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
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter 11 - Tour of Edoras

Legolas was waiting behind the Rohirric stable just as he was told, and soon Théodred and Eomer approached. The boys patted him on the shoulder and back, “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Théodred stated.

“I said I’d be here, didn’t I?” Legolas countered, “So where are you taking me?”

“As we said, we wanted to show you around the city. First, let’s show you the armory,” Eomer said. They walked to the opposite end of the stable, where they came upon a square building. It was not very tall and only had one door with a thick chain and a rusty padlock.

“It’s locked,” Legolas stated, unenthused with his first introduction to Edoras.

“Eomer,” Théodred said, and his cousin reached into a pocket inside his tunic and took out two small metal rods, only a few inches long. He looked at the lock and smiled.

“They changed it, but I can still get in,” Eomer commented. He inserted the rods into the key hole and started twisting them this way and that, sticking his tongue out as he worked. Théodred stood with his arms crossed and watched the surrounding area.

Legolas was not too pleased, “You’re not supposed to go in there are you?”

“Shush or you’ll draw attention. Just help me look for guards,” Théodred demanded.

The elf did not like this one bit, and was ready to tell them he was leaving when he heard a voice off in the distance. Théodred started to complain that it was taking Eomer too long, but Legolas put a finger to his lips, “Quiet, I hear someone coming.”

Théodred strained his ear, “I don’t hear anyone.”

Legolas knew Théodred could not hear. No man could hear as well as an elf. He peered into the dark and waited until he could see movement across the courtyard near a hall of some sort, “Over there,” he said when the man came into view, “He’s just come out of that building with the window lit up.”

“That’s the mead hall,” Eomer stated.

Théodred looked at Legolas, “You could hear him from all the way over there?”

“Of course,” Legolas answered, “And I can see his face clearly. He has brown hair with grey streaks running through it, an older man, bushy eyebrows, short peppered beard … and he’s not walking very straight.”

Eomer laughed, “Well, if he’s coming from the mead hall, he’s lucky he’s walking at all.”

“And he’s not one of the guards,” Théodred added, “They are refrained from visiting the tavern when they are on duty.” He looked at Eomer, “Hurry and open that lock. Legolas keep watch. I knew you’d come in useful.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Legolas started to complain, but Eomer suddenly chuckled and released the lock from the chain.

“We’re in,” he smiled and pushed the door open.

Immediately inside the door was a set of steps. The building seemed to be buried partly beneath the ground. The three boys rushed inside, down the steps and into the armory. Théodred took out a piece of flint and tossed it to Eomer, who struck his small knife against it and lit a nearby torch. When they had light, Théodred closed the door.

Legolas observed the room. It seemed much bigger from the inside. There were shelves on the wall to his right that held silver helms like the ones he saw on the guards when he first arrived. Some of the shelves had leather boots lined up in pairs or small knives placed in neat rows. Along the opposite wall were hooks and wooden pegs with long chainmail shirts and thick wool cloaks. Further down, round shields hung on the wall in rows from floor to ceiling. Red and black leather chest plates, each accompanied by a pair of thick-layered leather shoulder pads filled the remaining area. The center of the room was lined with wooden racks that held swords, axes and spears. At the very back of the room was a table with a well-worn map spread across it. The edges were curled, and the map was held open with reddish brown rocks. At one end of the map was an inkpot with a feather quill in its holder.

“This is where most of the weapons are stored,” Théodred informed the elf, “The soldiers keep their armor with them. These are the extra ones.”

Legolas went around the room, following the other two boys, and examined the different types of weapons, “Do you not use bows in Rohan?” he asked when he noticed the absence of his favorite weapon.

“Swords and spears are our weapon of choice. They are the best kind to wield when riding on horseback,” Eomer answered, “Personally, I think I would prefer a spear. It can reach farther than a sword and keep the enemy away from my horse.”

“I like double swords myself,” Théodred said, “I have begun training with them.”

Legolas picked up an ax and inspected it, finding it quite sharp and ready for use, “This is the weapon of choice for the Woodsmen, an ax or a bow. They construct their own weapons using the wealth of the forest. I have found that I prefer a bow, the weapon of choice of the elves.”

“And a smart choice for someone with the eye of an eagle,” Théodred added, “There are a few men who use bows in Rohan. Maybe you can train with them.”

“My preference is with a bow, but I would like to learn the skills of all your weapons. You have to be able to use whatever is available during a battle. A bow is only useful with arrows and when they are spent, I have to be able to switch to another form of defense. Long knives would be my second choice. They are light and easy to use in close combat.”

