariel took a moment before she replied. 

“Though I’m not sure I agree with your father, Legolas, you do realize that he is trying to protect you, do you not?” She asked him, daring to look into his eyes. Legolas turned away. 

“Protect me from everything. Including a normal life.” He retorted. 

“Because he loves you.” Anariel added. 

“This does not completely speak of love to me, Anariel.” 

“My lord, if I may be forthright, I do not believe that you are looking at everything in perspective,” Anariel said, raising her voice a little. Legolas looked at her. 

“Oh?” 

“Yes, ‘oh’. Have you not heard the stories of your birth?” She asked him. Legolas did not answer, he only looked away again. “I have, and they are a sad and anguishing tale. Of how your father watched your own mother die after giving birth to you and then riding through the forest, alone, with the burden of his only love’s death tailing him the whole way. Legolas, these circumstances must count for something! Your father is afraid to lose you!” 

Legolas continued to be silent. Inside his heart, a storm was raging. At this moment, he wished not to think of his mother, or of her sacrifices. He wanted to brood. He wanted to be alone. He did not want to think that his father had a good reason for all of this ridiculousness. 

“It is still cruel to Arthion,” Legolas protested softly. 

“I may wager that Prince Arthion is old enough to care for himself and that you should let him fight his own battles.” Anariel said wisely. 

Legolas chuckled softly and smiled, but did not respond. Anariel understood his smile to mean that he was no longer furious and gently let the subject drop. She turned her thoughts to the trees and their song. For several moments, the two merely listened to the songs of the night. 

“Sometimes they speak of her,” Legolas suddenly spoke, his voice still soft. Anariel gave him an inquiring look. “My mother,” he said, responding to her unasked question. 

“What do they tell you?” She asked barely above a whisper. 

“Too many things to recount. They speak of her love and her devotion, and of her strength. Sometimes, if I linger long enough, they will sing to me the songs she used to sing among them.” 

Anariel didn’t know what to say, but Legolas saved her the trouble. 

“I wish I knew her.” He said in a pained whisper. Immediately he looked down and away from Anariel to hide his feelings. Anariel felt her heart cry out for her dearest friend. It was not often that Legolas spoke of his mother, much less expressed a desire to remember, or know what she was like. Queen Almwen was remembered in revered silence among Thranduil’s sons, for the pain of her death was still a sting. Anariel was sure that Legolas was the most affected of the family, considering the circumstances of his birth. 

“Oh, Legolas,” she said quietly. She put one of her hands on his and the other on his shoulder and rested her head on his shoulder as well, knowing that no words could comfort this pain. 

-----------------------------------------------------

NOTES

1 – The information regarding marriage and betrothal came from Laws and Customs of the Eldar, Morgoth’s Ring. 
2 – “Rhaich!” – Elvish for “Curses!” 
3 – Regarding Bregol: The last time that either Arthion or Hérion spent much time with Bregol, it was when their mother died.


Chapter 12 - Like Father Like Son

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Twelve – Like Father Like Son

Shortly after Thranduil’s, Arthion’s, and Hérion’s departure for Lake-Town about two days ago, it started to rain in Mirkwood. Thunder rolled ceaselessly throughout the day and night, and only seldom did the storm lift for a day or two. The terrible weather was doing nothing for Legolas’ dismal mood, or for anyone’s mood for that matter. There was a cloud of foreboding lingering heavily in the air all around the Elvenking’s home. 

“How long will this storm last?” Elaneth wondered aloud as she and Legolas were sitting in their family’s common room together. 

“I know not.” Legolas replied, putting down the reports of the Realm that he had been reading. How he hated politics. He glanced over at Elaneth, who was stitching something that he could not discern. She had a sad look in her eyes. 

“I’m sure they will return soon,” Legolas assured her, “They took enough elves with them to build enough temporary shelters in a short amount of time. Arthion will be home before you know it.” He said. Elaneth looked up and smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Legolas.” She said quietly and quickly returned to her stitching. 

Legolas wondered to himself why he ever worried about Arthion being betrothed or married to Elaneth. Her presence was calming, whereas sometimes Legolas could find his siblings to be frustrating and his father unnerving. The young prince found that Elaneth could potentially change the whole family dynamic for the better. Anariel had said to him hardly a day ago: “I scarce can find a reason for you to fear her entering your family, Legolas. The Valar knows that your family has lived without an elleth to keep the household running properly for long enough!”. Anariel had certainly been right. 

Suddenly, one of Thranduil’s advisors popped into the room, looking distressed. “Your highnesses,” He addressed them. Elaneth looked confused momentarily, as she had been since being betrothed to Arthion. Her new title hadn’t really sunk in yet.  

“Gelladar, is there something wrong?” Legolas asked, standing. 

“There is someone here to see you on urgent business of the Realm. Or so he says.” Gelladar said. Legolas’ brow arched. “Just come and see, My Lord.” The advisor urged. Legolas looked to Elaneth, who shrugged. 

“Alright, Gelladar. I am coming. I shall return soon, Elaneth.” Legolas said, rising from his chair. Elaneth nodded and smiled as the prince lifted a hand to say goodbye. 

Legolas followed Gelladar to the Elvenking’s study where several of his father’s advisors had gathered, which the prince found to be odd. They were all huddled in small groups, whispering to each other. Legolas cast confused glances around as Gelladar opened the door to Thranduil’s study. 

Though Legolas had never had any direct dealings with him, he knew immediately who stood there, poking around Thranduil’s desk. 

“Mithrandir!” He shouted in surprise. Gandalf looked up in surprise. 

“Goodness,” The grey wizard exclaimed quietly. “They days must be growing darker, indeed, if Thranduil has left his throne in the hands of his youngest son to protect him more easily.” 

“You read my mind.” Legolas said. 

“Oh no, no…  just more perceptive than most believe.” Gandalf said, winking at Legolas, who smiled. 

“What brings you to the Woodland Realm, Mithrandir?” Legolas asked. Simultaneously, he moved over to where his father kept a wine flask and poured wine for himself and his guest and bade Gandalf sit down in one of the chairs, and he did so.

“Why, the Woodland Realm, of course!” Mithrandir laughed, taking the goblet of wine that Legolas handed him. “However, specifically, my role today will unfortunately be the bearer of bad news.”

“What news?” Legolas asked. 

“News from the South. Not long ago, myself and the other members of the White Council realized that Dol Guldur was under the power of Sauron.” Mithrandir said, his tone suddenly grim. 

“Sauron?!” Legolas exclaimed.

“Yes… though, after much lollygagging on the council’s part, we decided to attack. It is apparent that Sauron has fled Mirkwood, but I do not believe that the evil in the south of your forest is safe yet. There are not many places in Middle-Earth that are anymore, I’m afraid.” The grey wizard continued to explain. “However, there is a problem at present that you must see to,” he said. 

“Problem?” asked Legolas.

“I daresay, yes. I expect that you and your people encountered a party of dwarves and a hobbit not long ago that has continued on through your forest and on to the Lonely Mountain?” He explained. Legolas looked a little shocked, and confused.

“A hobbit, sir?” 

“You did not encounter a hobbit, then? Well, I’m sure they’re all together, at any rate. They have most likely made it to the Lonely Mountain, where Smaug the Golden has been ousted and most likely causing all sorts of havoc, and your father has gone to inspect with a garrison, am I right?” 

Legolas nodded, speechless after Mithrandir’s accurate description of events. 

“Did he take any healers with him when he left?” Gandalf then asked. 

“Healers?” Legolas inquired, shaking his head of it’s stupor. “I do not think so… why should he have taken healers?” 

“The time is short, then. Prince Legolas, you must assemble a small force of elves to protect all of the healers you can spare from your father’s halls and lead them to Lake-town. I fear the need will be dire very shortly.”  

“I must… Mithrandir, my father will have my head if I leave my post! You know him well enough to be aware of that. And what need does my father have of healers? They have gone to repair the damage that Smaug has done to Lake-town, not do battle with the beast.” 

“Not with that beast, no.” Gandalf replied. “But we must be prepared for what is in store, my young prince. And do not worry over your father’s anger for you. I will have words with him once we are there, but now you must go and assemble healers and some of the guard to protect us on our way. Hurry! I will meet you in the stables.” He said as he rose from his chair and left the room. Thranduil’s advisors rushed in like water released from a dam to speak with Legolas, barraging him with questions. 

“Please, quiet yourselves!” Legolas said angrily. The roar of questions ceased. 

“I will have no questions from you, but I will have action. See to it that a small division of elves is prepared to leave for Esgaroth within the hour, and that all the healers that may be spared are there with them.” Legolas ordered. 

“Why, your highness? What need does Mithrandir have of them?” 

“Who will see to the business of the Realm?”

“Prince Legolas, what is going on?” 

All of the questions started immediately after he had given his orders. Angrily, this time, Legolas said, “Do as I have commanded and do not worry over the rest! The business of the Realm can wait. Something evil has befallen Mirkwood.” And with that, Legolas left. 

Knowing that whatever Mithrandir had foreseen was probably for the worst, he went straight to the Houses of Healing to see Nestadriel, who looked very surprised to see him indeed in her office. 

“My Prince, what brings you here today?” She asked. 

“Momentarily, advisors of the King will be swooping into the Houses of Healing asking for those healers who can leave to go with me to Lake-town.” He explained. “Mithrandir has foreseen something and I fear it is something evil. We will need your most skilled healers, but if it is within your power, please see to it that Anariel does not come with us.” 

Nestadriel tilted her head. “Anariel is certainly one of my most skilled healers, my Lord. Are you certain you would not want her among those you take with you?” 

“I wish not to place her in danger.” Legolas replied in a quiet voice. 

Nestadriel nodded slowly. “I will see to it, Prince Legolas, if you see to it that none of my healers are injured.” 

“I promise, I will do my best.” He said. With a short bow, Legolas ran off to ready himself for the trip to Lake-town. 

~

Esgaroth was a two-day nonstop ride for the elves. By the end of the day of their departure, they were nearing the end of the forest, and most happily, the rain. Though, the day continued to look cloudy and dismal. 

“What say you, Prince Legolas? Should we stop for the evening?” Mithrandir asked Legolas, who rode at the head of the group with him. 

“Nay, the Healers may sleep on their horses if they wish, you said my father’s need was dire. The sooner we arrive in Esgaroth, the better I think.” Legolas replied. 

“Well said.” Gandalf replied. “You have your most skilled healers with you, then?” he asked, trying to make conversation. 

“I believe all but one,” Legolas returned, his thoughts turning to Anariel. Mithrandir saw this and smiled. 

“Nay, for she is with you!” A slightly angry voice called from behind them. Legolas was so startled that both he and his horse twitched and turned around to face the voice, though Legolas knew it without seeing her face. Surely enough, there was Anariel, riding behind them with her cloak’s hood up around her face. 

“What are you doing here?” Legolas asked, sounding angry and concerned. 

“Nestadriel told me that I was to stay behind because this mission is a dangerous one. But how am I to stay behind when so many of my friends are out risking their necks to aid our ellon? I will not have it, Prince Legolas. I will help.” She said firmly. 

Legolas’ eyes flared with anger. “I left instructions for you to stay behind because I do not wish to see you hurt! You should return to my father’s halls immediately!” he said. 

“I cannot do such a thing, my Lord, and you know I will not.”

“It is true, Prince Legolas, that you cannot send her back unaccompanied in dark times like these. And we cannot spare any of the party to see her back.” Mithrandir said, amused. Legolas let out an angry sort of growl. 

“Then stay you must.” He admitted angrily. In a frustrated manner, he redirected his horse to begin the trudge ahead again. Of all of the people he wished not to worry over on this trip, Anariel was foremost of them. He did not want to see her hurt. 

“Such a fierce need to protect,” Mithrandir mused, his eyes twinkling again. “which seems to run in the family.” 

Immediately, Legolas got red in the face. Whether or not it was from frustration or embarrassment, he knew not which. Nor did he really think it mattered much.


Chapter 13 - The Battle of Five Armies

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Thirteen – The Battle of Five Armies


Legolas had never seen so much water in his life. At least, not all spread out like the Lake at Esgaroth. The quiet lapping of the waves on the shore was like a beat to the quiet music of the water and the wind. It was almost as if the water was calling to him, calling him to come closer and to peer in…

“Prince Legolas?” Gandalf’s voice came from behind him. Legolas whirled around to see the rest of his company headed for the decimated town. The prince was unaware that he had completely stopped moving. 

“Apologies,” Legolas said, clearing his head of its fog. “I - ” 

“Water is a curious thing for many an elf,” Mithrandir cut him off, a serious look upon his face. “Some say that upon the waters of the world the Music of the Ainur can still be heard in echoes. But do not tarry, Prince, for it is not your time to hearken to it’s call.” He gestured for Legolas to follow him. Legolas nodded and nudged his horse back to his company, confused by the wizard’s words. 

