A Time To Forget

During the time the young stranger had arrived in this land another group were running for their lives as their foe and grief followed them.


Finally the Fellowship burst through the entrance to the mines of Moria and each found a place to rest and comfort each other. But Aragorn had been charged by their lost leader Gandalf to get the group to safety. He surveyed the weeping hobbits and disbelieving Boromir, Gimli and Legolas. He hated to do it but they had to keep moving, so with as much authority as he could muster he yelled, “Legolas, Boromir, Gimli get them up we must keep going, these hills will be swarming with orcs by nightfall, we must make for Lothlorien where we can do our grieving in safety.”


Frodo had moved off by himself and was sitting on a rock next to one of the few low prickly bushes that dotted the hillside. As he peered into the distance trying to come to terms with Gandalf’s loss, he thought he heard a groan coming from near the bush.


At the same time Legolas who had been scanning the hill, noticed a rough path of strewn stones ending next to the bush where Frodo was sitting. He noticed some drops of human blood along the path as he followed it. It looked as though it had been created by someone falling and sliding downhill. With his keen eyes he could also see something else. There, next to the bush was a black orc arrow standing above the ground as though it was sticking into something and around it was a pool of blood. Even more unusual was the fact there was a hand and foot close to it, but no other apparent body parts. It moved slightly and he heard the distinct clang of a sword being dropped onto the rock.


As he reached Frodo’s side he said quietly, “Frodo move away from the bush, now, stay with Boromir, Gimli and the other hobbits.”


Then he whistled up the slope and the next moment Aragorn had joined him. “Aragorn I believe there is an injured human here, this is human blood,” the elf continued quietly. However before Aragorn could reply they both heard the distinct sound of laboured breathing it sounded like the injured person was only young.


Legolas began to feel around the patch of blood and noticed it seemed to be on some kind of shimmering cloth, gently he gathered it up and pulled it towards him; however it was anchored to whoever it was by the arrow. He moved as much as he could and they were finally able to see the young man with the black hair that stuck out at all angles, beside him was an ornate sword made of a strange metal. He was dressed in what looked like a uniform but not like any either warrior had ever seen before. The boy was muttering something he didn’t completely understand but seemed to be a plea not to hurt him.


Aragorn began to inspect the boy’s injuries, “He seems to be no more than twelve or thirteen by his body, yet his face suggests he is older than that by far. He could be suffering from concussion we need to wake him up. His wrist is broken but his pack saved him from more severe damage. Legolas hold him still while I get the arrow out.”


Aragorn looked up to the others who were standing a little way from them looking apprehensive. He called to them in a reassuring voice, “It is only a young lad, although he is injured. I suggest however that you stay there, if he should awaken, too many people may well frighten him.”


With that the ranger turned back to his pack to retrieve what he would need to tend the child’s wounds. While he was doing that Legolas was trying to get the boy to awaken without any success. When all was ready, he nodded to Legolas who gently held the boy still. The elf also noticed for the first time, that some kind of energy was draining from the boy’s body. He had no time to warn Aragorn as his friend pulled the arrow out of the child.


At the same time that they both smelt the unmistakable smell of the orc poison, the last of the energy that Legolas had detected started to diminish fast and, “Aragorn, he’s stopped breathing”.


Without thinking any further, Legolas had moved behind the boy’s head and placed his hands above the boy’s heart. Closing his eyes he reached out with his soul and sought the boy’s. They were both bathed in a silver glow.


It was dark and it felt like an old soul lived in this young body, Legolas glowed as he started moving along the darkened hallway. He found he had to walk past many doors and outside of each was a dense mist that covered the corridor. Each cloud assaulted him with a powerful emotion which he was somehow able to identify. Each emotion overwhelmed him momentarily as he found himself the recipient of feelings of pain, guilt, hopelessness, betrayal, worthlessness, self-doubt, loneliness.