“I’m sure the blacksmith can make something worthy of an elf warrior,” Théodred said. Then he looked back at Eomer, “We are all going to be warriors someday.”

They spent as much time as they thought reasonable in the armory, looking at weapons and uniforms, dreaming of being soldiers in the army. Legolas felt better about Théodred and Eomer. They were not the brats that he first made them out to be. They had goals and meant to see them through, to advance quite far in the ranks of soldiers. Perhaps Théodred had the highest expectancy of anyone, since he was the King’s son and would one day take over his father’s throne. Eomer seemed to like to harass the prince about that, as he was glad the pressure was not upon his own shoulders.

The three youths left the armory, chained and locked the door, and then slipped out unnoticed. Théodred led them towards the town’s paved road, where huts lined both sides of the street.

“Where are we going now?” Legolas inquired.

“Now we’re going to test your tolerance,” answered Théodred, twisting his lip in a mischievous smile.

“Me? Why do you want to test me?”

Eomer went up ahead of the other two and turned around so that he was walking backwards. “We like you, Legolas, and we think you’d fit in well with us, but we don’t know you so well yet. Now, Théodred and I, we like to have some fun, but we don’t like to get caught. We’re not hurting anybody. We just don’t want to sit around and do chores all the time, and believe me, there’s a lot to do around here. So we make our own fun. If you’re up for it and you’re not some tattletale like my sister, then we’d like to have you come along with us. The armory, that was just a warm up. There’s still a lot of Edoras you haven’t seen yet, stuff you won’t find on your own. What do you say, are you up for it or not?”

Legolas looked at Eomer then to Théodred. It was good to have the camaraderie of males, as opposed to females. That was fine too, but boys liked to have daring adventures that only boys could have. He nodded as he regarded the two of them, “Alright then, count me in.”

Théodred threw his arm around Legolas’ shoulder roughly, “Good, I knew you’d agree. I could tell right away that you would fit in with Eomer and me. So tell me, Legolas, have you ever tasted liquor?”

“My uncle allowed me a sip of wine once, with the Woodsmen,” the elf answered honestly.

Eomer and Théodred looked at each other and shook their heads, “He has a lot to learn, doesn’t he?” Eomer jested.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got us to teach you about life in Rohan. Come on, first thing is to introduce you to Rohirrim ale. It’s bitter and warm, and as my father says, it will put hair on your chest,” Théodred laughed.

Legolas seemed concerned for a moment and touched his hand to his chest, “I’m not sure I’d like that.”

Both boys burst out into a fit of laughter at Legolas’ naiveté. When they caught their breath, they each put a hand on the elf’s shoulder, patting him, “We better wizen you up quickly, Legolas,” Théodred chuckled as they made their way to the mead hall.

They went around to the back of the building and peeked in through an open window. Just inside the door were three huge tapped kegs. It seemed easy enough to slip in through the door, fill a mug and sneak back out, but the back room was busy with servers and cooks. Across the room was a pit lined with bricks, a fire blazing inside, and a whole pig turning on a spit. Two men fussed over the roasting meat, one turning the handle and rotating the spit, while the other added wood to the fire and adjusted the logs with a poker. The other servants were running in and out, filling pewter mugs at the kegs until the white foam spilled over the edge of each glass.

“They are busy tonight,” Eomer commented, “We won’t be sneaking in this way.”

Théodred smiled wickedly, “You know what that means. The first batch of honey wine has come out.”

“It is early this year,” Eomer said, as the boys discussed it.

“What is honey wine?” Legolas asked.

“It is also known as mead. It is produced by fermenting honey and water along with other ingredients that I am not sure of. What I do know is that they add hops and some grain and it becomes a sweet but potent ale,” Théodred explained, “None of that warg piss for us tonight.”

Legolas laughed at the term, “That’s what Hafdan called it.”

“It has its reputation,” Eomer added.

Théodred slapped the elf on the back, “Legolas, my friend, you are in for a treat, but it will be a challenge to get.”

“Why is that?” the elf inquired.

“It is kept in smaller barrels behind the bar in the mead hall where it is rationed out carefully so that everyone gets a taste,” Théodred answered, “And it is for the men only. I don’t think they’d mind if I walked off with a few mugs of the regular stuff, but not the honey wine. The trick is to find someone who won’t notice their mug disappearing, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, you mean someone who is drunk,” said Legolas, with a crooked smile. He was starting to figure out their game.