~

When Legolas and Mithrandir trotted into Lake-town, all activity seemed to come to a hault. The Wood Elves who were helping the men of the town rebuild stopped to see their prince ride by with confused looks on their faces, for they knew that now no one was home to manage Mirkwood. 

“Legolas?” A voice asked. Legolas turned to see his brother, Hérion, standing in between the remains of two houses, looking rather stunned. “What are you doing here?” he asked frantically. Legolas dismounted his horse. 

“Mithrandir came fearing ill for our company here, I came with healers.” He explained. 

“What need do we have for healers? There is not much in the way of danger happening here, brother, just rebuilding…. Legolas, if Adar sees you here he will be furious, you should - ”

“Where is the Elvenking, then?” Mithrandir suddenly piped up. 

“He and Arthion have gone up to the Lonely Mountain to parley with the dwarves.” Hérion answered. 

“Then if Legolas stays here, he has no need to fear your father’s wrath, am I right?” the wizard asked. 

“I suppose this is true,” Hérion said in a considering voice. “My battalion has been left behind to help the men of Esgaroth, and I am sure that some healers can be put to use in this town, though I do not think that there is much to fret over,” he said. 

“Is there a healing house where I might send them?” Legolas asked. Hérion nodded and then turned to a blond-haired man working on a house nearby. 

“Alric,” He said. The man turned. “Show these elves to the place where you keep the sick and injured, they will be a great help to you.” 

“Aye, sir.” The man replied. 

“I think I will join your father, then.” Gandalf said from atop his steed. “Goodness knows what trouble they’re getting into up there,” 

Hérion and Legolas exchanged confused looks, but said nothing as the grey wizard urged his horse on through the town. 

“Go with Alric and show the healers where they may work, I have some things I must tend to. You may join me later, if you wish.” Hérion said. Legolas nodded and then turned to Alric, who motioned Legolas to follow him. 

Shortly, Alric had shown Legolas and the healers the hospital in Lake-town and the healers had set off to their work. Legolas lingered near the doorway to the building and listened to the faint song of the lake. He couldn’t get his mind off it. 

“My lord?” 

Legolas jumped and turned around to see Anariel looking at him from inside the door. 

“That is the second time today that I’ve been startled out of my wits.” He chuckled. 

“Maybe you should stop brooding, or whatever it is you are doing, in that case.” Anariel said. “What are you doing, anyway?” 

“Listening. Don’t you hear it?” Legolas asked. Anariel tilted her head and her eyes scanned around, regarding the world around her. 

“The music?” she finally asked. 

“Yes. Have you heard anything like it before?” 

“Sometimes, by the river.” Anariel said. “It’s very beautiful, very calming.” 

“It is,” Legolas replied softly. A moment’s quiet passed before Legolas managed to snap himself out of his daydreams and speak again. 

“How fare your patients?” He asked. 

“Most are not badly injured or sick. Some have burns, others broken bones. A few of the children have fevers, but it is not anything we cannot handle.” Anariel replied casually, leaning on the doorframe. “What is it that Mithrandir wants us here for, I wonder?” 

“If he knows, he did not share it with me. However,” Legolas paused and took a breath. “I do not think he brought us here for minor wounds and ills. Something is coming.” 

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Anariel said darkly. 

“As do I,” Legolas added, turning his attention to the dark clouds forming behind the Lonely Mountain. 

~

Barely two days later, The Battle of Five Armies began. Hérion, the only one of Thranduil’s captians who knew of Legolas’ presence in Esgaroth, sent word to Lake-town for Legolas and the healers to move nearer to the Lonely Mountain so the wounded could be more easily taken care of. Legolas was to take command of a battalion of troops that would defend the healers, who set themselves up in a grove of trees. 

Legolas had never been so unprepared for anything in his life. His troops were performing admirably, and the orders he gave seemed to be keeping the healers safe, but he attributed that mostly to dumb luck. He had never commanded any troops during battle before. It all started and continued on so quickly, the young prince could hardly keep up with everything he was saying and thinking. Beyond that, everytime an elf was brought to be healed, Legolas thought he was going to be sick. He had never seen wounds so horrific before. He had never heard screams so agonizing. 

Just when it seemed as though the combined forces of the dwarves, Thranduil, and Bard were beginning to overtake the goblins, a surprise attack was launched on the healer’s hiding place. Fiery arrows flew through the air and pierced the trees, setting them ablaze. In the confusion of the first few moments of the attack, the goblins then attacked Legolas’ forces.

“Call for help!” Legolas bellowed. “Fight off the goblins if you can, but the moment help arrives, aid the healers!” 

An elvish horn sounded the alarm for help. Another in the distance answered it, acknowledging. Knowing that help would be on the way soon, he darted into the burning trees, trying to block out the screams of anguish. He saw a healer trying to drag her patient out of the grove with his arm slung over her shoulders. Legolas rushed to the injured elf’s side and lifted his other arm over his own shoulders and helped drag him to a safe place. 

“Where is Lady Anariel?” Legolas asked the healer frantically. She looked at him,  grey eyes wide with fear. She didn’t answer at first, only stuttered. 

“My Lord, I … She…” 

“Where is she?!” Legolas pressed her. 

“I know not for sure, she was behind me just moments ago, but a falling branch separated us. She told me to go on ahead, my Lord.” She stammered out. Legolas nodded and without another word, he bolted off into the grove of trees again. 

“Anariel!” He called out. Legolas’ usually keen vision was impaired by the smoke and flames, but he could hear just as well as ever. Elleth and the injured were coughing as they made their way out of the burning trees. He could not hear Anariel among them. He yelled her name again as he went deeper in. No one returned his calls for what seemed like forever. 

“Anariel, where are you?” Legolas cried again. 

“Here!” A strained voice replied from somewhere to his left. 

“Keep speaking! Are you all right?” Legolas shouted, heading in the direction from whence the voice came. 

“I think I’m fine, but I can’t get out!” Anariel replied. At the sound of her voice, Legolas adjusted his course slightly and suddenly saw through the smoke a silhouette of an elleth and another on the ground. Leaping over a downed tree branch, he found Anariel and the man she had been healing. 

“Anariel! You are injured.” Legolas said, immediately falling to his knees by her side. He could see that the back of her dress had been ripped open by a falling branch – her skin was cut open and burned. 

“It doesn’t hurt, Legolas,” She said, coughing. The frightened prince didn’t know if she was lying on his behalf or if she was speaking truthfully. 

“Cover your mouth with your sleeve,” Legolas instructed. “I need to get you out of here.” 

“Not without my patient, you’re not,” Anariel replied obstinately. “He’s unconscious from the pain of his wound, but I cannot lift him.” 

“I can. But you, can you walk?” Legolas asked. 

“I think so.” 

Legolas nodded and hoisted the man over his shoulder and helped Anariel up. They navigated their way out of the grove and over to where the other healers had gathered. Anariel was coughing fiercely and Legolas suspected that she was having difficulty breathing. 

“Help!” Legolas called out as they approached the healers. Two came forward to help Anariel and Legolas. 

“Gwenneth,” Anariel gasped to the elleth who came to her side. “The man on Legolas’ shoulder needs antidote for the poison.” 

“And you are in no such condition to see it done. Merilien will help him now.” The elleth replied. The other healer, Merilien, beckoned Legolas to follow her while Gwenneth whisked Anariel away. The prince put the man down where he was instructed and then surveyed all around him. He desperately wanted to be with Anariel, but he could not abandon his warriors. 

The battle was being reclaimed. Arthion’s forces had come to join his own – he could see his eldest brother making his way across the battlefield as if it were a dance. Arthion was more skilled at knives than any elf in Mirkwood, and it was plainly clear today as any other day. However, close range combat was slow and grueling. Legolas knew that if he could rally his battalion and eliminate the goblins at distant range, shortening this stint of the battle. And in the back of his mind, Legolas knew if he commanded his troops well in battle and wasn’t injured, his father would be far less likely to lock him away for the rest of his years for disobeying orders to stay behind.

“To me!” He cried, running out to battle. “Reform the lines! Prepare for a volley!” 

~

When the battle was over and won, Legolas wasted no time returning to find Anariel. In the calm of the aftermath, some tents had been erected, giving the healers and their patients some privacy and protection from the elements. Not knowing where he might find Anariel, Legolas poked his head into the first tent he came upon. There were three healers inside tending to a man and a dwarf. 

“Where might I find Lady Anariel?” He asked without preface. The healers looked up. After a moment of exchanging looks with one another, one spoke. 

“Further back, my Prince. I will take you to her.” 

“My thanks.” Legolas said, bowing his head. The elleth blushed slightly and exited the tent ahead of him, leading the way. After passing five tents or so, they arrived at their destination. The prince thanked his guide again and then stepped inside Anariel’s tent. He found Gwenneth there, who looked up when he entered. He glanced from the healer to where Anariel was lying on the ground and covered in a blanket, her back facing him. 

“How is she?” Legolas asked anxiously. 

“She sleeps for the moment,” Gwenneth replied quietly. “Her cut and burn were minor, but it will be painful for her for a few days. She still wheezes from breathing in smoke. I fear she will have a mighty sore throat for a time. But she will recover in time.” 

Legolas released the breath he had been holding and ran his hand over his face, as if to remove the stress from his head by some magic. “Thank the Valar.” He sighed. 

“I need to go fetch more ointment for her back. I shall return in a few moments.” Gwenneth said. Legolas nodded and stepped aside so the she could leave. Once the healer was gone, Legolas stepped around Anariel and knelt down at her side, looking upon her face. Her hair around her face had come unfastened from behind her head and hung over her closed eyes. Her visage was marked with ashes from the fire. Legolas could see her breathing heavily and could hear her labored breaths. 

Not knowing what possessed him to do so, Legolas reached down and brushed the stray hair from her face. “Melethril…”(1) He said quietly. 

Under his touch, Anariel shuddered, causing her breathing to change. She coughed herself awake. Legolas moved his hand to her shoulder, steadying her body as she shook. 

“Shh, Anariel,” He said. 

“Legolas?” Anariel’s eyes blinked open as she tried to swallow the last of her coughs. 

“It is I,” He answered her. In the corner of his eye he spied a basin with water and a wooden cup next to it. He moved over and filled the cup with water and gave it to Anariel, who sat up slowly to receive it.

“It will stop your cough.” He said. 

“Who is the healer here, you or I?” She asked, giving him a smirk before taking a sip of water. 

“Well, you certainly cannot heal yourself, am I right?” He chuckled. 

“I suppose so.” Her raspy voice replied. 

“How do you feel?” Legolas asked her. 

“Tired.” Anariel answered him. He was glad that she was more sleepy than in pain – the young prince took that as a good sign. “Has your father discovered you here yet?” 

Legolas chuckled again. “Not yet, but I’m sure it will not be long now. He is with Mithrandir and Bard at the moment. The news is that Thorin Oakenshield is near death. I’m sure my father is making arrangements of some kind to honor him.” 

“That’s quite the turn of events.” Anariel noticed. 

“It’s good politics.” Legolas joked.

Anariel snorted, which caused another coughing spasm. 

“Forgive me, I should not have made you laugh.” He said, putting his hand on her uninjured shoulder again. 

“Yes… yes you should have!” Anariel said, despite her wheezes. She took another drink of water, and in the sudden quiet, Legolas heard his name called. 

“Legolas! You’d better be unhurt otherwise Adar is going to murder me!” It was Hérion. 

Legolas sighed and Anariel smiled. “Go to your brother. I will be fine.” She urged him. The young prince stared at her for a moment, afraid to leave. He could have lost his dearest friend this day, and all Legolas really cared to do was to stay by her side. “Go!” She said again, smiling. “I certainly will not be moving around any time soon. You can find me when business is taken care of.” 

After a moment’s more hesitation, Legolas squeezed her unhurt shoulder. “I won’t be long.” He said. Anariel continued to smile at him reassuringly as she nodded. Legolas stood and left, but not without casting one last glance back at Anariel, who shooed him out of her tent. 

Once he was out in the open, he spotted Hérion coming down the rows of tents. His older brother looked very relieved to see him. 

“Don’t scare me like that!” He sighed. “Come, Father wishes to know who was in charge of leading the volley that saved Arthion’s battalion from great losses when they came to defend the healers. I told him that I would fetch the elf, and I will not return without you. Adar should know what a skilled archer and warrior you are, Legolas.” 

“Just as long as you do all the gloating for me, brother. You do it far better than I ever could!” Legolas joked as they turned to walk up the Lonely Mountain together. Legolas cast a glance back at Anariel’s tent, wishing to avoid what he knew was coming.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

NOTES

1 – “Melethril” – Elvish for “beloved”.


Chapter 14 - The Coming of Strider

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Fourteen – The Coming of Strider


Somehow, that night after the Battle of Five Armies, Thranduil found it impossible to demote his youngest son from his post. All of his warriors were loyal and proud to be under Legolas’ command, and he could find no reason to dismiss him – even if he was furious at his disobedience. So instead of risking political upheaval in his military, he allowed his son to continue on as the head captain of the Interior Guard. 

