A Time To Forget

Dawn that day found the young winged horse awake and attempting to hobble around the glade. It was obvious to Legolas that it would not be long before Iriador would want to test his wings, but he knew that if anyone in Lorien saw the flying horse above the trees his charge would be the target of Lorien’s archers. Although he hoped that Lady Galadriel had warned them to be careful what they shot at during this time.


The morning light had indeed confirmed the blond archer’s concern as to how Iriador could be perceived by others. Only he knew the truth, but it didn’t help him to understand the boy’s behaviour any better. It had to be admitted that the form the boy was currently in, represented what Legolas had seen in the child’s soul perfectly, reminding him of death and despair, thus not a form that would be loved.


The blond archer decided that for now he would just have to make sure the boy was fed and felt safe and secure with him, as it would be with any young animal that Legolas befriended. One of the things that Legolas thought would help was if he told Iriador about himself first.


There was one thing the Prince of Mirkwood could not deny however; he was absolutely out of his depth in trying to heal the horse/boy.


With Iriador once more munching on an apple beside him at the fire, Legolas felt he had to voice his concern. “Iriador, I am afraid that I am not sure how to treat your wounds. For one thing the wing joint has grown right over the arrow wound; I fear that wing may be a little weaker than the other. All I can do for it is keep the joint clean and apply some herbs to guard against any more infection. As for what would be your wrist all I can suggest is I bandage where it should be, tightly. Other than that I think that rest is the best healer no matter what form you are in.”


Iriador looked into the Prince’s blue eyes and Legolas was shocked to see that this horse had emerald green eyes and a white lightning bolt shaped patch just above his left eye. But he was distracted by the look of longing in the young horse’s eyes as he tried his wings again.


Something suddenly occurred to him and he quickly sought the answer, “Iriador, do you actually know how to fly?”


Iriador quickly nodded back in what Legolas assumed was the affirmative. “It must be instinctual to your new form then.” Legolas reasoned out loud.


“Well for today at least, I think both of us will take some rest and perhaps if you would like I shall tell you something about myself and the land you are in.”


He began with his childhood. “I am the only child of King Thranduil of Mirkwood and I had quite a happy life until my mother died. I was still what we call an elfling at the time, probably about the age you are now. It hurt for a very long time, but my father and I got past our grief together.” He noticed that Iriador was hanging his head and mentally berated himself for forgetting what he had seen and felt in the boy’s soul.


“Iriador, I am so sorry. I forgot that you too suffered a great loss, although I don’t suppose you remember who it was. The hurt is still real isn’t it young one?” The elf began to stroke Iriador’s mane to try and comfort him.


Iriador’s head leaned into the stroking and they just sat like that for a while. Legolas had the impression that the boy Iriador had been, had not been loved where he came from. Eventually he managed to coax Iriador to sleep a little in the early afternoon.


However the sleep was broken sometime later when Legolas noticed Iriador suddenly became alert and pricked up his ears his nostrils flaring as though he could smell something in the light wind that had sprung up while he was sleeping.


Thinking there might be an intruder nearby; Legolas motioned to Iriador to stay put while he grabbed his weapons and left the glade. Searching around he soon found that the cause of all the excitement was a rabbit making its way back to its burrow.


However when he got back and told Iriador, the young creature’s eyes had lit up with what Legolas was shocked to see was the same look of high alertness that he was accustomed to see on wild animals as they scented the air for prey.


He had never heard of any horse being a meat-eater, but if Iriador was, well that was going to make things interesting. He had no problem hunting for Iriador if necessary, and, when he thought about it, the boy’s form as well as the horse form both needed building up. In some respects it would make it much easier to prepare a meal, if they both ate the same thing. Broths and stews would soon put some weight on Iriador.


As Legolas prepared the evening meal he told Iriador about Middle Earth’s history. From what the blond archer had seen in the boy’s soul, it was obvious to him that he was not of this world. He continued to tell him tales of the forests and some of the many legends until it was time for Iriador to sleep. To make sure that the boy slept he began to sing of the Lady of the Golden Wood.


Once more he watched in fascination as the boy’s form reappeared just after midnight but was back to the horse form by dawn. An idea began to form in his mind and he determined that tomorrow he would test his theory.


So at breakfast on their second morning together, Legolas casually remarked. “You know Iriador the most important thing I can show you is how to survive. I observed you while you slept last night and it occurred to me that being turned into a horse would not seem like a good thing, yet it does provide you with unique opportunities.


First your new form makes life much simpler for you, as a creature such as yourself only has to worry about eating and sleeping and taking a mate when the time is right. I am not sure whether yours is a solitary kind or whether you hunt in packs. Secondly it is an excellent form for hunting and searching during the night, however it is not so good for during the day. Unless you take refuge in dark thickets or glades, you would definitely stand out upon flat land.”


He continued thoughtfully, “It is a golden rule to live by no matter what you are destined to be or what you currently are, use every thing you have been given, even if at first you think it a curse rather than a gift. With a little thought you can turn an apparent weakness into a strength that will surprise your prey. Believe me, it is something every warrior or diplomat for that matter takes to heart. The trick of course is in knowing when to use it, usually that comes from your own instinct. In the case of your new form you definitely have some fighting attributes such as your hooves, teeth and wings; they can all be used in a fight. As well you have your wings to escape if necessary.”


Legolas sat back and watched as Iriador seemed to take in everything he had said. One thing growing up at court and being a warrior had taught him was patience, for now he just had to hope that he had gotten his point across. As he sat back to wait he was left to contemplate if it would have the desired effect of bringing the boy back even if it was just during the day.