“You catch on quickly,” prodded Théodred, “Well, we won’t be going in the back door. If I’m going to get us any of the good stuff, I’ll have to walk right in the front door and be quick about it. Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve done this. Come on, let’s move around to the main entrance.”

The three boys abandoned the window and walked along the side of the building, stopping at the front corner. Théodred told them to wait while he went inside and assessed the crowd. By this time of evening, there would surely be plenty of men to choose from, already cockeyed and in one’s cups

Legolas was relieved, “I thought you were going to have me do it,” he told Théodred.

“Stealing mead takes some skill, and I don’t think you’re ready for that yet. You’ve only just arrived. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of time to teach you,” Théodred replied with a scandalous wink, then he disappeared into the mead hall.

“So what’s your story? Why have the Woodsmen brought you here?” Eomer asked. While his cousin was gone, he decided to take the time to get to know Legolas a little better.

“After Mirkwood was attacked, it was only me and Elhadron. He was the chief counselor and like family to me. We escaped and came to the Woodsmen’s village. They took us in and considered us one of their own. Then one day, the village was besieged by orcs. They killed Elhadron and would have killed me too, but they retreated. They saw me though. They knew the Woodsmen were harboring elves, and for fear of the enemy’s return, we left the Rhovanion, taking up residence with the Beornings. Folvar, my foster father, said he could not take me back to the village. I guess I don’t blame him. He has his people to protect, and it was a risk to have Elhadron and me living there, but it was home … you know?” Legolas stopped and stared at the ground. He was finally realizing just how much of a risk Folvar had taken by sheltering elves. Men had died that day the orcs attacked … because of him. All the more reason to train and become like his father, to avenge those who laid down their lives.

He cleared his thoughts of revenge and continued, “And so, they brought me here in hopes that your King would give me a home and continue my training.” Legolas finished and leaned back against the outer wall of the mead hall.

“So what happened to your parents?” Eomer asked.

“My mother died not long after I was born. Spiders attacked her and some of the other elves while they were out tending the gardens. My father raised me as best he could. He was a warrior, a great warrior, and he died protecting me so that Elhadron and I could escape. I … I saw when he fell.” Legolas stopped and looked to the ground, pushing the dirt around with his boot, “There were too many of them, and the orcs overpowered him. It is something I will never forget.”

Eomer leaned against the wall next to Legolas, bending his knee and anchoring his foot against the building, “I didn’t see it, but I heard my mother die. So did Eowyn. You see, we lived in the Westfold, a village out on the plains of Rohan. My father was one of the captains. A group of Dunlendings assailed upon our borders and killed the guards, my father being one of them. Then they came to our village. My mother made my sister and me hide beneath the floorboards. My father hollowed out a place for just that sort of situation, but it was only large enough for Éowyn and I. My mother told us not to come out no matter what we heard.” Eomer paused and shook his head, “It was awful, Legolas. Her screams still haunt me. Eowyn would not speak for a long time after that. She was in shock. Well, it was not long after that we heard the thunder of horses and knew that the Rohirrim had come, but it was too late for many of our villagers. My uncle found our mother and covered her body with a blanket so that Eowyn and I would not have to see what brutality befell her. He took us back to Edoras and now he raises us. He does his best, but it’s not the same. He’s not my father.”

It was strange, but Legolas felt a connection with Eomer. They had both lost their parents suddenly and without warning, both orphaned and now living somewhere new. For so long, Legolas had been the only one to know what this felt like, but Eomer knew. “Well, you are lucky to still have kin. I am the last of my kind, the only wood elf to escape the destruction of Mirkwood. I vow to become great like my father and seek out those that took everything away from me. One day I will crush them and see evil destroyed.”

“That makes two of us,” Eomer said proudly, “Théodred has his destiny to become King, and I shall be Marshall of the Mark. I will return to the Westfold someday, and see that it thrives once again.”

Legolas smiled, “We will be unstoppable.”

Eomer stood up straight, pushing his back away from the building and looked at Legolas. “I’m sorry if I said anything hurtful when we first met. I’ve never seen an elf before, and I was sort of surprised, but you know, we seem to think a lot alike. I’m glad we met, and I’m glad you’ll be staying in Rohan.” Eomer held his arm out to Legolas. The elf did the same and they grasped forearms.

“I think Rohan will suit this elf just fine,” Legolas admitted.

Just at that moment, Théodred came rushing around the corner carrying three big pewter mugs of mead, the golden liquid sloshing over the edges as he hurried along. He handed one to each boy and smiled a big satisfied grin.

“Easy,” he gloated, “Not one of them can see straight in there. Half of them thought I was someone else.”