Legolas, at first, was positively thrilled. But as the years wore on, he realized just how little time he had to himself, much less to watch over those dearest to him. He only made it to Anariel’s place in the Houses of Healing twice during her recovery and he barely saw her at all after she received her clean bill of health. In truth, Legolas was at some times glad to be busy to not see her often. After the battle, something changed in his regard for her, and he was afraid of what he felt. Anariel, on the other hand, he could not figure out. Whether or not she returned his feelings he could not discern, so he thought it was best to just leave things unsaid. He did not want to ruin their friendship.  

Now, seventy-seven years after The Battle of Five Armies, things were sufficiently stirred up in Mirkwood. There were unconfirmed rumors of a Nazgul Lord inhabiting Dol Guldur in the south of Mirkwood, which made the spiders and goblins far more active than they had been in the past. Legolas’ job was made exceedingly more difficult with each day as the threat of fell creatures collapsed on his shoulders. 

On this particular night, Legolas was looking forward to some much-deserved sleep. He had just come in from long week of patrols that during which, he had not slept. It was only hours from daylight when he entered his family’s dwelling. He smiled when he finally reached his room and collapsed on his bed without undressing. The young prince had a total of ten minutes’ peace before his door creaked open. 

Legolas pretended he was sleeping. Hopefully whoever was there to drag him away to whatever duty needed attending to would leave him in peace. 

Someone tugged at his plaited hair. No such luck. 

“Uncle Leaf?” A small voice asked. Legolas groaned and kept his eyes shut. 

“Uncle Leaf?” The voice repeated, this time a little louder.

Without opening his eyes, Legolas spoke; “What do you need, Erynion?” 

“Are you sleeping?” 

“Yes.” Legolas replied, sounding angry. 

“But you are speaking. Are you speaking in your sleep?” 

Legolas groaned, opened his eyes and sat up. He looked upon the ten-year-old elfling standing at his bedside and promptly hoisted him up on the bed next to him. The elfling looked up at him with piercing eyes. His dark hair was slightly askew, telling Legolas that his nephew had, at one time, been sleeping. 

“I’m awake. What do you need?” He asked his nephew. 

“When is Ada coming home?” 

“A few days, dear one. You must be patient.” Legolas answered, feeling pity for is young nephew. Arthion had been gone for three weeks now, leaving Elaneth, who was now his wife, and his son and daughter home to worry over his safety. Erynion was the oldest of Arthion’s children at the age of ten. His sister, Titheniel, was behind him in age by five years. 

“Will Uncle Hérion be back then too?” Erynion asked. 

“Maybe. Erynion, why are you up so late? Did you wait all night to ask me these questions?” 

“I…” Erynion’s young voice stopped and he looked away from his uncle, as if he were ashamed. “…I had a nightmare.” He finally said. 

“Another one?” Legolas asked. Erynion nodded and sniffed a little and Legolas put his arm around his nephew, pulling the elfling to his body. “About spiders?” Erynion nodded again, this time his eyes tearing. 

“Well, you have nothing to be afraid of. I’ve seen one, and I killed it.” Legolas said. “So I can protect you from them.” Erynion looked up at him with a skeptical look on his face. 

“Ada told me that. But he said that the spider hurt you really badly!” 

“But I’m still alive, am I not?” Legolas replied. Erynion looked away and furrowed his brow, as if calculating something in his head. 

“Well… yes…” 

“So you have nothing to be afraid of. No one is about to let any spider gobble you up.” Legolas said, patting Erynion on the back. The elfling smiled, and then yawned. 

“Shall we put you back to bed?” 

“I guess so…” Erynion said, yawning again. Legolas chuckled and took his nephew’s hand to lead him down the hallway. 

Once he had tucked Erynion back into his bed, Legolas was once again looking forward to his own rest when a noise stopped him. The door to his family’s house had just opened, and a messenger stood there. 

“Pardon me, Prince Legolas, but there is a situation that needs your attention at the gates immediately.” He said. 

“You jest.” Legolas groaned. The messenger elf looked confused, but Legolas waved his hand to send the elf away. “I’ll meet you there in fifteen minute’s time.” He said wearily. 

~

The prince rubbed his eyes as he trudged to the main gates of the Elvenking’s halls. Angry thoughts buzzed through Legolas’ head, frustrated at being torn from his rest for yet another matter of “business”. At this point, all Legolas really cared to do was rest. However, when he rounded the corner of the last tunnel, his curiosity was so piqued that the thought of sleep left him. There, speaking in Sindarin to his guards, was a ragged looking man, holding a strange creature captive on a rope. 

“Why doesn’t it lets us beeee!” Wailed the creature as it thrashed on the floor. “Nasty man wants it, yes he does!” it continued in an increasingly sinister voice. 

“Would you just be quiet?” The man growled as he yanked the rope. 

“It hurts us!” the creature wailed again. 

“Ah! Prince Legolas!” One of the elven guards said, noticing Legolas’ approach. The creature continued to wail and thrash on the floor, but the man turned his attention to Legolas. He had dark hair and grey eyes and a shadow of a beard graced his face. His hair and clothes were dripping wet, telling Legolas that it had started to rain in Mirkwood again. 

“Mae govannen.” Legolas said, nodding to the stranger. “I am Prince Legolas, son of Thranduil the Elvenking. Welcome to Mirkwood.” 

“Hannon le,” the man replied. “I am Aragorn of the Dunedain, and I come to ask for your help.” 

“Howt may we help you?” Legolas asked. 

“I am a friend of Mithrandir, and he has shared with me that he fears the One Ring of Sauron has been discovered.” He started. Legolas twitched and suddenly looked distressed. “This creature, Gollum, was the last to have it and it is imperative that we question him. But I fear that I am not the only one that has been searching for him, and I need shelter for myself and him so that this information does not fall into the wrong hands.” 

Legolas nodded, but the elves around him were suddenly in distress. 

“You would bring a creature sought after by the Dark Lord himself to our home?! Prince, think of how much danger he has put us in!” 

“I’m very aware of what the coming of this creature means.” Legolas said firmly. “However, if we send them out on their own, the nearest safe house is Lord Elrond’s in Imladris.” He said, looking at the guards. They quieted themselves quickly. Legolas turned to Aragorn. 

“I cannot speak for my father on this matter, I’m afraid,” he started. Aragorn’s face suddenly looked angry and frustrated. Legolas held up his hand. “But I will not turn you away, not at this hour of the night, and not in such dangerous times. Guards, take this Gollum to a place where he may be held safely and securely. Lord Aragorn, I will show you to a place where you may get some rest.” 

The gratefulness in Aragorn’s eyes was hardly unnoticeable as he thanked Legolas. He handed over Gollum’s rope to the guards, quick to tell them to beware of his bite and to guard him carefully, and then followed Legolas down a passageway. 

“Mithrandir said you were a kind and wise elf,” Aragorn said as they walked together. “Now I know he does not always speak in riddles.” He joked. 

“That I cannot believe.” Legolas chuckled. “Mithrandir has never said anything clearer than mud to me, though I have not had many dealings with him before in the past.” 

“It is true that he often does not speak much plainer than a riddle book, but when the situation is dire, he will give quite clear directions. … so then, is your father stubborn and cross as Mithrandir says?” 

Legolas laughed. “Indeed he is. But I doubt he will turn you away under the circumstances. But he will complain quite a bit, I’m sure. … Here,” Legolas said, finally reaching a neatly decorated wooden door. He turned the handle and showed Aragorn in and found a candle on a stand near the door to light. 

“This is where we house our honored guests. You will find nightclothes in the dresser there. There is a bathing room attached with all you will need, I believe. I’m sure you are weary from your journey, but my father will wish to see you no later than noon, I’m afraid.” Legolas explained. 

“I’ve survived on less sleep than this before, Prince Legolas. I will be fine. Thank you for your hospitality.” Aragorn said, bowing. Legolas smiled and left the room. 

“Good night to you, then,” he said, smiling. Aragorn smiled back and bid Legolas good night as well. The prince turned to go back to his own bed, quite sure that he would be too wound up to sleep at all at this point. 

~

Legolas woke after five hours of rest feeling ready for anything. The hours of sleep he had taken in over the past week were far fewer than the hours of wakefulness, but Legolas found that he could work with very little sleep just as long as he got some. 

After a late breakfast, Legolas went to the dwelling he had given to Aragorn and knocked on the door. 

“Enter!” came the voice from within. Legolas pushed the door open to see the Dunedain man dressed in clean elven clothes and toweling off his damp hair. He looked very different when he was clean. The young prince was slightly confused over Aragorn’s clothing – he did not think that a wardrobe for guests was kept in this room, and he had never seen clothes like his before. Aragorn was clad in silver and black. Woodland clothing was brown and green. Dismissing this, he greeted his guest.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well,” He said. 

“Far better than I have in many nights,” Aragorn replied, smiling gratefully. “When shall I meet with your king?” 

“Sooner rather than later, I think.” Legolas said. “He has undoubtedly heard of your coming during his morning report. I left notice that you would come before him sometime before noon. We should go soon.” 

“I am ready whenever you are. Will he want to meet Gollum?” 

Legolas hesitated. “…I think it’s best to just describe the creature. Father has no need to meet him unless he wishes to.” Aragorn nodded. 

“Then let us go and meet your king.” He said smiling. 

Legolas took Aragorn to Thranduil’s throne room where they met two guards. Legolas explained their appointment and the guards opened the doors. Legolas and Aragorn walked in to the throne room together to see Thranduil sitting upon his wooden chair speaking with some of his advisors. The Elvenking, upon spotting his youngest son and his guest immediately turned his attention away from whatever business they may have been discussing. 

“Legolas, it is good to see you after your many nights away. I look forward to your reports of the patrols of the Interior Guard. But tell me, who is this newcomer?” 

Legolas stopped and bowed to his father and Aragorn, observing, did the same. 

“This is Aragorn of the Dunedain. He comes with a request before the king.” Legolas said. He turned and nodded to Aragorn, bidding him to speak. Aragorn nodded back, and began to tell his tale. 

Legolas was absolutely enthralled by Aragorn’s account of his travels and adventures in searching for the creature Gollum. The young prince’s imagination exploded to life with images of the vales of the Anduin, the Black Gate of Mordor, and the Morgul Vales and Dead Marshes, then back again through the plains of Rohan, and the trip through the south of Mirkwood. 

“Your Majesty should be aware,” Aragorn said of southern Mirkwood, “That there is indeed a Nazgul Lord with a large army of Orcs in Dol Guldur. My only guess for it’s presence there is an eventual assault on the Elven lands of Lorien and Mirkwood. I know not when, but it is coming, My Lord.” 

Thranduil scowled and Legolas felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. This was ill news. 

“It was terribly difficult to remain unnoticed, for there were many Orc patrols throughout the forest. In the end I had to follow along the western edge of the forest to stay undiscovered. When I came upon your people’s path, I followed it until I found your halls.” Aragorn explained. “I humbly ask that you keep the creature Gollum safe in your people’s care, for the elves of Lorien will not allow such a being in their realm, and I cannot keep him safe through the pass of the Misty Mountains to take him to Imladris. But it is imperative that he is kept safe. The information he holds is too important to let him go.” 

Thranduil regarded Aragorn for a moment before speaking. 

“If Dol Guldur is infested as you say,” he began, “just how safe do you believe I will be able to keep this Gollum? I will not risk the lives of my people just for one not of my own.” 

“I do not believe that the Nazgul knows that I have come with Gollum. Nor do I think he is yet powerful enough to assault your people and think himself capable of winning, otherwise he would have begun to do so.” 

Thranduil again was silent some time before he spoke again. “How long do you wish to stay in Mirkwood to question the creature?” he asked. 

“It will not be I who questions him, otherwise I would have started long ago. Mithrandir wishes to glean the information. If you allow him, Mithrandir will probably be here within a few days.” 

Then, suddenly, Thranduil asked a question that Legolas thought totally irrelevant and was rather surprised by it. 

“How did you come to live in the Last Homely House of Elrond?” 

What an absurd question! Thought the prince. Though, after seconds of confusion Legolas suddenly realized that Aragorn’s elven clothing had provoked the inquiry. 

Aragorn looked slightly caught off-guard, but he answered. “My mother took me there, after my father died. She thought I was safest there. Lord Elrond raised me as his son.” 

“What name did Lord Elrond give you?” 

“He called me ‘Estel’, My Lord.” 

Thranduil’s eyes widened slightly and he was silent again for a time. Legolas had a sneaking suspicion that his father knew something that was not common knowledge and was not being disclosed during this meeting. Finally, after some time of consideration, Thranduil spoke. 

“We will keep the creature Gollum safe.” He said. “Lord Aragorn, please instruct Captain Legolas, how best to care for it. The Interior Guard will be left in charge of the creature.” 

“Aye, My Lord. It will be done.” Aragorn replied, bowing deeply. Legolas bowed to his father as well, and then gestured to the Dunedain man to escort him out of the throne room. They were almost to the door when Legolas heard his name. 

