The History of Legolas - The Last Green Leaf

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 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.