Legolas looked into his mug and sniffed it. He could smell the honey and the hops. It had quite a pleasant aura actually. He started to take a sip, but Théodred stopped him with a toast, “Raise your glasses, men,” he boasted, and the other two did as he said. The prince looked to each one, “Here’s to new friends.”

“Hear, hear,” Eomer and Legolas said in unison. They lowered their mugs and each took a big sip. Théodred and Eomer finished about half of theirs before they came up for air, but Legolas kept drinking until he emptied his cup. The other two stared at him wide eyed.

“That is strong stuff, Legolas. You’ll have us carrying you home before the evening is over,” Théodred commented.

Legolas drank the last drop, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and smiled, “I’ve never tasted anything so delightful. I wish I could have more.”

Théodred and Eomer exchanged glances with a mischievous wink. The prince handed his half-full mug to Legolas, “Here, you can have the rest of mine.”

“Are you sure?” Legolas asked.

Théodred shoved the cup towards him, “Drink up, my friend.”

“Here, you can have mine too,” added Eomer, handing him his cup after Legolas finished what was left of Théodred’s drink.

Legolas waved his hand in protest. “Oh, I don’t think I should. Théodred went to a lot of trouble to obtain these.”

“I insist,” Eomer said, and forced the cup into Legolas’ hand, taking the empty mugs from him in return.

“Besides, it is only the beginning of the season for honey wine. There will be other opportunities,” Théodred encouraged.

Legolas finished off the last of the mead and sighed, “It’s beginning to get warm out tonight.”

Théodred chuckled and elbowed Eomer. They knew all too well it was not the weather that Legolas was feeling, but the aftereffects of the mead. They watched the elf a moment as he hiccupped and belched, “Oh, excuse me,” Legolas laughed.

“How do you feel now?” Eomer asked.

“I feel . . . I feel like I wish . . . the night would . . . would never end,” the elf declared with a slight slur.

“Well, we have one more place to show you. Tell me Legolas,” Théodred continued, “Have you ever heard of the shield maidens?”

“Shield maidens? Do they make shields? Or perhaps they clean and repair them?” Legolas burst into a fit of giggles, stopping instantly when another hiccup interrupted him.

Théodred whispered to Eomer, “Oh, this will be fun,” and Eomer laughed quietly.

* * *

“Where are we?” Legolas said softly as the three boys stood behind a shed. Across the lawn was another building, wooden walls and thatched roof like all the rest. This one was out close to the practice grounds.

“That, up ahead, is the shield maiden’s barracks. The new recruits have just begun their training and they stay here during that time,” Théodred explained.

Eomer continued, “A shield maiden is a woman who has decided to dedicate her time to train as a warrior. Not every woman makes this choice. Only those willing to set aside thoughts of family for weapons choose this life style.”

“So, do they fight alongside your men during battle?” Legolas asked curiously.

“In desperate times when the men must march into battle, the shield maidens patrol the city. There have been times when every man was needed in war, and as you can see, Edoras can be vulnerable to attack. But never misjudge one of these women warriors. They can be quite deadly.” Eomer nudged Théodred, “Isn’t that right, cousin?” He laughed and Legolas turned to the prince.

“Why, what happened?” the elf inquired.

“It was a couple years ago. I was with some of the older boys and they thought it would be fun to dare me to enter the shield maiden’s barracks and steal something of theirs. It seemed easy enough, since no one was there, but as I was about to take one of their personal items, I suddenly felt the cold steel of a sharp blade against my throat. There’s something to be said about a woman trained for battle. They do not take too kindly to boys sneaking around their belongings.” Théodred paused as he reminisced, “I begged her to let me go, but she said she would not let me off that easy. The knife she held lowered to a most uncomfortable place. I thought for sure she would castrate me.” Théodred stopped, leaving the other two hanging on his words.

“What happened?” Legolas asked enthusiastically.

Théodred smiled, “She gave me my first kiss.”

“What?” the other two said as one voice.

Legolas glanced at Eomer, “I thought you knew about this already.”

“I knew he snuck into the barracks and was caught, but . . .” Eomer turned to Théodred with narrowed eyes, “he did not tell me about a kiss.”

Théodred continued in answer to Eomer’s curiosity, “She said she would not tell my father that I was snooping around the women’s barracks, as long as I told no one that she had kissed a prince.”

“But you just told us,” Legolas pointed out.

“Yes, but I did not tell you who she is so I have not broken any rules.”

“So what happened after that?” Eomer wondered.

Théodred gave them a wicked grin, “She was not just my first kiss.” He gave them a ridiculous wink, shocking the other two boys.

