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When Legolas awoke again it was daylight, and he was alone. The
headache still lurked behind his eyes, but had receded to manageable
proportions, and his vision was clearer.
He turned his head a little as the door opened. Arwen stood
there, a slight smile on her face. “How do you feel?”
He looked at her and considered the question carefully. “Better,” he
conceded. “Do you think your father will let me get up?”
“I should think so. I doubt he would be able to stop you,
anyway.” She came into the room and looked at him carefully as he
stood cautiously. She hovered at his side, though Legolas noticed
she did not offer to help, probably knowing he would only refuse – but
she kept close enough to catch him if he fell. He walked slowly to the
window and leant on the sill for support, looking down through the
trees to the river below.
He was acutely aware of her assessing gaze, and was not in the least
surprised at her next comment. “You look terrible,” she told him
bluntly.
“Thank you so much. Do you have a mirror? Let me see.”
She found one, and handed it to him wordlessly. He looked at his
reflection and sighed. He was very pale, and the dark bruise
covering a quarter of his face accentuated the pallor of his
skin. One eye was swollen and half-closed – it was not surprising
that his vision was still a little unfocused. The jagged
cut, nearly four inches long, was surrounded by a scraped, painful
looking graze, only now beginning to scab over. “He calls
that lucky? Oh well, I suppose it will heal. What time is it?” he
changed the subject.
“About midday. I came to see if you were awake and wanted any lunch.”
Legolas frowned, trying to reconcile the hours. They did not seem
to add up. “Midday? It must have been near dawn when we fought
the trolls. Was that only this morning?”
Arwen shook her head. “That was yesterday. You have been - asleep
- since then.”
“I see,” he said, a little horrified that he had been unaware for so
long.
“You woke up for a while last night. Do you remember?”
He thought back. There was a dim memory of Elrond, of Aragorn at the
end of the bed, telling him about the trolls. “I think so. But it seems
a bit - hazy. Your father was there. And Aragorn. And - Elrohir?”
Arwen smiled at him. “Good. You do remember. I shall give you a few
minutes to get dressed, then you can meet us downstairs.” She
gave him a light kiss on the cheek, and left.
A short time later, Legolas joined Arwen, Aragorn and the twins over
the noon meal, although he did not feel particularly hungry. He was
keen to hear full details of what had happened to the other trolls.
“Well, I saw how you killed the first troll, so I tried the same thing.
I thought it would not work at first, but then it went down like a tree
falling!” explained Elrohir enthusiastically. “But then the last troll
realised that we had killed the other two, and seemed to be even more
enraged.”
“Yes, it grabbed him, just as the sun came up,” added Elladan. “It was
turned to stone. El was lucky he got away in time!”
Elrohir shivered. “Yes, that was close!”
“What do you think would have happened if you had still been held by
the troll? If you had not got away?” Legolas asked Elrohir
curiously.
“I have no idea, but I am very glad I did not find out!” Elrohir
said firmly.
“Maybe you’d have been turned to stone as well!” exclaimed Aragorn
ghoulishly.
“Or perhaps you would have had to wait until we could find a handy
dwarf to come along with a chisel to free you,” suggested Arwen.
Legolas shook his head and laughed. “I wish I had seen it! It
sounds like I missed all the fun. But when are you going out
after the other two?”
“There will be another search party tonight,” Elladan
explained. “We plan to go south of the road this time. We have
not been there for a while, but there have been no reports of trolls
anywhere for days. It seems to have gone very quiet. I hope we will be
able to find them soon!”
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Elladan and Elrohir
left on pursuits of their own, Elrohir saying something about visitors
from Lorien. Legolas took the opportunity to replenish his arrows. He
had lost most of his in the Anduin, and wanted – needed – to replace
them. He collected the supplies he needed, then set to work. Aragorn
watched with interest as the arrow heads, with lethally sharp points,
were fitted and bound to the shafts with thin strips of leather. Then
Legolas sorted through a handful of feathers, selecting the ones he
wanted for fletching. “Pass me that knife, please?” he asked
absently.
Aragorn handed him the knife he had been using for the arrow
heads. Legolas glared at him in exasperation. “No, not that
one! The fletching knife, there!” he snapped.
Aragorn changed knives quickly, giving his friend the correct one.
“Sorry.”
Legolas sighed, resting his head against one hand. “No, I am the
one who should be sorry. There was no need for that. I – I feel tired.”
