Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Last Wood Elf	By : Mel99Moe Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 4551 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters or places. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter 10 - Rohan

It was a long journey for Folvar, Hafdan, Kular and Legolas, but one of necessity. Grimbeorn ordered a few of his most trusted men to go with them, but at a distance. Only a few times during the journey did they make their presence known, when orcs were spotted near the men’s camp. Legolas did not see them, but he heard their bear growls late into the night, as they kept a watchful vigil over them. The other Beornings and Woodsmen went on to join the Noldorin elves on their way to Dol Guldur. Folvar and his men would meet up with them after taking Legolas to Rohan. Then, if they were successful, they would return to their families and go back to their village in the woods.

They had stayed to the east of the Anduin River for most of their travels. Now, they were coming close to the borders of Lothlórien, where they would cross by ferry just to the south of the elvish realm. As the travelers passed the Golden Woods, Legolas caught a glimpse of a group of elves across the river, standing guard at their docks. His heart raced upon seeing others of his own kind. They were extremely tall, and seemed to illuminate the place where they stood upon the shore.

“The Noldor,” Legolas muttered to himself. A part of him wished to brave the rushing current of the great river and join them on the other side, but Elhadron’s scornful words against the Lorien elves rang though his head. ‘They only long to get back to their secret land across the sea. To them, Middle-earth is a punishment that they must endure until they hear the call to come home.’ Legolas kept these thoughts to himself. How could they see Middle-earth this way? Legolas loved this land. He wanted to see it grow and prosper. He wanted to see evil demolished, and he wanted to be a part of that. This was not a punishment, but an opportunity to experience something great. He quickly buried his feelings of wanting to be with other elves, and focused on the road ahead. Still, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, just to see them one more time, but they had already vanished from the docks.

* * *

Near the end of their journey, they came close to a forest unlike any Legolas had ever seen. It was very dark and mysterious, and he could feel the men shudder as they gazed upon it. The landscape of flat plain ended abruptly at a wall of close growing trees. He wondered what it was about the place that seemed to have the men on edge.

“What lies in there?” Legolas asked.

“That is Fangorn Forest. It is full of many perils, but not from anything that you might know,” Kular said in a hushed voice, “Inside there, the very trees come alive. They are said to hate anyone who passes beneath their boughs, and will attack without a thought. No one that has entered there has ever come out … a dangerous place that should be avoided.”

Legolas listened to Kular’s accounts of Fangorn, but he did not sense this himself. He narrowed his eyes and peered into the forest as far as his vision would allow. A strange low rumble emanated from beyond the shadows, almost as if the trees called out to him. Without warning, he jumped down from Folvar’s horse, “Elhadron told me stories of Fangorn. There were shepherds said to be older than the elves who used to walk amongst forests filled with their own kind. The elves did not fear them though. They befriended the trees and taught them to speak.” As he talked, he began walking towards the tree line, “I sense no fear either. Actually, I’d very much like to see one of the Onodrim.”

Folvar pulled on the horse’s reins, and came in front of Legolas to stop him from going any further, “Aye, Legolas, I will not allow you to go in there.” His voice was very stern and tinged with fright for the young elf, as well as for himself.

Legolas stopped but remained focused on the forest as he tried to steal glanced around Folvar’s horse, “Do you not feel something coming from within? It is not hatred … curiosity maybe.”

Kular nudged the sides of his horse and went to Legolas. “It could be a trick, young one,” the man said as his flesh broke out into goose bumps, “It’s best if ye pay no mind to that place, aye. I can promise that if ye go in there, we will not follow.”

“Kular!” Hafdan scolded.

Kular gave his older brother a serious look. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? The boy should know of the dangers that lie within. We go in there,” he pointed, “and we don’t come out again.”

Legolas was surprised by his humorless expression. Kular had never sounded so severe. Not wanting to upset the men any more, Legolas turned back to the horses, “I will not go,” he assured them, “but I will not forget this place. Something draws me to it.” He went back to Folvar and leapt up onto the horse, situating himself behind the man, but he looked back and regarded the trees once more. He thought he saw movement, as if the trees leaned towards his direction, and the low rumble slowly faded to silence.