But every now and then he came across a lighted window. Outside of one he could see two young people about the same age as the boy, who were laughing and joking. A bit further on he came across a window where there was a great big black dog that was enthusiastically chasing a toddling child in a garden. The next window showed a mirror in a dusty room and inside the mirror was a group of people that looked like each other. Front and centre of this tableau was a man and a woman, the man had hair the colour of the boys and some kind of frames perched on his nose, the beautiful young woman had red hair and unusually green eyes which were shining happily.


Legolas kept walking until he finally reached the end of the hallway where he had to go through the deepest mist of all, that of a heavy burden. On the other side of which stood a dilapidated looking cupboard. He could hear whimpering coming from inside.


“Young one why are you hiding in this cupboard, I promise we will not hurt you. My friends and I are just trying to heal your wounds. The one called Aragorn is my best friend and one of the best healers in Arda. My name is Legolas, what name are you known by?”


The boy gulped, “I don’t know my name, all I know is that you shouldn’t try to save me, you’ll only get killed for your trouble. You and your friends should just leave; I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.” He grew quiet before adding, “Please Legolas Sir, I just want to sleep.”


Legolas was shocked that this boy seemed to have nothing to live for and was willing to go to his death. The elf knew that he couldn’t let this child give up, for no healing would be able to save him then.


“Before I go would you at least come out of there so I can say goodbye to your face and not the cupboard door.” The blond archer gently encouraged.


“I can’t I’m locked in here, besides you’ll be safe if I stay here.” The young man said plaintively.


Legolas reached for the door handle, pulled the door open easily and gently pulled the boy into his arms. At first the youth resisted violently but after a while he clung to the elf as though he would never let him go. Legolas began to sing of the Lady of the Golden Wood and the boy finally relaxed in his arms.


“I don’t know who or what you were singing about but it was beautiful, don’t stop, please!” he whispered.


“I’ll make you a deal if you come back with me now, I’ll take you to the place where the lady that the song is about lives. It is a wondrous place and they often sing even more beautifully than that. I’ll even translate the words for you and teach you my language so you will understand the original better, would you like that?” Legolas held his breath hopeful that he had finally gotten through.


“You promise that no-one will hurt me, if I come with you and that you won’t leave me.” He finally peered into Legolas blue eyes and knew that he could trust him.


“You have my word as an Elven Prince, young one. We will have to find you a name, though, I am sure Lady Galadriel will be able to give you an appropriate one. For now may I call you Mellon Nin? It means my friend in my own language.” The boy pondered for some time before reluctantly nodding his agreement.


“Shall we go now, the others will be getting anxious as this is the first time I have tried this and they were not expecting it.” He winked back at the boy, who nodded smiling.


There was a loud gasp for breath from the youth’s body, as Legolas slid to the side of him. Luckily Aragorn had been kneeling by the elf’s shoulder and stopped him from falling. Legolas slowly opened his eyes to see who was beside him and tiredly nodded to the shocked ranger, “My thanks, my friend. I did not realise how much that would take out of me. Aragorn, the child is no threat to us, only to himself. I have convinced him to stay with us for a little while longer.”



When Aragorn made no move to leave his side, he continued a little surprised. “I will take full responsibility for Mellon Nin, if that will ease your concerns. Aragorn, will you trust my judgement in this.”


The ranger simply smiled and placed a hand on the elf’s shoulder, “You know I would trust you with my life Legolas. Of course I will trust your judgement. Do you know who he is or how he came to be in the mines?”


Legolas shook his head, “Alas no, he doesn’t even know his name or where he came from. There are some other things too which we should discuss but later will suffice. I suggest that we get moving as we have delayed long enough, especially as the boy has orc poison running through his body.”


With that Legolas reverently placed the shimmering cloak in the backpack the boy had carried. Once Legolas had slung the boy’s pack over his own shoulder, he bent and lifted the youth into his arms and began to stride carefully down the hillside.


Aragorn picked up the sword and marveled at the gem in the hilt and the craftsmanship, before following his friend. Behind him his companions scrambled to retrieve their own belongings before following the ever-surprising elf. Each and every one of them were bursting with questions.