“Legolas?” His father’s voice called. Legolas turned, eyebrows raised in attentiveness. “Please try to make it to dinner tonight. I… … your niece and nephew miss you.” Thranduil said. Legolas had to try his hardest not to laugh at his father’s feeble attempt to cover his slip. 

“I will be there, Adar.” He assured Thranduil as he left with Aragorn. After the throne room door was closed behind them, Legolas turned to the Lord of the Dunedain. 

“Gollum does not require much, but he cannot eat food as you or I do, it is best to feed him raw fish. It is what he is accustomed to.” He said almost immediately. “He must be guarded at all times, for he is a sneaky creature and he will find any way he can to escape. He seems to have two personalities, and he talks to himself. It’s best to just guard him and let him be.” 

“We will see it done, then.” Legolas said. “I’m sure we can speak more on this soon…” 

“Nay, I leave within the hour, there is much to be done.” Aragorn cut him off. Legolas nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. 

“Then I will see to it that your horse is ready at your earliest convenience, and I wish you safe travels” He said. 

“I thank you. I’m sure this will not be the last we see of each other.” Aragorn replied, grinning at the prince before turning to go and pack his things, leaving a very frustrated Legolas behind. How he wanted to hear of the lands that Aragorn had seen! 

The prince was contemplating going back to his home to be with his niece and nephew when suddenly, two hands slid over his eyes. With a warrior’s instinct and speed he whirled around, nearly throwing his assailant to the ground. But when he saw who it was, he quickly prevented her fall by grabbing her around her waist. 

“Anariel!” He gasped. 

“Good heavens, Legolas! I’ll surely never do that again!” She said, bewildered. For a moment, Legolas held her in her half-tipped-over position and they locked eyes, and then, the prince regained his composure and helped Anariel back to her feet and cleared his throat. 

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to react in that way,” He said. 

“No, it is all right. I should know better, now that you’ve been in the Guard so long.” She replied, a sadness in her tone. “How have you been doing, Legolas?” she asked sheepishly. 

“I fare well, for the most part, yourself?” Legolas asked with a bit of a sigh. He was trying to hide his nervousness from her. He had no clue what had possessed him to be so nervous around his closest friend in such a short time, but nonetheless, he felt completely out of control. 

“Lonely.” Anariel said it so bluntly that Legolas took a tiny step backwards in regret. Seeing this, Anariel quickly spoke again. “It is not your fault, Legolas, do not take my words as being directed only towards you. It’s just… I do not see you as often anymore. I miss you.” She said. 

Legolas was sure that his pounding heart could be heard from a mile away at this point. He swallowed and stepped forward, undoing some of the distance he had put between himself and Anariel. 

“Lady, I…” 

But before Legolas could get another word in, someone interrupted him. 

“Captain Legolas,” one of the Interior Guard approached them. “The morning reports are in and ready for you to hear,” Legolas nodded at the guard. 

“I believe it can wait for a while, I have some business with a friend here that needs attending to.” He said. 

“No, Legolas,” Anariel said. “Go, tend to your duties. I should get back to mine.” She looked as though she were trying to hide something, but Legolas nodded. 

“I shall see you at a later time, then.” He said. 

“I hope so!” Anariel replied, trying to sound cheerful. 

As Legolas left with the guard, the feeling of anger and frustration that welled up inside him was overwhelming. Things were not going well.


Chapter 15 - Falling Apart

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Fifteen – Falling Apart


Three days after Aragorn’s departure, Legolas had assigned himself to one of the observatories that overlooked the main entrance to the caves. He had his leg propped up on the bottom of the wooden railing and his arm resting on his elevated knee, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he glared pensively out on the forest. The still young prince was conflicted, that much was apparent by his stare. 

It had been three days since Gollum had been trusted in the care of his people with the promise of Mithrandir’s arrival to question the creature and report his findings, and the gray rider had yet to grace Mirkwood with his presence. Thranduil was becoming testy and pressed his son for information constantly. On top of that, Legolas’ brothers were both still out in the forest on assigned patrols to keep the perimeters around the Halls safe. Arthion’s children were yet young and suddenly Legolas was their only father-figure. And in court, the elleth who usually took it upon themselves to fawn all over Hérion now flocked to Legolas, flustering him greatly.

Legolas let out a frustrated sigh just thinking about it. He shifted his weight anxiously. He felt like he had more problems than solutions these days. 

What was he to do about Anariel, he wondered. This was the first time in Legolas’ life that he could remember being confused over his feelings for her, or confused over his feelings at all. He knew that by not speaking to Anariel, he was pushing her away, but on the other hand he knew he was pushing her away because he was afraid that whatever he was feeling would change what was between them. 

The trees’ song was abnormally bouncy at this moment, and Legolas focused in on them and gave a stony face to the nearest bunch of oaks. They were mocking him and he knew it. 

“Ugh!” He groaned in protest of his thought process. 

“Ugh indeed!” A voice came from behind him. 

Now, it is not in an elf’s nature to be startled by anything, but Legolas was so deep in his own mind that he had not heard the approach of another elf to the observatory, hence Legolas jumped. To conceal his noticeable twitch, he changed his stance and whipped around. Behind him stood Alagos, much to the princes’ dismay, for Alagos was Anariel’s father. 

“I’m sorry to have startled you, Captain. You seemed deep in thought.” He said, striding up next to Legolas. 

“I was, but there is no need for apologies. I need not dwell upon those thoughts any longer,” Legolas said dismissively. He felt rather awkward for saying such untruths to himself and especially to the father of the elleth who occupied his feelings so. 

“My daughter bids me to say hello to you,” Alagos said. Legolas offered a short smile. 

“Thank you for delivering it, I hope to see her in person to give my own greetings.” 

Alagos smiled at his prince, knowing that the hope was sincere, but there was hesitation. This did not worry the father of Anariel, for it had long been whispered throughout the Elvenking’s halls that Legolas and his daughter made quite the pair. And as an aged elf, it became quite apparent that something between the two to cause their relationship to change recently (as far as recently goes for an elf) to an, albeit, awkward, stage. 

“I’m sure you shall find her in the Houses of Healing as always. Or at the Feast.” 

“Feast?” Legolas asked, giving Alagos a puzzled look. The elder elf laughed. 

“You mean you’ve not heard? Your father plans a feast to honor Mithrandir when he comes.” Alagos looked positively amused. 

“No, I hadn’t. But I am only his youngest son, I have no need to hear his plans, only accommodate them.” Legolas joked seemingly in earnest. However, inside Legolas’ bowels were crawling with nervousness. 

“How is the creature Gollum?” Alagos asked suddenly. Legolas regarded his elder for a moment, but did not dwell on the change of subject. 

“As well as could be, I suppose. He is rather bad-tempered nearly all of the time and speaks only in riddles or nonsensical babble, but he is not ill, nor does he have a wholly evil presence to him. I am rather unsure what to think about him.” The prince replied. 

“Perhaps Mithrandir wanted the Lord Aragorn to bring him here so we could rehabilitate him in some way.” Alagos said after a moment. 

Legolas gave him an inquiring look. “Rehabilitate?” he asked. “In what way would you suggest we begin to heal this creature?” 

“Well, my Lord, if I may; the trees’ song always heals the ills on your heart and mind for you spend much time among them, and it helps you. Perhaps if Gollum were allowed the same privilege, perhaps he would be healed as well.” 

Legolas looked as though he was processing the idea in his head when a sudden commotion from below interrupted his thoughts. 

“Hark! Mithrandir is coming!” One of the guards shouted from a station in the trees. Legolas squinted and surely enough, through the brush he could see a man cloaked in gray approaching on a brown horse.

Alagos chuckled and patted Legolas on the shoulder. “Go, greet our guest.” Was all he said as he smiled. 

Still slightly bewildered, Legolas nodded and headed into the Halls and down to meet Mithrandir. 

~

The Grey Wizard was indeed none too happy about the feast that the Elvenking had planned in his honor. It seemed as though Mithrandir wanted to conduct his business and leave, but Thranduil would have none of it. So much to his chagrin, Mithrandir sat at a table joined by the royal family and guests who all were dancing in the clearing of the forest and eating of the food provided to them. The halls were too oppressive for proper festivals – most were held outside. Legolas was seated next to him, inquiring of the Istari every once in a while. 

“One would guess you were an elfling in an ellon’s body, Prince Legolas.” Mithrandir remarked after being bombarded with a series of questions about Aragorn’s travels. 

Feeling slightly miffed, Legolas looked away with a puzzled look on his face and then drank of his wine. Suddenly, there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Anariel there. 

“It is not the time of the Feast of the Forest, but you will dance with me, won’t you?” she asked. 

Legolas was hesitantly silent for a moment, but Mithrandir broke his silence for him. 

“I’ll have no more inquiries from you lad until you dance with the lady. Go!” He urged Legolas with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Alright then,” Anariel laughed as she took Legolas’ hand. “We’ll dance then?” 

Legolas rose to his feet and smiled at her. “Yes.” He managed to say as they walked out to the dance floor. 

Anariel’s hand in his was more than he wanted to stand. She was so close, and her familiar scent of wildflowers lingered in her wake. It seemed as though the world moved more slowly as she turned around to take his other hand and pull him into a dance. The elleth smiled sweetly at him as she turned under his arm, her long hair fluttering about her face. 

“You are very quiet, Legolas.” She observed. 

“I cannot think words to say,” Legolas managed to stutter out. The elleth’s smile faded slightly, but her grip on him did not slacken, nor did she appear to be phased enough to leave him. 

More moments of silence passed between them with only music to fill the gap. Legolas felt more awkward than he had ever felt in his life before. 

“How have you been in these past weeks?” He asked finally. Anariel looked at him incredulously, puzzling the prince. 

“Legolas, you must know.” She said. Legolas looked slightly alarmed as he racked his brain for any information that might clue him in to her psychological status. He found none. After his decided silence, Anariel snorted in a rather un-elleth-like way. 

“Are you indeed so clueless?” She asked. 

“Clearly I am,” Legolas admitted. Anariel sighed. 

“That day, the day I was injured… something happened between us, Legolas. I can feel it. And it certainly shows in your actions.” She said. Her face was unreadable, frustrating the prince to no end. “Whatever happened seems to have driven us apart.” Anariel finished when he did not speak. 

“I…” Legolas stuttered. “You must know that this being Captain business isn’t as easy as it looks,” He said. “Between that and my brothers being gone, I have but little time to rest! You’ll have to forgive me if I seem more than absent-minded these days. The last few years have been quite more than stressful.” He spat out all at once. 

“Yet you cannot find time to confide in me for your troubles? We used to do that for each other, Legolas, but no longer! Why?” She finally demanded. 

“I… I cannot.” Legolas said, words failing. 

“Why not?!” Anariel finally asked. 

Now Legolas had done it. Anariel was visibly upset by his evasion – her eyes were tearing and she pulled away from him, ending their dance. 

“It is not your burden to bear,” Legolas replied softly. 

“But I want to help you, Legolas, is that too much to ask? Confide in me, I can help!” 

“I cannot confide in you in these matters,” Legolas realized immediately that he had dealt a severe blow to whatever relationship Anariel and he had together, and it was written all over Anariel’s face. Her eyes grew wider and the tears that had been threatening to spill over her cheeks finally rolled downward, and her lip trembled. Legolas, trying to correct himself, reached out to touch her arm. 

“Anariel,” He said, pleading with her. She shied away from his touch. 

“Goodbye, Legolas.” Anariel said as she darted off, running into several other dancing couples on her way who all objected rather audibly. 

Legolas wanted to follow after her, but he knew that the damage was done. It was too late. Feeling utterly defeated and heartsick, the Elvenking’s son turned and went back to his place next to Mithrandir, who was speaking rather animatedly to Thranduil about Halflings and pipe-weed. 

The prince dejectedly picked some of the fruit on the flatter in front of his setting and put it on his plate, though he did not feel hungry. Absently, he rolled the grapes around the wooden platter, not noticing that he was being observed. 

“I’ve seen more graceful interactions from Dwarves.” Mithrandir’s voice came. Legolas turned and stared at the wizard with an unmoved look on his face, to which Gandalf chuckled a little. “Fear not, young prince. I feel that there are better things to come for you.” He mused, lighting his pipe and letting out a puff of smoke that resembled a ship. 

Legolas let out something akin to a “harrumph” and turned away from Mithrandir. He was not in the mood for lightheartedness.


Chapter 16 - Mornië utúlië

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

----------------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Fifteen – Mornië utúlië


Two mornings later, at his father’s behest, Legolas was propped up against the outer wall of Gollum’s cell, listening to Gandalf’s questioning. Though Thranduil had sent Legolas to listen in, his son was barely hearing anything that was going on. His focus was decidedly somewhere else. The interrogation had been going nowhere for quite some time, and Legolas’ mind found reason to wander. However, every once in a while the prince would snap out of his fog with an outburst from Gollum. 

A bit of stale bread came flying out of the bars and whooshed past Legolas’ knee, colliding with the rock of the wall across the room. 