* * *

The riders crossed the River Snowbourn, traveling along a stony road. Ahead was Edoras, capitol city of Rohan and home of King Théoden. Almost to the city’s gate, the path led them between two rows of barrows, nine to the west and seven to the east. Each mound was covered in white blossoming vines. The men slowed their horses and passed in silence.

“These are the graves of past kings,” Folvar informed Legolas once they were through the barrows, “To the right are the kings of the first line and to the left are the kings of the second. Thengel was the last to be placed with his forefathers. Now, King Théoden rules this land. He has a son a few years your senior. I’m sure he can teach you much about Rohan and their customs.”

Legolas remained silent, but looked off towards the great wall that surrounded the city. It was very tall and made of wood. The elf wondered how it was not easily breached until he noticed the thorns at the top. Should someone climb the wall, the large spikes would stop their advancement.

They approached the gate, and Folvar jumped down from his horse, walking to the gate guards. Hafdan and Kular stayed back with Legolas and waited. After speaking with the guards, Folvar came back and climbed onto his horse once again. “We have permission to enter,” he said to the others, and they went through the gate.

The pathway inside was paved and much more even than the one leading up to the great wooden wall. The land here sloped up, and the path wound its way along a small stream. There were many houses dotted around the area, wooden homes with thatched roofs that reminded Legolas of the huts in the Woodsmen village. People came out of their houses to see who the new visitors were. Legolas felt slightly self-conscious and pulled his cloak around him.

At the crown of the hill sat a great thatched house. This was Meduseld, the Golden Hall. It sat on a platform high up in the center of Edoras. At the base of the platform, green grass grew and sloped down and away from the house. Legolas thought it seemed rather inviting at first. As the sun shone down, the golden roof shined in the light, like a beacon calling its people home. On a day like this, it could be seen from miles away.

The path narrowed and the riders left their horses with handlers who would take them to the lesser stables, while the men met with the king. They reached the end of the pathway and approached a set of broad stairs that led to a wide breezeway running along the length of the front of the house. Benches dotted the area, perhaps as a meeting place for the residents or the king himself.

The three men and Legolas climbed the stairs side by side, meeting another set of guards at the top. Legolas studied their uniforms. The chest plate was designed with small overlapping metal disks reminding him of fish scales. Thick leather pads covered their shoulders. A simple metal helm covered their heads with plates covering their ears and another covering the nose, which was shaped like a horse’s head. Each guard had a sword sheathed at his side and held a long spear in his hand. They stood still as pillars, watching every move the visitors made. Folvar announced their arrival. The guards then pushed on two massive wooden doors, each decorated with a mighty horse rearing up on its hind legs. Folvar turned to his companions, and with a nod, they all proceeded through the doors.

The hall was long, wide and richly decorated with the heritage of the Rohirrim. Upon the walls, hung faded tapestries depicting the kings of old. Between the tapestries, were windows stretching midway up the wall and ending close to the vaulted wood beam ceiling. Today the windows were open, allowing a cool breeze to flow through.

Along the length of the long hall, great wooden pillars, painted with red and gold designs, lined both sides from front to back. They were decorated with carvings of beasts and men, telling a story that was no doubt common knowledge to the residents. At the top of each pillar was a giant horse head leaning out over the hall below, watching all who entered under their roof.

In the center of the hall was a large hearth very much like the fire pit within the Beornings’ house. Above at the very center of the ceiling and above the hearth was a set of louvers from which the smoke could escape. Next to the pit, sat a comfortable looking couch where Legolas imagined the king or his family would sit and enjoy a private relaxing moment.

Between the walls and the pillars sat heavy long wooden tables with a bench on each side. It was obvious that the hall was used for many different purposes, dining as well as receptions and important ceremonies. The hall was enormous and Legolas was in awe.