“You mean you … and she . . .” Legolas stared at him wide eyed and disbelieving.

Théodred fell back against the side of the shed and gazed up at the stars, “Oh yes, quite a few times.” He released a sigh, “I’m gonna marry her someday.”

“You did not tell me all of that,” Eomer complained.

“I’ve not told anyone. It has only just happened in the last few months,” Théodred confessed, “Not the kiss, but the—” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, then finished his daydreaming and focused his attention on Legolas, “Alright, time to get on with the initiations. We’ve had some fun tonight, but now let’s see how far you are willing to go.” Théodred pointed to the women’s barracks, “It’s your turn, Legolas.”

“You want me to sneak into a room full of sleeping shield maidens and steal something?” the elf asked disbelievingly.

“We’ve all had to do something to prove our worth to each other. We like you, Legolas, but we need to know how far you are willing to go for us.”

“I think I’ve proven myself. I have only just arrived, and already I have snuck into the armory, and shared a forbidden drink with you,” Legolas protested.

“Yes,” Théodred went on, “In which the lock was picked by Eomer, and I was the one to steal the ale. You have stayed right by our side this whole evening, but now it’s time for you to do a deed.” He took a step towards the elf, coming face to face with him, “I don’t think you see what an opportunity you have been given, Elf. My father has agreed to take you into his home and give you the education and training that you so desperately seek. What do you think will be expected of you? There is room in his army for leaders, and you have an advantage over the others since you will be of his house. We want to know how committed you are now so that we know what to expect of you later. Eomer and I do not take our futures in the army lightly, no soldier does. We need to know that you will be there, supporting us, supporting each other when the time comes. What can you add to this brotherhood, Legolas? Already we know that you can see and hear better than any human, and that will no doubt be a great commodity, but that alone is not enough. Show us how far you are willing to go for those who may look to you for protection someday.” Théodred’s steely eyes bore into Legolas’ ice blue ones.

Neither one spoke for a long moment. Legolas was the first to respond, “Alright then, if you feel you need proof I will give it to you, but it better be enough. My word is good, and it always will be. Now, what am I to retrieve?”

Théodred smiled fiendishly, “A pair of their undergarments.”

Legolas’ shoulders slumped, “And just how do you expect me to do that?”

“Relax, I didn’t say to slip them off one of the women. At the foot of each cot is a chest with their things. All you have to do is sneak in, look in one of their chests, get the item and sneak back out. Let’s find out if it’s true what they say about the silent footsteps of the elves. This should be easy for you.”

Legolas furrowed his brow, “It might have been easier if you hadn’t given me that mead.” Although the effects of the honey wine has subsided a bit, he was still a bit tipsy.

“Consider it part of the challenge,” Théodred teased, “Hurry now. The night is getting late and we will need to get back to the house before we are missed.”

Legolas walked quietly across the lawn and came to the door of the women’s barracks. He put his hand on the doorknob and looked around before entering. When it seemed all was clear, he turned the handle and slowly pushed the door open. It was dark inside, but for the faint glow from a lantern here or there. Cots lined each side of the long barracks building. Next to each cot was a small nightstand. On the wall, above each bed, hung a rack that housed each shield maiden’s weapon, mostly swords, but a few bows also. This peeked Legolas’ curiosity. Future competition perhaps, he thought to himself. No time to consider that now, he had panties to steal.

The young women were all safely tucked into their comfortable, hay stuffed beds, sleeping quietly, perhaps a little too quiet, he thought. Legolas moved along down the center aisle, the soft soles of his boots making no sound at all. He passed the fourth bed, and the woman occupying it turned on her side with a moan. Legolas crouched down quickly and waited until she breathed long and slow again. He took this moment to observe his surroundings, and decided that the next bed on the left would suffice. Just as Théodred had said, there was a cedar chest at the foot of each bed. He crawled on hands and knees the short distance to the chest and slowly lifted it. Every few inches, the hinges popped and he stopped movement, listening for signs of sudden awareness from any of the sleeping women. Nothing. He kept going until the lid was raised and he could rummage through it. Shirts, leggings, dresses … not what he was looking for. The tips of his fingers felt cold steel and he paused. Hmm, rounded metal … two of them with leather straps—

He palmed the object with his hand. Something about the feel of it seemed exotic, and he realized what it was, protective undergarments, a corset of some sort. Legolas stretched his neck around the side of the chest, looking at the sleeping woman. Yes, this would definitely fit her form. Her reddish blond hair spilled over her pillow, such delicate features. It was difficult for him to imagine her as a ruthless killer, as Eomer and Théodred had described. Still, he didn’t want to find out the hard way. Legolas thought about taking the metal garment for his proof, but it would possibly be more trouble to steal. Instead, he searched until he felt something small and soft. Ah, he had it, a pair of the fair maiden’s undergarments or at least he had hoped it was. The elf felt as though he has spent more than enough time looking for the item. He took the silky thing and tucked it into his suede tunic, closed the lid of the chest and made his way back towards the entrance. He twisted the handle, slowly opening the door, when from somewhere down the long room, he heard the rustling of sheets and a feminine moan.