“Why should we tells YOU anything?!” Gollum hissed at Gandalf. Legolas cast a glance inside the cell where the creature was hunched over in a corner, Gandalf in front of him standing to the side having recently dodged flying breadcrumbs. 

“Because as it stands now, I am the only one in a position to find it.” Gandalf replied patiently. 

“He wants it for himself, yes he does!” Gollum said in a sinister voice. “Maybe he will brings it back to us!” he replied to himself in a different tone. 

“Perhaps I could bring it to you, if you proved to me you deserve it.” Mithrandir said. Legolas gave the wizard a sideways glance. Had he just offered to hand over Isildur’s Bane to this babbling creature? 

“We cannot trust it!” Gollum hissed again in his evil voice. More stale bread hurtled towards Mithrandir, who easily dodged the projectile. 

The wizard glanced back at Legolas. “Where does all this bread come from?” he asked, sounding exasperated. 

“We give it to him along with fish, but he does not eat it.” 

“Yes, I can see that.” Gandalf replied, turning back to Gollum. “Would you rather the Dark Lord reclaim it for his own? You would certainly not see it after that.” 

“No! He must not get it back! Always watching… always the Great Eye, he watches!” Gollum suddenly spat out in a panic. “He must not have it! We needs it!” 

“Then where is it?!” Gandalf finally shouted, seemingly having lost his patience. He was now inches from the wretched creature’s face, which was contorted in absolute turmoil.

“B-B-BAGGINS!” Gollum wailed, writhing on the ground. “Bagginses! Filthy little hobbitses stole it!” The creature continued to wail and sob on the floor while Mithrandir stood completely still, watching him. Legolas was confused, he thought that the wizard would have been a little more joyful after finding out where Gollum saw The Ring last. 

“Mithrandir?” Legolas asked after a moment. The Istar stood silent still. “Is this not good news?” 

Then Gandalf turned with eyes wide to Legolas. “Indeed, no it is not. I must leave forthwith.” He said, pushing open the bars of Gollum’s cell and striding past the prince. 

“Where will you go?” Legolas asked, turning to follow him.

“Westward, over the mountains. There is ill news I bear to the Shire.” Mithrandir replied, not turning to face Legolas. 

“Mithrandir, I beg you; your hasty departure will make my father suspicious. Is there something I might tell him to explain your leaving?” the prince asked. He knew that his father could potentially believe that if it was indeed Biblo Baggins who had the Ring, that it could be in Mirkwood. Legolas did not want his father commanding either of his brothers to mount a fruitless search in the darkness of Mirkwood.

Gandalf stopped and turned, regarding Legolas carefully. “You fear the truth will take your father down a dark and dangerous path?” 

Legolas hesitated, but answered, “Yes.” He sighed. 

“Then, you should tell him that the exact whereabouts of the Ring are yet unknown to me. Gollum gave no sure location, only hinted at it indirectly. You should say that I interpreted his message and left accordingly, though I did not say to where I went.” 

“I will do that.” Legolas said, nodding. Gandalf smiled and put his hand on Legolas’ shoulder. 

“The sons of Thranduil Elvenking are strong of heart and mind. There may come the time, Legolas Thrandulion, when your compassion and expertise will be called upon by the peoples of Middle Earth.” He said. 

Legolas looked puzzled. “But sir, I have no expertise. If it is skill with the bow you speak of, I have had little opportunity to test it.” He replied. 

Mithrandir chuckled. “Fear not. My words will make sense in time. Fare the well, Legolas Thrandulion. I must hasten away.” He said, turning and leaving Legolas even more puzzled than before standing in the hallway. However, Legolas had little time to ponder the wizard’s strange words, for suddenly an elf came sprinting down the hallway in his direction. 

“Captain! Prince Arthion and some of his brigade are returning! They have been spotted on the road to the halls!” The elf shouted. Before the reporter had a chance to stop, Legolas took off himself, sprinting towards the gate. 

“Captain! Wait! There is more!” But the elf’s words were lost on Legolas, who was rather determined to see his brother. 

Legolas arrived at the gate just as his brother and ten other elves rode in. Arthion rode at the front of a v-shaped formation of rather frantic looking soldiers. The youngest son of Thranduil noticed immediately the reason for their frenzied faces – Arthion was bleeding rather profusely from his shoulder. 

“Arthion! Brother!” Legolas shouted. 

Legolas’ older brother looked at him with foggy eyes as he dismounted his horse. “Legolas…? We were attacked…” He started to say. Legolas was at his side within seconds, helping him to stay standing. 

“We need to get you to the Healers’.” 

“The children?” Arthion asked bewilderedly. 

“I will send for them, and Elaneth. Come, Arthion, you’re bleeding.” Legolas turned to one of Arthion’s comrades. 

“What injured him?” He asked. 

“An arrow shot by Orcs, my lord. Shall I come with you to relay this to the healers?” 

“Yes. When you have finished your tale I will ask you to go to the Elvenking, and request he and his daughter-in-law and grandchildren come to the Houses of Healing immediately.” 

“Yes, Prince Legolas. I will certainly do that.” 

~

Fifteen minutes later, Legolas stood outside where Arthion had been laid to be examined and healed, waiting for the rest of his family to show up so he could explain to the best of his abilities what Nestadriel had told him. The youngest prince paced anxiously. The news that Nestadriel had shared was not altogether bad, but certainly not wholly encouraging either. Before Legolas had much of a chance to brood, his niece and nephew burst through the door, their mother and grandfather close behind. 

Erynion and Titheniel seemed to know that their father was behind the door that their uncle stood in front of and attempted to rush past Legolas, who caught one elfling in each arm. 

“Uncle Leaf! Let me go see Ada!” Erynion shouted, kicking violently. 

“Uncle Leaf! Let go!” Titheniel joined in, thrashing herself. 

Legolas hoisted both elflings off the ground, despite their battering. “You will have to wait, little ones. Your father is being looked at by the healers.” He said, trying to manage his niece and nephew’s squirms and protests. Elaneth rushed forward and took Titheniel out of Legolas’ arm and shushed her child. 

“Ada is fine, he just needs to be looked at first, tithen-min,” (1) She comforted. 

“Why can we not see Ada!” Erynion fussed. Legolas squeezed his nephew tightly. 

“Patience, Erynion. You will see him soon.” He said. Legolas cast a glance at his father and met Thranduil’s concerned gaze. The young prince wondered if this was a glimpse of what his father looked like, so many years ago when Legolas himself was in Arthion’s position. At this moment, Thranduil looked very old, and very grave. He could not stop moving, a disposition that Legolas very little found his father in. 

“I do not wish to alarm the children,” Legolas mouthed to his father, who nodded. He seemed to understand that Legolas had news on his eldest’s condition. Thranduil stepped out of the room for a moment and returned with a healer that Legolas did not recognize. 

“Miss, would you be good enough to take my grandchildren to get some way bread? They have not yet had their lunch,” He said. The healer nodded, and Legolas and Elaneth simultaneously let down their armfuls of children. 

“If we go, do you promise that we will see Ada when we return?” Erynion asked, giving his uncle a furious look. He knew he was being purposefully “distracted”. 

“We promise.” Legolas nodded as he motioned for his nephew to follow the healer. After a small harrumph, Erynion went and took the healer’s hand as his sister took the other and was led out of the room. 

“What news of Arthion?” Elaneth asked almost desperately. Legolas motioned for his father and sister-in-law to sit in the chairs in the room as he did also before he spoke. He leaned forward with his hands on his knees as he relayed his message. 

“Nestadriel tells me that the wound itself is not fatal. He was pierced on the top of his shoulder, and the wound did not penetrate any vital veins or otherwise, but the arrow was tipped in poison. It seems as though the arrow did not penetrate far, and so the effect of the poison will be difficult to ascertain. Lady Nestadriel assured me that they are cleaning the wound and administering the antidote as best they can.” Legolas explained. 

Elaneth seemed a little less uneasy at this news and smiled a little, and reached forward and put her hand on Legolas’, thanking him nonverbally. Thranduil sighed out of what relief he could find in this news. 

“Was he the only in his party injured?” The Elvenking asked. 

“Nay, three others were hurt also.” Legolas said. “None dead.” 

Thranduil nodded. “The elf who summoned us here said they were attacked near the Enchanted Stream. Have your scouts noticed any activity there?” he asked. 

“Indeed they have not, which is what disturbs me most.” Legolas replied. “I sent forth a party of the Interior Guard immediately to scour the area. They will report back at nightfall.” 

Thranduil, finding this course of action wise, nodded and made an approving noise. “Is Mithrandir still questioning the brute in our cells?” He asked. Legolas swallowed.

“Nay, he left just minutes before Arthion’s arrival. Gollum said something I could not quite understand, but Mithrandir seemed to have acquired the information he needed and set off right away.” He reported, trying to sound earnest. 

His father, too concerned about his eldest paid it little mind, much to Legolas’ relief. “Then we must hope that Mithrandir finds what he is looking for before any fell creatures that are about do.” 

“It seems as though the days grow darker as the years wear on,” Elaneth said quietly, not looking at either Legolas nor Thranduil, who were both looking at her. “Indeed, I fear for the lives of my children, for the threats against our home grow nearer every day.” 

“Fear not, dear Elaneth,” Thranduil said. “The Elves of Mirkwood remember well the battles fought against the Dark Lord in the open plains of Mordor, and through our losses in those dark times, we have come to learn better ways to defend ourselves. These halls are safe, and the children will always be safest.” 

Elaneth smiled at her father-in-law, seeming to be comforted by his words. Legolas noticed the twinge of sorrow in his father’s voice when he spoke of the battles in Mordor and paid it little mind, for he knew that his promises of safety were barely full. Thranduil seemed to know this as well, for the look he gave his youngest son spoke truths unto Legolas, more than words ever could.

---------------------------------------------

NOTES

1 Tithen-min – “Little one” … If you think that this is a poor construction of this phrase and have a better suggestion, please let me know.


Chapter 17 - Liberties

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Seventeen – Liberties


As it turned out, Arthion’s injuries were not exacerbated by poison too badly, as the healers were able to extract much of it before it entered his bloodstream. The eldest son of Thranduil was ill for a few days, but on the third day Nestadriel made it known that he would be able to leave the Houses of Healing after one more night’s observation. Upon hearing the news, Legolas noticed, that Elaneth seemed like a lamp that had just been lit. She busied herself with her children and was her cheerful self in essentially no time. Thranduil was also much at ease with this news. He paced less often and was, much to Legolas’ dismay, constantly prodding his youngest son about Mithrandir’s visit. 

“I know not why he left!” Legolas said in an exasperated manner over their breakfast of eggs and lembas one morning. The young prince was getting rather tired of questions. 

“He must have left so quickly for some reason,” Thranduil reasoned, giving a questioning look to his son. “Perhaps you can try and wheedle it out of our guest, then?” 

Legolas sighed and stabbed his eggs most maliciously. In the silence he offered his father instead of an answer, his mind wandered over thoughts of Gollum and his strange mannerisms, his sudden and unannounced entrance into Mirkwood… And oddly enough, his mind wandered over a conversation he had with Alagos, Anariel’s father some nights ago. Without thinking, Legolas started speaking again. 

“I wonder, Ada, if I might be able to persuade him to trust us enough to speak on matters such as this if we allow him some… liberties.” 

Thranduil looked at his son and raised an eyebrow. “Liberties.” He repeated. 

“Yes, perhaps, if we allowed him to walk about the forest at night and delight in some freedom, he might be endeared towards us and open up.” Legolas explained. 

“Is he not a cunning creature that will run at any chance?” His father asked. 

“Maybe so, but he is not as quick as ten elves, I think, if some travel ahead and some behind, we should be able to cover him.” 

Thranduil regarded his son for a moment, and then turned once again to his breakfast and as he took a bite said, “Do what you feel is best.” 

~

Later that morning, Legolas made his way to the Houses of Healing to visit his brother as he had done for the past three mornings. Seeing the vast improvement Arthion had made eased Legolas greatly, for he was rather worried about his niece and nephew. With both of his brothers gone, Legolas seemed to fill the void that Arthion had left for his children and was very fond of them. Seeing them fret over their father and being unable to assuage their fears agitated him greatly. 

When the youngest son of the Elvenking entered his brother’s room in the Houses of Healing, the two elflings were jumping up and down on Arthion’s bed, shouting a story very loudly. When the door opened, however, all elfling activity stopped. 

“Uncle Leaf!” Both children cried in unison. 

“Yes, Good Uncle Leaf is here to save his brother from the terrors of you two goblins!” Arthion teased. 

“We are not goblins, Ada!” Titheniel said, stomping her foot and mocking an upset face. 

“Halfings then?” Arthion asked. 

“We are not Halflings, either!” Erynion laughed, bouncing up and down again. 

“What are you then, pray tell?” 

“ELVES!” Arthion’s children cried out, simultaneously jumping upon the bed. 