The men and the elf walked forward until they came to the south end where there was a dais and upon it the king’s throne. Legolas examined it carefully. It seemed simple compared to what he thought it might look like.

He had a sudden memory of the throne room in Mirkwood. Sometimes, his father spent time with him there. The memories hadn’t surfaced in a very long time, but he remembered seeing a simply made wooden chair. Legolas had asked his father why the king did not have a large luxurious throne decorated with gold and precious gems. He told him that it was not the throne that made the king important, but rather the man himself, and the respect he earned from his people. Some kings decorated their thrones quite extravagantly, and showed off their wealth, but they were usually weak men.

Legolas wasn’t sure what he had expected to see now, perhaps a golden chair with plush cushions sitting upon a high alter. What he found was a simple wooden high back chair with detailed carvings. The arms of the chair were carved in the shape of two horses standing at attention, heads bowed. Beneath the throne lay a deerskin rug, and to the side, sat a small wooden table. Upon the back of the chair were carved circles within each other, and Legolas was reminded of the round maze of white stone pathways in the Beornings’ garden. All lines led to the center, very much like Edoras, with its circular protective wall, and the Golden Hall at the city’s center. And within that hall was the king with his simple throne. Legolas smiled to himself. Théoden must be a good king then.

The wall behind the throne was the most extravagant place in the hall, with its carved pillars and arches … curved designs that seemed to have no beginning and no end, etched into the wall. Three brightly colored flags, red, blue and black, hung neatly in a row. Each one depicted a white horse and a golden sun, made of velvet, very detailed and rich looking.

Legolas stood close to Kular, carefully hidden beneath his long hood and cloak, and watched as a door to the right of the dais slowly opened. Out walked King Théoden dressed in red robes embroidered with gold down the front, on the sleeves and high collar. He looked older than his years, not what Legolas expected, especially after having known the younger men of the Woodsmen tribe. The elf became worried at the sight of the King’s creased brow and stern features. Surely, he was very set in his ways. What could he offer someone like Legolas, an elf and an orphan?

Folvar bowed respectfully as Théoden took a seat on his throne. The King’s shoulder length hair was streaked with grey and sun-bleached gold, and it fell into his face as he sat. He pushed it behind his ear and looked upon Folvar with a kind smile and dancing blue eyes. Legolas started to relax a bit.

“Folvar, it has been many long years since we have held counsel. What brings you to Rohan?” Théoden asked.

“I have quite a tale to tell you, and if you have the time, I would like to share it with you now. Perhaps by the end you can help me fulfill my mission, and my reason for this visit.”

Théoden looked Folvar over curiously, then glanced to the other two men, and what he thought was a young boy, hooded and cloaked, “You bring a youth with you, I see. Whose son might this be?”

“I am his foster father. He has no parents. Please sire, if I might explain?” Folvar went on.

“Very well,” Théoden answered, “Your men and the boy can have a seat while we talk. I’ll send for food and drink. I’m sure it was a long journey from your village.” He signaled to someone in the shadows.

Hafdan and Kular bowed, and led Legolas to the north end of the hall, near the door where they had entered. They sat at one of the long tables, allowing Folvar time to discuss their situation without listening in on the conversation. A young maiden came out from a side door, carrying a plate of bread and dried meat in one hand, and three mugs of ale in the other. She sat the tray carefully in the center of the table, and then proceeded to place a mug in front of each person. The men nodded and smiled, but Legolas looked curiously at the glass. He picked it up and sniffed it, recognizing the scent of barley and yeast. He brought it to his lips, when suddenly it was yanked out of his hands. He looked up to see Hafdan giving him a stern look. Then to the maiden he said, “Perhaps something less potent for the boy.”

The maiden apologized for the mistake. She hadn’t known he was a youth for he was hidden beneath his hood. He was rather tall though, and she thought he was older. Legolas tilted his head up to take a better look at the maiden. His crystal blue eyes met hers and she gasped slightly, caught off guard by their radiance, “I am sorry. I did not know,” she apologized, taking the mug, leaving them at once.