“Aye, what’s that?” she said to no one in particular, as she sniffed the air.

The girl next to her must have awakened, “What is it?” she said with a groggy voice, as she came out of her slumber.

“I smell mead.”

The second girl sniffed and sat up in her bed. “I smell it too. You don’t think—” She paused as she heard the slightest click of the door closing.

As soon as Legolas was clear of the barracks, he took off at a run. He could just barely see two heads peering around the corner of the shed, Théodred and Eomer.

“Who’s in here?” came a muffled cry from within the barracks.

Legolas didn’t look back, but motioned desperately with his arms, and mouthed the word ‘run’ to the other boys. When he was close enough, he yelled in a loud whisper, “Run, you two. Run now.”

Not waiting for the elf to get to them, Théodred and Eomer left their hiding place behind the shed and took off at a sprint across the lawn and toward Meduseld. Legolas caught up to them in record time and ran out ahead of them, “Hurry, the both of you.”

The other boys were amazed at Legolas’ speed, but now was not the time to comment. They ran until they were at the base of the platform that held the Golden Hall, then flew up the steps taking them two at a time. Legolas started for the front doors, but Eomer grabbed his arm.

“Not that way, the guards are just inside. We’ll have to use the side entrance, this way.”

The three boys followed one after the other around the side of the hall, ducking beneath windows as they passed. Finally, they made it to an entrance, slipped inside and rushed along to the hall that housed their rooms. They stopped just outside Eomer’s room, the Rohirric boys breathing heavy while Legolas was only slightly out of breath. As soon as they could speak, they all started laughing. Théodred shushed them before they got too loud, and slapped the elf on the shoulder.

“What in Mordor happened back there? I’ve never seen anyone run so fast in all my life,” the prince asked.

“As I was slipping out the door, someone awoke. All I could imagine was a room full of angry shield maidens coming at me with swords in hand, ready to chop me into a thousand pieces.”

“Did you get it?” Eomer asked. He watched as Legolas reached into his tunic and pulled a white cloth from it.

Legolas held it in his hands, and realized he had indeed grabbed the right thing, some sort of silk wrap with buttons on one side. The other two boys closed in around the elf and all three stood in a tight circle, whispering and quietly chuckling.

“I wonder what she looks like wearing them,” Eomer pondered.

“You should be wondering what she looks like out of them,” Théodred jested, and Legolas felt his face heat and blush red. Such thoughts were new to the elf, but these boys seemed to have them all the time. There was definitely a lot to learn about Rohirric life.

The three boys talked quietly, flipping the garment this way and that as they observed it. They were too busy making jokes and congratulating Legolas to notice when someone approached them.

“There you are,” Eowyn exclaimed, “Do you have any idea how late it is? I was beginning to wonder if something happened to you.”

“What are you doing up anyways?” Eomer retorted, “And it’s none of your business where we were. Go back to bed, sister.”

Eowyn ignored her brother and closed the distance. She caught the flash of something white in Legolas’ hands, “What is that you have there?”

The two boys began snickering, and Legolas turned absentmindedly, the lady garment still in his hands. He had no answer and was beyond embarrassed as Eowyn snatched the material from his hands. She held it up in the lamp light and gasped. “Eomer, where did you get these?”

“I didn’t get them, Legolas did,” he laughed, and Théodred joined him.

Éowyn crossed her arms and looked at all three boys, eyebrow cocked, and the toes of her left foot tapping an irritated rhythm on the wood floor, “You expect me to believe that? He has only just arrived, and already you would corrupt his mind and have him sneaking into the women’s barracks?

Eomer and Théodred’s laughter came to an abrupt stop, “How do you know about—”

“All shield maidens know about the pranks the boys play,” she interrupted.

Eomer stood tall and pushed his chest out, “You are not a shield maiden.”

“Not yet, but I will be, and I already have plans for setting a trap inside my locker.” She stood still, glancing at each one, shaking her head slowly, “Honestly, why are boys so immature?”