“Indeed you must be, for just now, Legolas, they were telling me the story of Melian and Thingol and the Sindar Elves from the days of old. I wonder who could have told them that?” Arthion said, smiling at his brother. 

“Uncle Leaf did, Ada. He knows lots of good bed time stories.” Titheniel said, plopping down at her father’s side. 

“Indeed he does. In fact, it looks like Uncle Leaf has a story to tell me now.” The elder of Thranduil’s sons said.

“Can you tell us too, Uncle Leaf?” Erynion asked. 

“Indeed not, for it is a secret that you will have to ask your father about until he tells you, for I am bound by an oath of silence. But your father will certainly not be!” Legolas said to his niece and nephew, mocking urgency. Both children’s eyes grew wide as they looked at each other and smiled. “Your mother will be looking for you shortly, though. Find her first, and then come back and pester your father for the tale!” Legolas said. 

“We will be back, Ada!” Erynion said, casting a glance at his father before sprinting off giggling, his sister not far behind. 

“Erynion, you run too fast!” She shouted as she rounded the corner and exited the room, leaving both Legolas and Arthion chuckling in their wake. 

“Legolas, I know not what to say. I am forever in your debt for all you do for Erynion and Titheniel. They love you so dearly.” Arthion said, suddenly serious. 

“Brother, as you have done for me I do for you. You watch out for me in our mother’s absence as I watch out for your elflings in your absence.” Legolas said candidly as he sat on the chair next to Arthion’s bed. The elder, apparently speechless, smiled meaningfully at his younger brother and put his hand on Legolas’ shoulder.

After a moment, Arthion asked, “What news of Mirkwood, then?” 

“Ah, yes, Mirkwood…” Legolas chuckled, and proceeded to recount his morning’s discussion with their father concerning Gollum. 

“Do you feel as though you can truly trust the creature? He seems devious, all that I’ve heard of him,” Arthion asked after Legolas had told his story. 

“Truly, I do not know, but this is the only way to show Ada that I am trying, and I believe that it will do Gollum some good. He is truly a pitiable creature. It is cruel that his life has been so altered by such a small but terrible thing.” Legolas said. 

“You have ever been the compassionate one,” Arthion observed. 

“Well, one of us has to be.” Legolas joked. His older brother laughed. 

“Indeed!” Arthion chuckled. 

At that moment, the door opened and much to Legolas’ dismay, Anariel walked in with extra gauze with which to rebind Arthion’s wounds. There was an awkward moment when the two caught each others’ gaze and looked away suddenly. It did not go unmissed by Arthion. 

“Mae govannen, Lady Anariel, how do you fare?” Arthion asked, interceding for his younger brother. 

“All is well with me, My Lord. Indeed, it is you we are worried about today!” She said as cheerfully as she could. Legolas stood and moved out of her way so she could re-bandage his brother’s shoulder. He felt something strange in his chest as he brushed past Anariel and caught the scent of flowers that ever lingered around her.

“Perhaps I should come back at another time…” Legolas started to say. 

“You will do no such thing, brother. Stay, and tell me news. What adventures have you and Lady Anariel had lately?” Arthion asked. 

Anariel and Legolas looked at each other, as if they were trying to get their stories straight through eye contact. It was almost more than the young prince wanted to bear, staring into Anariel’s deep eyes and seeing the fury that was within them. 

“Not many, my Lord. For the Prince and I have both been rather preoccupied.” Anariel answered for them, breaking the staring contest. 

“Indeed? That is unfortunate. I should hope my return should ease some of this for you two?” Arthion asked. 

“Indeed I think not.” Anariel said matter-of-factly. Legolas felt a pain in his chest he could not describe at her words. He cleared his throat for no reason. 

Arthion, dismayed at her words, spoke little more than to thank Anariel for her aide and to say goodbye as she left. After she was gone, he gave Legolas an incredulous look.

“What was that?” He asked. 

“What was what?” Legolas replied. 

“You know full well what I mean.” Arthion replied. “You two have been nearly attached at the hip since you met. Why do you now act as strangers?” 

“I believe she is angry with me.” Legolas said. 

“Thank you for that, brother, for it was very difficult to see for myself,” Arthion retorted sarcastically. “What happened?” 

“I cannot answer with certainty. Things have been… confusing to say the least, for the longest time.” Legolas sighed angrily as he sat down with all the force gravity could provide on the end of Arthion’s bed. In his brother’s angry slump, Arthion suddenly realized Legolas’ plight. 

“You have feelings for her.” Arthion said. Legolas turned his head and stared at his brother. 

“Come again?” Legolas asked. 

“The stare you two shared had more intensity than the rays of the sun on a hot day. There is more here than you realize, brother.” Arthion replied. 

“Just because you are the elder and married of us does not make you the expert on all things concerning love, Arthion, how are you to know my feelings when I myself do not?” His younger brother said angrily. 

“I do not pretend to be all-knowing, Legolas. Indeed, I do not know all love, but it seems to me that you and Anariel have a special bond that you share with no other person here in Mirkwood. And am I wrong, that she is most likely angry with you for not spending time with her, and that you do not spend time with her for your confusion about your feelings?” 

Legolas was silent. 

“Am I right?” Arthion prompted. 

“I must leave. My duties begin shortly.” Legolas excused himself as he rose from his seat at the edge of Arthion’s bed and turned for the door.

“Think on what I said, Legolas.” Arthion said. 

Legolas turned and nodded at his brother noncommittally before leaving the room completely. 

~

That night, Legolas and ten other elves went down to collect Gollum for his walk through the forest. As two of the guards were trying to wrangle the creature out of his cell, thoughts of his afternoon’s interaction with Anariel coursed through the young princes’ mind, distracting him from the matter at hand. 

How frustrating the dealings with elleth were, Legolas thought to himself. And how presumptuous was Arthion, to suggest that he was actually in love with Anariel. How, indeed, would Arthion know such things when he was absent most of the time? What a silly idea; Legolas in love with Anariel. Silly indeed! 

“He bit me!” One of the elves suddenly exclaimed, drawing Legolas out of his brooding. Some of the others in the room laughed at their compatriot while Gollum hissed rather maliciously. Nonetheless, Legolas noticed that they had successfully gotten a rope around one of Gollum’s ankles and he was out of his cell.

“Captain, we are ready,” One of his subordinates said. 

“Aye. Let us be on our way. We will take the north road, about a half-mile away from the halls, we will turn and come back through the deer paths. I do not wish to travel far at night, for fear of an attack. Is that clear?” Legolas asked. 

Nods around the room told the young prince that it was time to embark on their experiment. Legolas walked towards the door and opened it. 

“Come now, Gollum. We shall take you on a walk through our forest.” He said. Gollum tipped his head, examining Legolas carefully. 

“Should we trust it?” He muttered to himself. Legolas tried with difficulty to repress the urge to roll his eyes. “No trust have we for the elvses… but go we must…” Gollum replied to himself in a different tone. The creature began to crawl towards Legolas and then through the door. The elf who held his rope followed the captive, and the rest of the company followed. 

As Legolas followed his compatriots out the door, he caught the sounds of Gollum singing a song about fish, and this time did not bother to restrain his rolling eyes as he sighed. 

“What am I doing?” He asked, looking up as if the ceiling had the answer.


Chapter 18 - Aníron

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

Just FYI – the title of this chapter means “Desire”. And, HOLY BUCKETS! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!! TWO MORE CHAPTERS! 

--------------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Eighteen – Aníron


It was now June in Mirkwood, and despite the fact that June was generally a happy time in the Elvenking’s realm, the shadow had descended so quickly upon the forest that it was difficult to remember that it was spring, much less that there was a time before this that had been happy. 

Legolas was no deviation from this mindset. On this particular afternoon he once again found himself at odds with his father. He and Arthion were in their father’s study discussing the military plans for Mirkwood in case of an attack from Dol Guldur when Thranduil had rather nonchalantly announced Arthion’s redeployment. 

“Adar, what are you doing!?” Legolas spat out at his father’s announcement, disregarding any protocol that would have usually been in place. 

“I am redeploying my captain. Do you have any other course of action?” Thranduil asked, leaning back in his chair behind his desk and folding his hands. Legolas’ look was incredulous, as was Arthion’s as he watched his brother’s outburst. 

“Send me!” Legolas said. “I have no wife or children to care for! What should Arthion’s family do if he is slain?” 

Arthion’s stare then turned into a look of mild amusement, as elves were not accustomed to speaking about each other’s deaths. “Legolas,” he said quietly, trying to calm his brother down. Legolas would not have it. 

“Adar, for years you have kept me chained here for whatever fear you see fit to excuse yourself with. It is no longer fair to me or my brothers that you should keep me here when I am just as qualified as my brothers, and I have less reason to stay in your halls!”

“Qualified in skill with the bow, maybe, ion-nin (1), but you have not the experience of the forest that your brothers have - ” 

“Because you keep me here! Give me a week with Arthion’s brigade and I will be just as learned as he!” Legolas interjected. 

“But can the brigade afford your ignorance?” Thranduil asked. Arthion looked dismayed at his father’s comment. 

Legolas seethed with anger as he snapped back at his father, “When will you stop punishing me for the death of Naneth?” 

Arthion seemingly didn’t know which to be more astounded by, his father, or his brother. In the moments of silence that followed, he waited in trepidation for Thranduil’s response. The Elvenking gave a steely glare to his youngest, who was himself, determined not to blink. 

“Legolas, you undermine the sacrifice she made,” Thranduil said sighing and putting his head in his hand. 

“I beg to differ!” Legolas shouted. 

“You do, then? You honor your mother’s death by marching off to die yourself, where is the honor in that? Tell me, my son, for I do not see it!” Thranduil replied, growing angrier by the minute. 

“Where is the honor in keeping me caged like an animal? Is that what Naneth wanted?” His son returned. 

“Your mother died that you might live! And I will see it done!” Thranduil finally shouted, standing up so quickly that he knocked his chair backwards. 

Legolas glared at his father with a face that spoke of a bad taste in his mouth. More moments of silence passed between them before any one of them spoke again. 

“Naneth died that I might live well.” Legolas said before turning on his heel and leaving his father’s study and slamming the door behind him. 

Arthion looked at his father, who slumped back down in his chair with a heaving sigh. “I cannot keep him much longer, Arthion. He is like the river walled; soon he will spill over the dam and will be gone.” Thranduil said. 

“Then you must learn to let him go.” Arthion said quietly. Father and son looked at each other with gazes that spoke more understanding than words ever could.

~

After spending the rest of the afternoon hours hidden away from his father and brother, Legolas came to the conclusion that he was very good at brooding. In spite of himself, he smiled as he took a bite of lembas. 

The Prince had hidden himself away atop the lookout where he usually went when he was upset. He had not spent all day there, in truth he had spent much of it at the shooting range relieving some stress upon some unsuspecting targets, and even more still in the library, memorizing things to occupy his mind. However, there came a time when Legolas realized that his mind needed quiet, so he snuck into the kitchens in his home and stole away with lembas bread before making his way to his usual perch to watch the sunset. 

At present, he sat balanced precariously cross-legged on the railing, letting the last warmth of the sun soak into his face. The sky was turning a very deep shade of pink when Legolas heard the door behind him open and he felt his shoulders slump, for he knew he was discovered. 

“Alright, Arthion, I will - ” 

But when Legolas turned to see who was there, it was not Arthion at all. Anariel stood there. She wore the white dress that healers wore when they were on duty, and her hair was half-pulled back with a few curly strands askew about her face. She looked uncharacteristically shy as she stood there.

“Anariel?” Legolas almost whispered. When he spoke, the elleth seemed to regain some of her poise and cleared her throat. 

“The Lord Arthion came to me late this afternoon and told me that he could not find you. He asked if I would help him, and since I have no qualms with your brother I said I would aide in the search for you. But now, as you are found and my message relayed, I take my leave. Goodbye, Prince Le - ”

Before Anariel could get the last syllables of Legolas’ name out, he interrupted her. 

“You may stay, if you wish. Long have we needed to speak to one another. But if you feel as though I am unworthy of your time, I wish not to waste it.” Legolas said, sounding ashamed of himself. Anariel tipped her head at him and her brow raised. 

“Do you wish for me to stay?” She asked with skepticism. 

Legolas knew his answer right away, but he held it in, for fear of sounding overeager. However, his cover was terrible as when he delivered his answer, it was with a great sigh. 

“Yes.” 

Anariel offered him a small, yet hopeful smile and then walked over and sat on the railing with him. “I suppose I can afford you a small amount of my very precious time.” She said, teasing him. Legolas wanted to sing. When was the last time she teased him, or smiled at him? He could not remember, but how he treasured actions. 

Legolas had, in fact, thought much of what Arthion had suggested to him almost a month ago, that he might love Anariel. Much to his own dismay and frustration, he realized that his older brother was correct in his assumptions. Still, yet, he did not know her feelings for him, and he wished to not to push her away again, so he would offer her repair to things past, if he could. But as she sat next to him looking at him, it was nearly more than the prince could bear to sit still. 