“He’s got to start some time,” Kular joked, leaning into his older brother’s shoulder.

Hafdan gave him a humorless look, “Not on my watch and not with this warg piss. This is for the older men, aye.” He turned to Legolas with concern, “When time comes, and soon it will living with the Rohirrim, wait for the honey mead. If you’re gonna start drinking, at least let it be worth your while.”

Legolas was not quite sure what Hafdan was talking about, but he nodded in agreement, folded his hands, and placed them in his lap.

Hafdan, Kular and Legolas sat silently and waited. They could not hear what Folvar or Théoden were saying. Only whispers and unenthusiastic moans came from the dais. Legolas’ acute hearing detected most of the conversation though.

“So you see why I came to you in this matter,” Folvar said, finishing his story.

Théoden wrinkled his brow, already deeply creased from years of riding under the strong prairie sun, “And so you are asking me to take an elf in under my roof? Folvar, I do not think I can do this. Already my house is full, as I have had to take in my sister’s children after her and her husband’s untimely deaths. And I have my own son to raise with no wife by my side. The last year has been a challenge for me. I cannot see how I could take another youth under my wing, and an elf no less.”

“I wish you would reconsider. I know Legolas is different, but he is a quick learner, and his fighting skills surpass that of any of our trainees. He is an elf, Théoden. He could be quite a hefty asset to your military.”

Théoden looked down the long hall to the two men and Legolas sitting at one of the tables, “I hadn’t considered that.” The King thought a moment about this strategy, but shook his head, “It does not seem right to think of him as a weapon. He is just boy of what … ten?”

“He is eleven now, but much older than that mentally, maturing at a quicker rate than humans. He has also been through much already in his young life. He has seen more death than some of my oldest villagers. He is the last wood elf, the last of his Mirkwood kinsfolk. I have already told you my reasons for not taking him to Lothlorien or Rivendell. Now that you know his story, I know you would abide by his family’s wishes also. Please, King Théoden, I cannot keep him with me for fear of his safety, and there is no one else I trust with his well-being more than my own cousins to the south. I think Rohan is the perfect opportunity Legolas needs to further his skills. He is a decent boy, smart, courteous and brave,” Folvar pleaded.

“They are taking an awfully long time, don’t you think?” Kular whispered to his brother.

“Well, you don’t expect the King of Rohan not to have questions do ye?” Hafdan answered.

Just as they finished speaking, they saw Folvar and Théoden stand and walk towards them. The brothers immediately got to their feet. Kular reached down and pulled Legolas to his. The elf buried himself in his cloak.

Théoden stopped in front of Legolas, who was completely wrapped up in his garments and looking at the ground, wishing he could disappear altogether, “Let me have a look at you, boy.” Théoden’s voice was soft and even toned. Legolas slowly looked up, “You can remove your hood. It’s alright, I don’t bite,” the King jested with a slight smile. Legolas reached up and pushed the hood from his head, and Théoden observed him more closely, “Folvar has told me your story, Legolas, and I am very sorry to hear all that you have had to contend with. Sometimes these hardships can shape us, make us better people.” He paused and waited to see if Legolas had anything to say, but the youth seemed paralyzed and mute, afraid to speak out of turn, “If I take you into my house, you will have to work hard. Just because you are living under my roof doesn’t mean you will have an easy time of it. Everyone contributes in Edoras and yes, even my son the prince has work duties to attend to. Participation is key in Rohan.”

“I understand, Sir,” Legolas finally managed to squeak out.

The moment seemed tense as Théoden regarded Legolas, and the elf looked the king in the eye. Finally, the Rohirrim ruler broke a smile across his lips, and offered Legolas a hand. The youth took it and they shook. “Welcome to Rohan, and welcome to your new home,” Théoden said.