In truth, the detailed work and concentration needed for the tricky
task of fletching the arrows was not helping a persistent headache, and
his vision still blurred disconcertingly at times. He did not
usually feel this bad tempered or out-of-sorts. Quickly he
finished the fletching, then added the final detail, a tiny golden
oakleaf symbol, etched on the arrows near the fletching. He stowed the
completed arrows in the quiver, and returned with it to his room as
Aragorn left to get ready for the night’s search.
Towards the end of the afternoon, the hunting party assembled once
again in the courtyard. As Legolas arrived he saw Aragorn talking to
Elladan and Elrohir while they waited by the horses.
“There are only two of them left, and if they stay together we could
search from now until Yule until we find them,” Elrohir complained. “I
do not particularly want to be spending every night out after them.
There is a girl from Lorien, a healer, who has just arrived. I want
...” he broke off, looking over Aragorn’s shoulder at the steps from
the house. “Oh. I wondered when you would appear.”
Aragorn and Elladan turned to look. Legolas returned their gaze
calmly. Elladan gave a snort of disgust. “You must be mad if you
think you are well enough to come tonight. I am surprised father has
not stopped you.”
Legolas stood rather defensively on the steps, his bow slung over his
shoulder, a quiver full of newly-fletched arrows on his back. Elrond
appeared behind him, looking resigned.
Aragorn, Elladan and Elrohir converged on him. All three started on him
at once, and Legolas quickly became defensive. “I feel fine, there is
nothing wrong with me. I just want to get on with this. Will you all
stop fussing!” His voice rose
to a near shout.
Aragorn watched the argument wryly. Legolas’s stubbornness had collided
head-on with the twins’ steely determination. It would be interesting
to see who won. After five minutes of fruitless ‘discussion’ when none
of them had yielded an inch, Aragorn decided to call a halt using more
subtle methods. Moving around behind Legolas, he caught Elrohir’s eye.
When there was a lull in the furious flow of words, he spoke sharply
behind his friend. “Legolas!”
Legolas turned quickly - too quickly. He went pale, and swayed as a
wave of dizziness hit him. He glared at Aragorn, who was regarding him
with what could only be described as a smirk. “Still think you’re well
enough to come?” the ranger asked sardonically.
“That was a low trick!” snapped Legolas.
“But necessary,” said Elrond, firmly. “I trust there will be no further
discussion?” He stared at Legolas with an expression eerily
reminiscent of Thranduil at his most implacable.
Legolas knew when he was beaten, but still glowered at all four. “All
right. I shall stay here - tonight.” Without another word, he turned
and went back into the house.
Aragorn realized that Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir were looking at him
in admiration. “That was nicely done, Estel. Much simpler than a long
drawn-out argument,” praised Elrond.
“But you could have just put your foot down,” Elladan told his father.
“Yes, I could,” Elrond agreed, “but he would have resented
it, and me. Besides, I have no authority to forbid him to do anything.
This way, he can decide for himself.”
~*~*~*~*~
Legolas watched from the windows in Elrond’s library. If he could not
participate in the hunt, he could at least search for references to
other troll attacks. He turned as Arwen came to join him in his
research.
“You wish you were with them,” she said sympathetically.
Legolas simply nodded.
“I know how you feel. Sometimes Aragorn thinks he should look after me,
that I need protecting.”
Legolas looked at her in disbelief. He could hardly imagine any woman
less in need of protection than Arwen, with the possible exception of
one of his warriors from Lasgalen, Taniquel. He remembered Arwen’s
fearless companionship when he had once been injured, the deadly
accuracy of her arrows when he had taken her on a spider hunt through
Lasgalen. “What do you tell him?”
“Most times I point out his error. But sometimes - sometimes I let him.
He has a tendency to take responsibility for things he cannot really
control. He cannot help it - it comes of being a ranger.”
Legolas considered her words. It certainly shed a new light on Aragorn
- he had not suspected this trait in his friend. And the thought of
Arwen in need of protection was still mind-boggling. He could easily
imagine her ‘pointing out’ Aragorn’s error. It was very revealing that
she did not do so every time.
“You love him,” he stated flatly.
Arwen nodded, almost sadly. “Yes. And I will have to make the same
choice as Luthien in time. But it is no choice at all, really.” She
shook off her melancholic mood and changed the subject. “Anyway, what
about you?”
Legolas smiled suddenly. “Ashia is due to return from Lorien some time
next year. Then she will start training our healers in the techniques
she learnt there. I had a letter from her a few months ago. She says
she has learnt more from your Grandmother than she ever believed
possible!”
“I met Ashia when I was in Lórien. I like her. And I
think she is just right for you!” She leaned forward and embraced
him. “I am glad for you.”
“So am I for you, Arwen. Aragorn is a fine man. Be happy.”