Théodred stepped forward and looked down at her. He was a few years older and much taller than she was. He intimidated most other boys, if not because of his height then because of his royal standing, “Why must you have your nose into everything we do?” he growled.

Eowyn pushed her finger into Théodred’s chest, “I also know that you had your moment of theft a while back,” she smiled satisfied.

Théodred took a deep breath and was about to respond, when Eomer spoke up, “Well, you know too much then. Besides, we speak the truth. It was Legolas who stole them. If he’s going to live under this roof and be a part of our brotherhood, he’s got to prove himself.”

Eowyn turned her deadly stare towards her brother, “He would not dare do something so ridiculous.”

“Yes I would,” Legolas admitted. He was getting tired of everyone thinking they knew him better than he knew himself.

Eowyn gasped, her mouth left hanging open. “Truly, you would let these two persuade you so easily?” She shook her head and glared at her brother, unconvinced that Legolas had made the decision on his own, “I should go to Uncle, and tell him how you have managed to ruin a perfectly decent elf within just a few hours of his arrival. You have done some ridiculous things, but this—”

Eomer balled his hands into fists, upset with his sister’s chastising, “You wouldn’t dare.”

The tension between brother and sister was dangerously thick. Without another word, Eowyn turned as if to make her way to her uncle’s quarters, but stopped to face the boys again. She threw the undergarment at Eomer, who flinched and ducked. The garment landed on the burgundy rug, crumpled. Eowyn glared at her brother, “Make this right, return these to their proper owner and I won’t mention a word to Uncle.”

“That is not fair. This is none of your business,” Eomer protested, “And I’m not the one who took them.”

“No, but you and Théo are the ones responsible for—”

“This time you’ve gone too far, cousin,” Théodred interrupted, clearly upset with Eowyn, “The day you first arrived, you’ve been nothing but an eavesdropping, conniving—”

Legolas stepped forward, squaring his shoulders as he stood up straight and tall, “Enough, all of you. I took them. If this will set things right between everyone, I’ll return them.”

“You don’t have to listen to her,” Eomer started, but Legolas held his hand up to stop him.

“You told me I must prove myself to you, to show you that I could be trusted. That’s why I did it. Now Eowyn is asking for the same thing. I will return the garment and apologize if it will mean gaining her trust also.” Legolas leaned down and picked up the evidence of everyone’s confidence in his faithfulness.

Eowyn gave her brother and cousin an egotistic look, “I’m satisfied with that. Uncle will not know about your little outing. Just one more thing though. I will be amongst those in the women’s barracks soon, and I better not catch any of you in there. And if I do, you will not get out alive.” Finished with her threats, she went back to her room and closed the door.

Eomer was livid, but Théodred calmed him, “Don’t worry about her. She wouldn’t have said anything anyways. How many times has she made threats and never followed through with any of them.”

“That’s because we are always bowing to her. I for one am tired of it. Legolas, I say you don’t have to do anything she says,” Eomer demanded.

“I wasn’t planning to. I just wanted to keep the peace between everyone. There’s no chance of me coming face to face with a woman who owns a sword like the one I saw hanging above her bed.”

The three friends laughed and felt themselves bonding quickly. Legolas had proved himself and the others had no more doubts about the elf. From that moment on, they were inseparable.

* * *

After that night and their narrow escape from the wrath of the shield maidens, Legolas, Théodred and Eomer decided it was best to stay close to the Golden Hall. While the two boys carried out their daily chores, Legolas spent his time with the Woodsmen, who were still in the city. Soon they would have to be on their way and Legolas would miss them sorely. Folvar, Hafdan and Kular were his family and that was a difficult thing to lose. Legolas knew this feeling all too well.

They wanted to give Legolas the best chance they could, which was why they brought him to Rohan. Now, with only a few days before they left him in the hands of King Théoden, they wanted to give him the best advice they could as Woodsmen. So, they took Legolas to the blacksmith’s shop and had him try different swords. The elf was strong and quick. He would need something light to carry and easy to wield quickly. Legolas’ weapon of choice was a bow, but in close combat, his arrows would do him no good. Right away, the elf decided that he did not like the traditional sword sheathed at his side. He said it was too confining and slowed his actions. He was used to carrying his bow and quiver on his back and wondered about carrying a sword in this fashion also.

“’Tis not practical,” the blacksmith replied.

Kular went to a rack that held swords of many shapes and lengths. He picked up certain ones and swung them around, testing them. None of them would do. Then he stumbled upon a broken sword and brought it to the farrier, “What about this?”