* * *

Théoden requested that Folvar, Hafdan and Kular stay in Rohan for a while, or at least until they must join with the rest of their men in the seizing of Dol Guldur. The Woodsmen agreed and guest rooms were set up for them. The King also wanted to discuss the matter of the attack, and learn more about the burning of Mirkwood. He had, of course, heard of the destruction, but the Woodsmen knew more than what he had heard from passing travelers.

With the talk turning to war strategies and other dark discussions of death, the men agreed that it was time to let Legolas meet the King’s son and his nephew. Théoden called for a servant, the girl who waited on them earlier, to lead Legolas to the stables where the boys worked. The maiden came at the King’s calling, curtsied, and then took Legolas by the hand, leading him from the Golden Hall. Once they were through the front doors and onto the breezeway, she stopped and looked him over carefully.

She was older than Legolas, but not yet an adult. She was slight of frame with round green eyes and long honey blond hair. She was also very outgoing and talkative, Legolas noticed, as she hardly waited until they were out of the hall before she started her inquest.

“You are an elf, aren’t you? I have never met one of your kind before. The people of Rohan have heard many stories of the Eldar, but rarely have we been visited by any. Some of the older folk say you possess magic, but I never believed any of that.” She absentmindedly reached out as if to touch his pointed ear.

Legolas backed away from her reach and returned the hood to his head. He wasn’t sure about this maiden, and she was making him a bit uncomfortable with her quick speech. She must have sensed it, because she pulled her hand back immediately, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.” She smiled, as if to change the subject quickly, “My name is Brynhild.”

Legolas gave a fraudulent smile, “It’s alright. You caught me by surprise. I’m Legolas.”

She blushed slightly, but ignoring the difficult moment, pulled up her long skirt and approached the stairs, “Come on, I’ll take you to the stables.” She descended with Legolas following behind.

As they walked along the path, Brynhild pointed out a few other places along the way, the armory, the training grounds and the mead hall. She made casual conversation, and held back from asking him questions. It was difficult. She was very curious about Legolas. As they got closer to the stables, she decided she couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

“I overheard King Théoden and your … your—”

“He is my foster father,” Legolas finished for her.

She smiled shyly, “I apologize. I was not sure how you referred to him. I know he is not your real father. If he was, he would be an elf, but clearly he is human.” She was rambling again.

“Folvar is like a father to me. He has helped me and taught me much.” Legolas looked to the ground as they walked along a stone pathway, “I wish I could stay with him,” he said softly.

“Why can’t you?” she asked innocently in a hushed voice, as if she was almost afraid to inquire, but the words slipped out.

Why indeed, Legolas thought to himself. The answer would take too long to explain and Brynhild may have more questions that he wasn’t ready to answer, “I have to … that’s all.” To his satisfaction, she asked no more about it.

It didn’t take them long, and they were finally at the Rohirric stables. “This is where the army’s horses are kept, and the foals are birthed. To the east, on the opposite side of Meduseld, are the Royal stables where King Théoden’s horse, and those belonging to his family and members of the court are housed. We take great pride in our horses. They are like our family, and as you can see, they live just as comfortably as we do.”

Legolas looked up at the large stable building. It looked very much like Meduseld with a thatched roof and well-made wooden walls. Brynhild pushed the doors open and they walked into a lavish stable, very clean and smelling of fresh hay. Massive pillars lined both sides of the wide stable, all decorated with the same knotted designs like the ones in the hall. Between each set of pillars were stalls where the horses stayed when they were not being ridden. Huge beams elegantly carved with the Rohirrim design lined the ceiling, each with an etching of a horse, its head gazing down at the stable floor. The smell of leather and strong oils filled the air and grooms rushed here and there carrying buckets or shovels.

Brynhild stood with Legolas by her side for a moment as she looked around. Finally, she saw who she was looking for. “There is Théodred. Come, I will introduce you as the King asked.”