As the two gazed at each other, Legolas rejoiced in the happiness he could see shining in Anariel’s eyes. He had not seen such joy since the days before the Battle of Five Armies. 

“You are staring, my lord.” Anariel said. Almost too quickly, Legolas looked away. 

“Apologies,” He said. 

“I need no apologies,” The elleth giggled at him. “You said you wished to speak to me. What about, my prince?” Legolas turned once again to look at her with sadness on his face, and Anariel’s smile instantly disappeared and it was replaced with a look of worry. 

“I wish to say that I am sorry for my actions these past years and months. I have betrayed your friendship with my selfishness. There are many things I should have confided to you, and many times when I should have made time to be with you, but I did not for reasons I feel I may never be able to explain. I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I must ask for it all the same. Anariel, I feel lost without you.” Legolas said earnestly. 

Anariel studied him for a moment, but suddenly took his hand in hers. The prince felt his heart flutter and his stomach turn over as she moved closer to him. Her touch was torture. 

“You are my dearest and truest friend, Legolas. How can I not forgive you?” She asked, looking up into his blue eyes with her own. 

How he wanted to kiss her. The desire was nearly unquenchable, but she had used that word, “friend”, so he would honor that. Legolas reached forward and embraced her tightly. He felt Anariel’s muscles stiffen momentarily, but soon her arms reached up and looped around his neck. The youngest son of Thranduil felt as though he could shed tears as he breathed her in. Wildflowers. How is it that she always smelt of wildflowers? 

It was at that moment when the prince realized that his heart no longer was his own. He had given it away unwittingly to Anariel. And by the laws and customs of the Eldar, he knew he would never love again like this. Legolas tensed himself against her, trying to hold in a pyre of emotions that seemed to have lit on fire. This did not go unnoticed. Anariel pulled away, but did not move a significant distance away from him. 

“Legolas, what troubles you?” She asked quietly. 

The prince looked at her with distress in his eyes. How in the world was he going to avoid this? 

“I, I can’t…” He stuttered. Since when did elves stutter, Legolas wondered, as he grasped at straws. How could he lie to her? 

“Legolas?” She asked again, this time taking his hand. 

“My lady, you cause me quite a conundrum.” Legolas said in a scattered tone of voice as he looked at their joined hands. Anariel stared at him with a confused look on her face. 

“What is it about contact with me that afflicts you so?” She asked perceptively. 

Legolas, not sure what to do with himself, stood up and laughed as he began to pace towards the door, and back again, staring at his shoes. 

“I must admit to you, Anariel, I am quite at a loss.” He began as he continued to pace. “If I tell you the truth, I fear loosing you forever, but if I lie I will never be able to live with myself.” He explained “Truly, these years I have experienced agony because I could not let myself be near you, and now that I am, I only experience more!” 

Anariel slid off the railing and reached out and put her hands on Legolas’ shoulders. “Do you not think, Legolas, that I have experienced the same agony in your absence?” she asked quietly, her blue eyes piercing his. 

“I know not.” He admitted. 

Suddenly, Legolas could not understand what was happening as Anariel’s hands shifted to the base of his neck, pulling his head down to meet hers. Slowly and softly, their foreheads met and their eyes were so close that Legolas felt as though he was staring into a deep ocean when he looked in Anariel’s. 

“Legolas, I need you,” Anariel said just above a whisper. 

Was this an invitation? Legolas wasn’t sure what to do, but it did not seem to matter that he did not know what to do, for his limbs moved without his permission anyway. Before he could stop himself, he realized that he had reached up with his arm and touched his hand to her face, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. Anariel breathed in and closed her eyes. With his other arm, Legolas reached behind her waist and pulled her closer to him. Anariel opened her eyes and tipped her head back, looking into his eyes again. The prince found himself leaning closer to her, as if to kiss her. 

Suddenly and most unwelcome, a loud horn blew in the distance. Shouts could be heard. The two pulled away from each other slightly, though still in each other’s arms, and peered into the distance. It was at this moment that Legolas realized that the sun had set completely and that night had fallen. He felt as though he were coming out of a dream as the gears in his mind turned slowly, trying to guess the commotion out in the forest. Then, abruptly, Legolas had a terrifying thought. 

“Gollum,” He said. Anariel looked up at him curiously. 

“Gollum?” She asked. 

“He would not come down from his tree last night, and we set a watch at the base of the tree, they were to retrieve him tonight…” He started to say. The horn sounded again. It was a distress call. 

“They are in trouble, I must away,” Legolas said painfully and urgently. He moved towards the door, but Anariel held him firmly there with her hands. 

“Legolas,” she said, gazing up at him with fear in her eyes. 

“I will return, I promise.” He said. Desperately, He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before tearing himself away from her. 

Legolas flung the door to the stairs open and flew down them, fearing that if he were to linger any longer near Anariel he might never leave. His chest was on fire and his head swam as he ran for the stables, desperately trying to clear his head of the fog that settled there. As he reflected upon his feelings, Legolas was nearly certain that he’d never felt this woozy before, and nor had he ever loved the feeling as much.


Chapter 19 - Amarth

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. 

"Amarth" means "fate" 

---------------------------------------------------------

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Nineteen – Amarth


Fifteen days. That’s how long Legolas had been on a horse, in the woods, searching for Gollum. Legolas vowed to himself that if they ever caught the foul beast, he would string him up from a tree by his toenails. 

Luckily, when Legolas tore through the stables on the eve of the attack, a party of scouts had just returned from the night’s rounds and he was able to rally them to accompany him to Gollum’s tree, where there was a terrible sight to behold indeed. Nearly twice as many Orcs as there were Elves were at the base of Gollum’s tree attacking Gollum’s caretakers, all well the evil creature himself was up in the branches cackling and singing. In the confusion, Gollum slipped away nearly unnoticed, if it were not for one keen elf, who saw his departure. Legolas and a few others took off after him while the rest stayed behind and drove off the Orcs. After two days, the elves found trace of Gollum’s tracks, but much to their dismay, his tracks were soon surrounded by that of a group of Orcs’ footprints as well. Nonetheless, Legolas and his party pursued Gollum as far as they could, even when it started to rain. 

At present, the prince and his compatriots galloped on southwards, feeling as though they may finally be hot on the heels of their escapee. 

“Captain, I fear we may need to turn back soon, we are far south.” One of Legolas’ companions mentioned. 

Legolas nodded. “Aye, but we must try to pursue him as far as we can,” he pulled the reins on his horse and halted the chase momentarily to get bearings. “Pray, how far south are we?” he asked. 

“Sir,” said an elf who nudge his horse forward and took out a map. Legolas recognized him as Mardion. “We are far east of the Enchanted Stream, as it stands now, we are more than halfway to the Mountains of Mirkwood – deep in spider territory, Captain.” Mardion reported. 

“We will pursue him a little longer. I do not think we can follow him as far as the Mountains.” Legolas said. 

“Aye, sir.” His compainions murmured. 

Legolas pushed his horse on and tried to keep his thoughts on the task at hand. Truly, his mind had not always been on the pursuit of Gollum, as it should have. He could not shake the last minutes he had with Anariel from his mind. When he remembered how close together they had been, he could feel his heart stop and restart itself. How cruelly was he ripped away from her! 

More thoughts than Anariel occupied his mind from time to time, however. Often he troubled himself over Gollum’s knowledge of the Elvenking’s halls. Would he tell the Orcs of their location? What would happen if the elves in Mirkwood were to be under siege? Who would come to their aid? Who would know of their plight? 

Of course, every once in a while, Legolas worried over what his father was going to say to him as well, but that was certainly not foremost on his mind. 

Suddenly and most unwelcome, the rain began to come down harder than it had before. It occurred to Legolas that this could be a good sign for him and his party to turn back, but if they were fifteen days away from his father’s halls, which direction they were going in the rain probably wouldn’t matter. They would still be soaked. So, the young prince groaned but continued following Gollum’s tracks until, suddenly, they happened upon a clearing where the Orc tracks split up and spread out. Legolas pulled his horse to a halt, as did his companions. 

Legolas surveyed the clearing, paying attention to the tracks, though his attention was diverted to a small pine tree that had vines spiraling up its trunk. The tree was ten feet tall, or so, but was very thin. Oddly enough though, it seemed to be the only growing thing in the clearing. Stranger still, was that the rest of the trees were not pine trees. The young prince knew not how such a different tree would come to grow in such a place. 

It was also odd, he thought, that this place seemed so familiar to him. Legolas could certainly not recall ever being this far south in his life before. The prince dismounted his horse and walked over to the tree. 

“Captain?” One in his party asked. 

“This place seems strangely familiar,” Legolas said, not looking back as he reached out his hand and touched one of the leaves growing out of the vines. A warm sensation flooded his body, and for seemingly no reason, Legolas felt an odd sense of comfort. The trees around them whispered intently, but before the prince could understand their words, one of the elves in his party signaled that he heard noises. All of the elves descended their horses and crouched low to the ground, listening. 

Legolas disregarded his itching sense of déjà vu and tuned his ears. His stomach turned when he distinguished the noises of spiders moving about in the forest. He made a hand signal to his companions declaring his thoughts, and they all seemed to agree on the foe that was nearby. 

As quietly as he possibly could, the elven prince sneaked his way back to his horse and gave silent directions to ride back to the Halls. Despite his curiosity, Legolas knew that he and his friends were no longer safe this far south. It was with animosity that he made the decision to abandon pursuit of Gollum, and his inspection of the site from which they were departing. However, this was no romp through the forest. 

When all of the elves were back on their horses, they sped away into the night as fast as they could. Legolas, however, could not disregard the sudden warmth he felt within himself after coming in contact with the pine in the clearing. 

~

The party of elves found the return trip to be much faster than their chase through Mirkwood, as the path that the Orcs and Gollum had taken took turns to throw off the elves’ pursuit. The distance between their point of halt and the Elvenking’s halls was probably only about twenty-five miles, however the distance that Gollum had traveled to avoid them was certainly more than twice that, much to Legolas’ chagrin. 

It took the prince and his companions about two days to reach the Elvenking’s halls. When they rode into the stables, many stopped to stare at their disheveled appearance. It also appeared that many seemed to notice their lack of a prisoner, and began to question them straight away. Once Legolas had dismounted his horse, Legolas gave orders.

“Ask these elves no questions, for our labors have been long and hard. Let them dry themselves and take rest, and I shall make a report to the King on this matter. You may question his advisors if you so wish,” he said. And with that, Legolas departed for his home to change his sopping wet clothes for dry ones. 

When he opened the door to his family’s home, Legolas was rather taken by surprise see Arthion sitting in their common room reading a scroll. 

“Brother!” Legolas exclaimed. “What keeps you here? Has Ada not sent you back to your battalion?” 

“Nay, in your absence he thought it best I stay here,” Arthion said, dismayed at Legolas’ sudden appearance. “You’re soaking! What news? Have you found the foul creature?” 

“Sadly my answer is no, but please let me tell the tale after I have exchanged my clothes and had a bit of rest, it has been at least fifteen days since I last have been still.” Legolas pleaded. Arthion nodded. 

“Go, I will tell Ada that you have returned so he does not worry more than he needs to.” 

“I have a feeling that he already has worried more than he needs to.” Legolas said sarcastically. Arthion chuckled a little as he waved to his brother and walked out the door. 

~

Legolas was rather torn in two once he was dry and clean again. He desperately wanted to go see Anariel, but on the other hand he knew that if he did not go see to his father, his life would forever be miserable. Though he tried to come up with ways to meet Anariel for a short time on the way to his father’s study, he knew that it was useless. Any time he spent with her would not be short. Therefore, with much frustration, Legolas made up his mind to go see his father first. 

He made his way down the corridors to his father’s study and ignored the cloud of advisors that regularly hovered by near the office. Many questions were directed at him, but he ignored them all as he knocked on his father’s door. 

“Enter,” Came Thranduil’s voice. 

Legolas pushed the door open to see, as he expected, the Elvenking sitting behind his desk reading something. Arthion was there also, reading the same paper that their father seemed to be. When Thranduil saw his youngest standing in the doorway he jumped up out of his chair and had Legolas in his arms within minutes.

“Ion-nin!” Thranduil exclaimed as he hugged his youngest prince. Legolas, who felt rather childish standing there – a grown elf being squeezed to death by his father – returned the embrace nonetheless. 

“Hello, Adar.” He replied, trying to humor his father. 

When his father finally saw fit to look upon his son again and withdrew his embrace, he stared into Legolas’ eyes. 

“What news?” He asked his son as he motioned for Legolas to sit down and moved to do the same. The youngest prince of Mirkwood sighed as he rather ungracefully plopped himself down in a chair that faced his father’s desk and began to relay his story of Gollum’s escape, as best as he understood it. Thranduil listened to Legolas intently. Arthion also contributed to the tale, mentioning that two elves had perished in the fight against the Orcs that had assailed them. However, the elves that lived continued to fight the terrible creatures off and finally those Orcs that did not die themselves retreated south. 