“It is broken. What would you want with it?” the man asked.

“It can be reshaped into a shorter blade, a long knife if you prefer. The blade itself does not need to be so wide. It just needs to be sharp and light to carry,” Kular explained.

Hafdan came to his side, observing the broken blade and seeing its potential, “Yes, yes, Brother that is a good idea, and I have a vision for a sheath that can attach to his back, using a long strap that will crisscross over his chest. His quiver could easily attach to it also.” Hafdan turned to the farrier, “Where can I find your leather craftsman?” The blacksmith gave him directions, and Hafdan patted Kular on the back, “You stay here and work with him on the design of the long knife. Actually, make that knives. Can ye do that?” he asked the blacksmith.

Kular turned to Legolas and smiled, “We’ll have you all set up with weapons before we leave.”

A few days later, and the day that the Woodsmen were leaving, Legolas’ new long knives were finished. The men gathered around him on the green lawn before Meduseld. Hafdan handed him the leather sheath and showed him how to put it on. It slipped on easily and buckled across the chest. Legolas noticed right away that the buckle was in the shape of a leaf from a beech tree. He ran his finger along its edges and smiled as he looked at the men.

“It represents Mirkwood, your home,” Folvar told him, “Never forget.”

Folvar nodded to Hafdan, who came forward and presented Legolas with a glimmering pair of long knives, straight with the tips curved upward. The twin handles were carved from white ivory from a mumakil tusk, and upon the blade were elvish runes. Legolas examined it with amazement.

“How do you know written elvish?” he asked as he took one of the long knives from Hafdan, watching it sparkled in the sunlight.

“Elhadron had a book of elvish that he gave to us. I remember seeing these runes and thought they represented you best,” Folvar answered.

Legolas touched each one and recited, “Strength, Courage, and Trust.”

“You will make a fine warrior, Legolas. You represent a fallen people. Show the enemy that they could not destroy all of them. There is at least one wood elf left,” Folvar said with determination and fire.

“One day, I will claim my home again. Evil will not rule there forever,” answered Legolas.

The men took turns hugging Legolas and giving last minute advice. In the meantime, stable hands brought their horses, packed and ready for their journey to Lothlórien, where they would join their fellow Woodsmen and set out for Dol Guldur. Before they left, Folvar had one more gift. He unhooked the great bow from his back and gave it to Legolas.

“I cannot take this. It is your weapon. What will you use to fight with?” the elf said worriedly.

“It’s alright, one of the other men will have an extra weapon. I want you to have this. Ever has it kept me safe. You will soon outgrow yours. This is as sturdy as any bow. My father made this, used it and when his time came, he passed it down to me. Now I have someone who I can pass it to. I’m very proud of you, Legolas, and I know Elhadron and your father would have felt just the same.”

Legolas nodded, but the lump rising in his throat kept him from speaking. Folvar patted him on the back. “Take care of yourself and maybe you will come back to visit us someday.”

“I will. I promise,” he whispered.

The three Woodsmen mounted their horses and started down the stone street that led to the great wooden gates of Edoras. Legolas bound up the stairs of the Golden Hall and stood on the porch, looking after them as they passed through the gate and followed the dirt path past the Barrowfield, and on until they crossed the River Snowbourn. Soon they were naught but a speck on the horizon before they disappeared altogether.

Legolas stood alone at the top of the wide stairs. He looked down at the bow in his hand and sighed. He knew it was time to mature and stand a little taller than he had when he awoke that morning. In a way, he felt as if he were on his own, a single soul in the world, the last wood elf. Then he felt a presence behind him and heard the unmistakable footsteps of his new friends. Théodred and Eomer came up to him, each taking their place at the elf’s side.

Théodred spoke first, “This is your home now, Legolas, as much as it is mine and Eomer’s. We are brothers now, in a way. We will fight together one day, and we will hew down our enemy.”

“They will fear what we will become,” Eomer added, “Can you feel it?”

Legolas raised Folvar’s bow, bringing it up and aiming it. He stretched the string back until it rested at his cheek, and then he narrowed his eyes as he focused on an invisible enemy, “Yes, Eomer, I do feel it. We will be unstoppable someday. The Woodsmen were right. This is where I belong, and from now on, you are both as a brother to me. I meant what I said the day we met. I will always be true to my word.”

“And so are we, Elf Brother,” Théodred laid his hand on Legolas’ shoulder, “Come now. I think it is time we spoke to my father about our training. The time has come to move forward.”
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Kudos to my beta, Mindirith
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The Last Wood Elf