Théodred was tall and lean with bronze hair not yet bleached by the sun, just touching the top of his shoulders and with a natural waviness to it. He was older than Legolas by four years, a fifteen year old boy on the verge of becoming a young man. Legolas could see his father’s features in his round face, a strong jaw, the same blue eyes and a tall forehead. Théodred was brushing down one of the horses, a very large brown beast with enormous white feet, a workhorse no doubt. The animal bobbed its head up and down, enjoying the attention the young man was giving him. Théodred spoke to the horse, smiling as he ran the brush over its muscled neck, its main fixed with many braids.

Brynhild watched Théodred for a moment before she spoke, blushing slightly as she observed the King’s handsome son. He looked up from his work and smiled wide, “Brynhild, what brings you here? Wait, let me guess, my father has come up with another chore to add to my list,” he rolled his eyes.

“The King has asked me to bring you a guest to entertain,” Brynhild said shyly .

Théodred stopped brushing the horse and turned to look at her. Then he saw someone standing behind her wearing a cloak. The prince narrowed his eyes then he nodded his head and gestured towards the stranger, “Who is that?”

“This is your guest.” She stepped to the side and nudged Legolas forward. An innocent smile formed on her lips. “You’ve done a fine job with that horse, Théodred. I’ve not seen him look more agreeable.”

Théodred stopped what he was doing, and his eyes fell upon Brynhild, mischief dancing within their blue depths, “I always make sure that those in my custody are well cared for and left thoroughly content.”

Brynhild gave a sigh and blushed a few shades deeper. She clasped her hands together at her mid-section and fidgeted, seeming to forget her errand.

Legolas could see that this shameless flirting could go on for some time, and cleared his throat, breaking the spell.

Brynhild shuffled her feet and resumed her duty, “Oh yes, Théodred, this is Legolas. Perhaps when you are done here, you can take him around the city. The King is speaking with his caretakers and asked me to bring him to meet you.” She touched Legolas’ shoulder, “I must be on my way now, but it was very nice meeting you.” She gave Théodred one last glance and turned to leave the stable.

Legolas watched her leave and slowly turned back to face Théodred, who was giving him a peculiar look. “Legolas is it?” the prince asked, but all he received in answer was a nod. He stepped away from the large workhorse and approached his new guest, “Where do you hail from, Legolas?”

The elf hesitated before answering. Where should he say he was from, the Woodsmen’s village, the Beornings, or his original home? He decided on a combination, “I am from Mirkwood, but I lived with the Woodsmen in northern Rhovanion for the past several years, after orcs raided and destroyed my home.”

Théodred knitted his brows, and regarded Legolas curiously. He would like to know more of the story, but it seemed Legolas was being very careful with his information. “Mirkwood, aye? Then you are an elf?” he asked.

Legolas reached up and lowered his hood, exposing his long flaxen hair, bright blue eyes and pointed ears. His face was set in stone, showing no emotions as he regarded the King’s son. Just then, another boy ran up to Théodred. This one had honey blond hair, not quite to his shoulders. He looked younger than the prince, a gangly looking boy. He took no notice of the stranger at first.

“Hey Théo, I just heard that some of the girls are—”

Théodred cut him off mid-sentence, “Not now Eomer. Seems we have a guest amongst us.” He gestured to Legolas.

Eomer turned and his eyes widened immediately, “He’s an elf. What is an elf doing in Rohan? Does your father know?” Eomer spoke as though Legolas was not in the same room.

“We haven’t gotten that far yet. So tell us, Legolas, why are you here anyways?” Théodred continued the questioning, and Eomer took his place by his cousin’s side. The interrogation had begun.

“I’m still wondering the same thing,” he responded quickly. Legolas had done this before with the Ladnir and the other boys from the village. He was used to the questions. He was used to having to prove himself to them. Humans were all the same it seemed. They were not too keen on letting just anyone into their tight-knit groups. Of course, Ladnir had not been the son of a king either. Still, Legolas would not show any hesitation. “It seems that my foster family cannot keep me with them anymore, so they have brought me here,” Legolas answered.