Legolas was rather upset at the news of two deaths, but continued on until he mentioned the place where their pursuit of Gollum stopped. 

“Past the halfway point to the Mountains of Mirkwood, we came upon a clearing that was desolate but for one tree that had vines that curled up its trunk, we - ”

“You say a tree grows there?” Thranduil suddenly asked. Legolas tilted his head, but answered. 

“Yes, though it was strange, there was no grass or any other plant for yards. It seemed very familiar to me, though I know that I have not been there before.” He replied. 

“What kind of tree was it?” Thranduil asked. 

Legolas glanced at Arthion, who had an equally confused look on his face. The youngest shrugged as he replied; 

“It was a pine, if memory serves.” 

Arthion’s head snapped down to meet his father’s gaze, but Thranduil only looked down at his desk and put his chin in his hand, covering his mouth as if in amazement. Long moments passed before anyone spoke. The Elvenking knew well the place that his son spoke of, though he had not seen it with his own eyes, not in many a year, anyway. 

“Adar?” Legolas asked. “Is there significance to this?” 

Thranduil looked up at his youngest son with glistening eyes. “Ion-nin, you must know this, for I would not dare keep it from you. That clearing is the place where you were born.” He said with certainty. 

Legolas felt like someone had dropped ten heavy stones in his lap. Naturally, the place where he was born was one in the same with the place in which his mother died. 

“Your mother always loved the pines in the Mountains, and forever smelled of them… it was how I first came to love her, I think.” Thranduil said softly and mournfully. 

“A… Ada,” Legolas stuttered, feeling as if he should speak, but could not find words. 

“It is good to know that the earth has honored her so well.” The Elvenking spoke again, smiling at his son. Legolas swallowed and promptly looked down at his hands folded in his lap, feeling inadequate before his father. More moments of silence passed between the three. 

“Legolas,” Thranduil finally said. His youngest son looked up to show full attention to his father. “Just days prior to your return to my halls I received a letter from Lord Elrond of Imladris.” He said. Legolas looked confused, but his father held up a hand, silently saying that all would be explained. 

“He has called a council that will meet in October concerning The One Ring, and he has asked for me to send an emissary to represent the Elves of Mirkwood. I think I shall send you.” Thranduil said. 

“Me?” Legolas exclaimed in utter shock. 

“Yes, I think it would do you good to travel some outside these halls. And considering I plan to withdraw Hérion and Arthion’s troops closer to home, I believe that the Interior Guard will see far less action, and you will be more inclined to pester me about it.” The Elvenking explained. Legolas looked like he might protest, but before he had the chance, his father continued. 

“I will be sending two of my advisors with you, but make no mistake, I would like your voice to be heard at this Council, not theirs. They will only be there for what they are retained to do – advise.” Thranduil continued. 

“But Ada, why send me?” Legolas asked, still uncomprehending. 

Thranduil laughed. “Legolas, surely you do not revoke your desire to travel outside the halls of Mirkwood? It was not three weeks ago we stood in the same places and you chastised me for my tight rope on you! And besides, ion-nin, who better to explain what happened to Gollum than the one who allowed him, how did you put it? Ah, yes, ‘Liberties’. I would like you to depart by the end of the week. With things as dangerous as they are, the sooner you are out of Mirkwood, the better.” 

“In two days?” Legolas asked.

“Yes.” His father replied.

Legolas was rather at a loss. After a lifetime of being kept away from dangerous tasks and risks, he did not know how to accept his assignment. Nor was he sure that he wanted it. He rather wanted to stay with Anariel, but now that his departure was set, Legolas would not want to initiate anything with her if he were to leave. 

And then, suddenly, a thought occurred to the young prince. 

“You’re sending me to Rivendell to protect me,” Legolas said. 

Thranduil chuckled. “Yes, it would seem that way.” 

Still at a loss for words, Legolas shook his head slightly and shifted his weight. He then looked at his father and sighed. 

“Thank you, Adar. I believe I have some preparations to make.” Thranduil’s youngest son said. And with that, Legolas turned and left his father’s study. 

Arthion looked at his father. “What are you doing?” He asked in curiosity. 

“Something within me has been telling me that I have needed to let Legolas go for a long time, Arthion. I think it is the part of your mother within me... And your mother would not have Legolas trapped within these walls. Though, I do not know why I haven’t let myself see it before now.” Thranduil replied, not taking his eyes off the door through which Legolas had left.

~

The next afternoon, Legolas sought out Anariel in the library, for he had heard from her friends that she was there. A great weight was upon him, for he knew that he would not see Anariel after this for some time. 

Indeed he found her in the library. It did not take him long, for he guessed that she would be where the two once sat together to meet long years ago. When he found her, Legolas stopped briefly to watch her as she read the scroll in her hands. His heart was pounding as he thought of the words to say. Unfortunately, Anariel looked up from her reading and saw him, cutting his chance to formulate words short. 

“Legolas!” She cried as she dropped the scroll and ran to him. Before he had a chance to register what was happening, Anariel had collided with him and wrapped her arms around him. “I worried so when I heard the news, are you alright?” she asked, pulling away to look at him. 

“Indeed I am unhurt.” Legolas confirmed, unable to hide the sadness in his voice. Anariel perceived this. 

“Is there something wrong?” She asked. Legolas pulled away from her completely and motioned to two chairs nearby. 

“Let us sit,” He said as he sat down. Anariel did as he asked, but she sat rather close to him. 

“Legolas, what happened?” Anariel asked. 

“I leave tomorrow.” Legolas replied. 

“To where?” 

“To Imladris, Lord Elrond has called a council concerning the Dark Lord and other things. I am to go and explain how Gollum came to escape our custody.” He said. 

“When will you return?” Anariel pressed him. 

“I know not. The Council does not meet until October, and even then I know not how long we will deliberate for, though I think it will be of some duration, for my father seems to be sending me there for protection of some kind.” Legolas explained. 

“Then I will go with you.” Anariel said, taking Legolas’ hand. Immediately, Legolas withdrew his hand and gave her a reproachful look, though there was fear behind it. He had not anticipated this. He had anticipated having to tell Anariel to wait for him to return, not bar her from following him. 

“You will do no such thing!” he cried. Anariel looked confused and hurt. “It is too dangerous.” Legolas said. 

“But safe enough for you!” Anariel argued. 

“It is a long and trying journey over the Misty Mountains, and I do not know what will befall us along the way, Anariel, if you were hurt…” 

“I could certainly heal myself.” She snorted sarcastically. “Legolas, what happened all those nights ago, did it not mean anything to you?” she asked him. 

“I will not allow you to accompany us, Anariel.” Legolas replied, disregarding her question. 

“Legolas, you cannot tell me that you don’t feel the same as I do,” 

“It was a mistake,” Legolas replied, averting his eyes from her. Though Legolas’ heart told him otherwise, he knew she would not just stay behind without justification.

“I don’t believe you.” Anariel said, making sure to stare at him just as he was staring at his shoes. “I am going with you, Legolas.” 

“As your prince I forbid you, Anariel.” He said finally in a rigid voice. 

Anariel’s pleas stopped and her face turned stony. Never before had Legolas given her an order as her superior. They had always regarded each other as equals. In some way, Legolas hoped that this action taken by him would push her away so the separation would be easier on her.

The elleth stood, her expression unfaltering as she moved. She looked down on Legolas as she spoke. 

“You may run from your heart, Legolas, but you will never be able to hide from it.” She said. Then, Anariel turned on her heel and was gone before Legolas could say any more. 

~

The next morning, Legolas stood in front of the great door of the halls of Mirkwood, bidding farewell to his family and friends before he and the emissary of advisors and guards that accompanied him was to leave for Imladris. Anariel was not there, as he didn’t expect her to be, however, her absence still made Legolas’ heart ache a little. But it was for the best, he told himself. He’d rather have Anariel safe and unaware of his feelings than in danger and by his side.

Though, at present, he was attending his niece and nephew who were fit to be tied at their uncle’s departure. 

“But Ada does not tell as good bedtime stories as you!” Titheniel pouted. Arthion looked dismayed, and Legolas laughed as he knelt down before the elflings. 

“And who will help me with archery?”

“Fear not, little ones. I will learn some new bedtime stories in Imladris and send them to your father so hey may read them to you. And Erynion, if you remember to keep both your eyes open you will no longer need my tutelage in archery.” He said, pulling both children into his arms. 

“I will be glad of the help!” Arthion chuckled. Legolas rose again to his feet and embraced his eldest brother. 

“Be safe, brother.” Arthion said. 

“I will.” Legolas replied. “Tell Hérion I will look forward to seeing him when I return.” 

“It will be done.” Arthion assured him. 

Legolas then turned to his father, who had a somber smile on his face. He took a scroll out of his pocket and handed it to his youngest son.

“This I would like you to deliver to Lord Elrond. It is the account that we have collected of the activities in Dol Guldur.” He said matter-of-factly. Legolas took the scroll and nodded. 

“I will do so, Adar.” He replied. 

Thranduil smiled at Legolas and embraced him. “My son, I am most proud of you.” He said quietly. The Elvenking’s youngest son had a look of disbelief on his face, for he could not think of a reason for his father’s pride. Legolas pulled back and looked at his father with questions on his face. Thranduil laughed. 

“Need I a reason, Legolas?” He asked. “Ion-nin, I have watched you grow, seen your struggles and heard your wisdom. You are my son. I love you, and I will always be proud of you.” 

Legolas smiled and hugged his father again. “Hannon le, Ada.” He said, though he still felt his father had no reason for pride.  

Thranduil motioned to those waiting behind Legolas to depart. “Go, ion-nin, with the blessings of your family and all of Mirkwood.” 

The young prince nodded and walked over to his horse and mounted the steed. As he did, he cast a glance at some of the elves who had come to see them off, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of Anariel. She was not there. Legolas sighed, but did not give away anymore sorrow than that. It is better this way, he told himself. 

Signaling that he was ready to leave, the guards and advisors made ready to depart the halls. Thranduil held up his hand in farewell to his son. Legolas returned the gesture as he heard the doors behind him open. Turning his horse towards the doors, he urged the steed forward and out of the gates of his father’s halls. 

As Legolas rode out into the forest with his advisors and guards, he pushed all thoughts of what he was leaving behind out of his mind and thought only of the path before him. The young prince of Mirkwood knew not what lay before him, but there was a foreboding in his mind telling him that something was about to happen that was beyond his wildest imagining.


Chapter 20 - Epilogue

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Epilogue

Thranduil examined the piece of parchment in his hands with great scrutiny. It had been delivered just minutes before by a messenger from Ithilien, who said it was most urgent. Though, after reading the contents, Thranduil was unsure about the word “urgent”. Indeed, it was of great importance however, it only contained news of something that had most certainly passed already. Nonetheless, Thranduil appreciated receiving the news as quickly as he did. 

Smiling in spite of himself, Thranduil read it over again. 

“Dearest Adar, 

Though I am sure the news has traveled quickly through the realms of Middle-Earth, it grieves me to inform you of the passing of Aragorn Elessar, King of Gondor and my dear friend. Let it be known in Eryn Lasgalen that the elves of Ithilien offered what we could in his honor, and that the songs we sang may be remembered in the annals of Gondor for years to come. 

Now Gimli and I are all that remain of our Fellowship here in Middle-Earth. My heart yearns for what I have long pushed aside, and so Ada, it is with a heavy heart I write to tell you of my journey across the sea. 

For years, I have known that my heart no longer dwells in the land which I once called home. Though a part of me will always belong to Eryn Lasgalen, I find that I must sail West to join with those who have gone before me. I know that this news will likely be met with much sadness, but I believe you know the feelings which I now follow. For indeed, I know that you wed our mother only to be separated from her for many long years. Such is my burden, and so I sail. 

Know, Ada, that I will always love you deeply and I will miss you greatly, as I will miss my brothers and nieces and nephews. Please share this letter with them, and do not let them be grieved by my parting. Also, do not allow yourself or anyone else fret over the loneliness of this long journey, for I am bringing Gimli with me to, as he says, ‘keep me out of trouble’.

May the peace and blessings of the Valar be upon you and our family always.

Your loving son,
Legolas”

The Elvenking sighed and set the letter down on his desk, wiping his eyes from the tears that had formed once again. Though, Thranduil smiled. 

“Yes, my son, I know your burden,” He said to no one. “And I hope that you find the peace of heart you seek with those in the West.” 

With that, Thranduil rose from his chair and left his study, Legolas’ letter still sitting on his desk. 


THE END


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Author’s Note: Now, you may feel as though there are some unresolved issues with this plot arch that I’ve created. This is intentional. Why?

My intent with the History of Legolas series was to sum up my best guesses of Legolas’ life BEFORE he left Mirkwood. Not beyond. Therefore, I have followed this story with another, called "I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar". I may start posting it here, but for now you may find it at my Fanfiction.net account under the penname Vendie of Rivendell.

Thank you to all who helped me write this story, for your encouragement and advice. This story is for you.
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