~*~*~*~*~
Early the next morning, the hunting party trailed back to Imladris,
cold, wet, and miserable. It had rained all night, and once more, there
had been no sign of the trolls anywhere.
Thereafter, patrols continued every night, with no more success. Elrond
varied the hunters out searching so that none became too exhausted or
despondent, and between them they covered every inch of ground
surrounding Imladris, but found no sign of the remaining trolls. There
were no new caves found where they might lie hidden, and no new traces
in the caves they had already searched. However, they all took comfort
in the fact that at least there had been no new attacks reported.
Four nights after the fight with the three trolls at the Trollshaws, a
large party, this time including Legolas, rode out from Rivendell.
There had been a message that travellers were again braving the road
between Bree and the mountains, and Elrond was taking no chances.
Elladan and Elrohir were planning to conduct a further search of the
many caves in the area, including the one Aragorn and Legolas had
found. They were discussing tactics when Elrond spoke behind them.
“Legolas. I would speak with you, if I may.” Legolas slowed
Pavisel until Elrond caught up with him, and they rode alongside one
another. “You warned me when you arrived of the renewed evil that
dwells in Dol Guldur. But you have not told me all that occurred there.
I sense a shadow on you. What else happened?”
Legolas hesitated, looking down at Pavisel’s mane. “The mission - was
not a success. Of the six who rode out, three did not return.” He
paused, chosing his words with care. “We were returning from Dol
Guldur when we were ambushed - I should have sensed it! One of the warriors,
Math’rin, was killed instantly. We fought the orcs, and eventually
defeated them, but Elthan had taken a grievous wound. He died before we
could help him.”
“I remember Math’rin when we fought together at the Last Alliance” said
Elrond sadly. “He was a valiant warrior. He used to play for us, and
could charm the birds from the trees with his harping! And Elthan, he
came here many, many years ago to learn from our healers. I grieve for
your losses.” He paused, waiting for Legolas to continue, then
asked, “What happened to the third of your companions?”
Legolas hesitated for a long time, his voice distant as he was forced
to confront Eléntia’s death again. He continued slowly: “One of
my warriors, Eléntia, was taken by orcs. We followed them, but
they reached Dol Guldur. The Nazgûl were there. They are - truly
evil.” Legolas’s voice dropped to a bare whisper. Then he continued:
“One described in great detail what they would do to her, wanting us to
take that message back to Lasgalen, so no others would approach the
tower.” He stopped again, seeing in his memories the tower,
Eléntia chained against it, the towering figure of the
Nazgûl, the chill of fear they had felt as it turned to them, and
hearing once more its cold voice.
Elrond watched him closely, saying nothing. He could guess what had
happened then, and the terrible burden which Legolas carried.
Eventually Legolas continued. “I had no choice. Rescue was impossible,
there were hundreds of orcs and trolls. Once they took her inside the
tower - we could not let that happen, could not abandon her to that
fate.” His voice dropped again, so even Elrond, riding beside him,
could barely hear. “I had no choice.”
“I see. Have you spoken with your father of this?”
Legolas nodded. “Yes. It helped, but I still wish things
could have been different.” He looked at Elrond. “I appreciate
your help. Thank you,” he said simply.
Elrond gave him a sudden smile. “Away with you, elfling. Go and see
what my sons are up to.”
Legolas rode away from the main party, over the hill to the rock
outcrop he had seen with Aragorn. As he drew near the cave, he could
see no sign of the twins or Aragorn. They had clearly gone into the
cave, as their three horses waited patiently outside. He was still
several hundred yards away when through the dusky twilight he saw a
dark shape moving slowly past the rocks towards the cave. He watched in
disbelief for a long second, then called a sharp warning.
“Aragorn! Elladan, Elrohir! Get out of there, the troll is coming back!”
The creature turned at his shout, and regarded him with an idle
curiosity. Then it resumed its path and lumbered towards the cave
entrance. Legolas turned to look for Elrond, or anyone, but there was
no one else in sight. He slid off Pavisel. “Go and find Elrond, now.
Bring him here!” Then he turned and raced towards the cave. The troll
had already reached the entrance and gone in. For a long moment,
nothing happened, then he heard a wild shout, a furious bellow, and a
startled cry from one of the twins.
As Legolas reached the cleft there was another roar from the troll, a
crash, then the thunderous roar of collapsing rock. A shockwave of dust
and fetid air blasted out of the cave mouth, and he reeled back,
coughing. Then there was a groaning, creaking sound, another rumble,
and a further cloud of dust. Gradually silence fell, and the cloud
dispersed.
The cave had collapsed, and the entrance was completely blocked.
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