Eomer straightened his back and crossed his arms as he glared at the elf. “Foster family? So what’d ya do, get in trouble or something?”

Before he could answer, Théodred spoke again. “He’s a wood elf … from Mirkwood.”

Eomer took a step backwards. “A wood elf? And your father has agreed to let him live here?” he said with shock.

Legolas glared at Eomer, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Eomer shrugged his shoulders, “Well, you know, wood elves are said to be unpredictable and dangerous. We dare not step into their treacherous woods for fear of never returning,” Eomer answered.

“I am not dangerous, unless you cross me.” Legolas was taken aback by Eomer’s depiction of wood elves. He had never heard anyone say they were dangerous and wondered what else the Rohirrim thought they knew about Mirkwood elves.

“Maybe a whole army of wood elves are hazardous, but I doubt just one can do any real harm,” Théodred said as he leaned towards Eomer.

“I don’t know, cousin. He’s got a strange look in his eyes,” Eomer said, “Why would he be with the Woodsmen and not his own kind anyways? Maybe he’s got the magic.” Eomer was once again speaking as though Legolas were invisible.

“If he had the magic,” Théodred justified, “then don’t you think he would have done something before now? He said his home was destroyed, and that’s why he’s with the Woodsmen.”

“You know, I heard something about Mirkwood being attacked. Do you think he lost his family then? Maybe that’s why he’s with them.”

As the boys rudely discussed Legolas in front of him, a small group of stable mates gathered around, observing the elf. He looked behind him, glancing over each shoulder, and then brought his attention back to Théodred and Eomer. “Listen, I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here, but it seems I have no choice. If you want to know … yes, my home and my family were taken from me. Yes, the Woodsmen took me in and gave me a home, but they feel I am in danger if I stay with them, so they’ve brought me to Rohan. And no, I have no magic that you speak of, though if I did, I certainly would have used it on both of you. Listen, I don’t want to make trouble, and I don’t want any from you.” Legolas turned from Théodred and Eomer, storming out of the stables. He had heard enough and didn’t care for their treatment of outsiders.

Théodred punched Eomer in the arm. “What did you go and chase him off for?”

“I was just stating the obvious,” Eomer argued, “You’re the one interrogating him like a criminal,” Eomer rubbed his arm.

The group of stable hands broke apart as they all went back to their duties. Théodred picked up his brush and started working on the horse’s side while Eomer stood by, “I say we test him,” Théodred said, “see what he’s willing to do around here. You know, it could be a unique opportunity, having an elf on our side. They’re said to be stealthy. We could use someone like that. Then maybe we wouldn’t get caught so often. I say we recruit him. There’s something about him that I think he’d make a good addition to our group.”

“He seemed kind of perturbed. He may not want anything more to do with us,” Eomer pointed out.

“Then we’ll just start over new. It’s worth a try. Who else is he going to waste time with?

* * *

Legolas went back to the King’s hall, but the men were still in deep discussions, so he walked around a bit. He wondered where he would be staying and wished he had a place where he could go now. He hadn’t expected the king’s son to behave as he did, and who was this Eomer person to judge him? “Strange look indeed. Let him insult me again, and he’ll find out just how dangerous I can be,” he muttered to himself as he turned a corner and found a hallway at the back of the great hall. He was deep in thought and wasn’t watching where he was going when a girl came bounding out of a room. She ran right into the elf, nearly knocking him down. She gasped and dropped a book she was carrying, papers scattering across the floor. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you,” she apologized as she bent down to pick up her papers.

“It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. Here, let me help you.” Legolas bent down next to her and started picking up papers, noticing the drawings on some of them. One was a picture of a woman with a sword raised above her head. Blood dripped from the weapon and she was smiling. Beneath her was a decapitated orc laying in a pool of blood. He studied it a moment and realized the girl in the drawing was the same as the girl next to him, “Did you draw this?”

She looked at the parchment he held in his hand and gasped, “You weren’t supposed to see that.” She snatched the picture from his hand, “These are private pictures and no one is allowed to—” She stopped as her eyes fell upon him. He was very cute, she thought to herself, with his blue-eyed stare, pouting lips, square jaw and— “Oh,” she said surprised, “You must be the elf all the kitchen help has been talking about.”

Legolas was relieved that she didn’t run away screaming or try to pull on his pointed ears, “My name is Legolas.” He stood up and offered her his hand, helping her to her feet.

She smiled sweetly, “I’m Éowyn, the King’s niece. I live here along with my brother, Eomer.”

Legolas’ brow creased, “We have met, and the King’s son too.”

“Oh my, that does not sound very encouraging. Were they rude to you, because if so I can speak to my uncle and—”

“It’s nothing I cannot handle,” he interrupted, “So why aren’t you shocked as they were … that I am an elf? It seems to be the normal reaction around here.”

“Most of us have never seen an elf. I guess everyone reacts differently. I might have also, but I was in the kitchen when Brynhild, the serving maid, told us about you, and she . . . well, let’s just say she did not make you sound dangerous at all,” Eowyn blushed as she spoke.

Legolas and Eowyn talked more while they slowly strolled down the hallway. He learned that Eomer was thirteen, only a couple years older than he was, and Eowyn was eleven, the same age as Legolas. Brother and sister had both come to Edoras a year ago when their home in the Westfold was attacked by Wildmen and their parents were killed. Their mother was King Théoden’s sister, and he felt it was his responsibility to bring them into his home and raise them.

“Do not worry about Théodred and Eomer. Since we came to live here, those two have bonded like brothers. They are inseparable to say the least, and lately they have found new ways to get into trouble together. If I were you, I’d keep a watchful eye on them and not let them talk you into any of their foolishness,” Eowyn warned.

Legolas smiled warmly, “Thanks for the advice.”

They turned the corner in the hall and saw a couple servants dashing in and out of one of the small rooms. These were usually saved for important guests. Legolas noticed that one of them carried a stack of towels.

“This must be where you’re going to live now, Legolas,” Eowyn informed him, “They are just fixing it up.”

“Where do you stay?” he asked.

“My room is down the hall that we just came from. So is Eomer’s . Théodred’s room is on the other side of the great hall, next to my uncle’s quarters.” As she was speaking, her cousin and brother came around the corner and approached them. Eowyn put her book to her chest and crossed her arms over it, glaring at the two boys.

“What have you got there?” Eomer asked, pointing at her book, “Drawing pictures of you slaying dragons again?” he teased.

“No,” she spat, “and it’s none of your business anyways.” Eomer reached out to touch the book, but she slapped his hand.

“We were just looking for Legolas,” Théodred said, ignoring the bantering between brother and sister, “It seems we got off to a bad start and just wanted to apologize.”

“No harm done,” Legolas said.

“Well, I’m going,” Eowyn announced. As she passed Eomer, she stopped and pointed her finger at him. “Be nice to him. You remember what it was like when we first came to Uncle’s house. Don’t make it difficult on Legolas either.”

With Eowyn gone, the boys could talk more openly with the elf, “So, Legolas, we were wondering if you wanted to come have a little fun with us tonight,” Théodred started, “Think of this as a peace offering. Eomer and I will show you around the city.”

Legolas regarded them suspiciously. They seemed sincere, but he would keep his guard up, “Yea, alright.”

“Good,” Théodred went on, “Meet us by the stables when the moon is at its highest, and we’ll take you to see some of our favorite places.” Eomer let out a laugh and Théodred elbowed him in the ribs. Legolas had a feeling they were up to something, but he would play along.

“I’ll see you then,” the elf said and watched the two boys walk down the hall and turn the corner. Then he went to his new room to see where he would be living now. Already he missed the trees of the Woodsmen village, and the big oak at the Beornings’ house. There was nothing for it though. This was his new home and he would just have to make the best of it.
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Ample gratitude to my beta, Mindirith.
Please review. Thank you for reading.
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The Last Wood Elf