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Of Light and Shadow	By : Avaloyuru Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2298 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any copyright to the Tolkien/Middle-Earth Fandom, nor his canon characters or languages. I do not receive any form of compensation for this fanfiction. Original characters are my property.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
Emotions of every sort run high not only within the young Prince Legolas and those who knew Thranduil well as well as other the returning elves of the Woodland Realm in the north. The elves of Fornost struggle to put the past behind them as they release the Elvenking and set out for their new home in the forest on the shores of the Sea of Rhûn.
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The only pass through the northern curve of the Misty Mountains safe enough for large numbers was the Hoarwell Pass. The only remaining obstacle into the Woodland Realm was the great Anduin River that started in the foothills of the Ered Mithrin Mountains in the far north, cutting a path to the southern most regions of Gondor. As winter began to loosen its hold, the warmer days of early spring melted the snow and ice on the lower peaks, fresh streams and waterfalls formed down the mountainside swelling the waters of the great river to dangerous levels.
Unreadable slate blue eyes watched the long procession of mounted soldiers from the Woodland Realm as it moved at what felt like an agonizingly slow pace. The late morning sun glinted off the armor of the troops as they moved through the valley of the pass, surrounding a smaller group of men, women, and children with their wagons filled with all that remained of their worldly possessions.
“Häëmir, get a report from the rear.” Aldalómë stated without turning his gaze from the view before him.
The Chief March Warden was more than uncomfortable with the escort, yet he could not in good conscious have left the travelers to find their own way through the mountains. Many surviving orcs from the battle had fled the plains of Erebor to the safety of vast caverns and goblin tunnels within the mountains. Scavenging off unwary travelers, small groups had been spotted on the higher cliffs, watching yet they were unwilling to attack such a large armed force.
Many years they had lived in the shadow of the threat of Smaug, his defeat should have been a joyous occasion not only for the elves of the Woodland Ream but for the people of Lake Town and Dale. The battle on the plains of Erebor had cost all of them dearly, beyond the devastating loss of life among the elves, their beloved King Thranduil was still missing.
“The second group has crossed.” Gráthgör informed him as he reached the higher ground where the Chief March Warden maintained his vigil over his troops. “It’ll be nightfall before the last of them reach the other shore.”
“Send word with the next barge to prepare the camp.” Aldalómë said quietly as he turned to look at his lieutenant, his gaze still unreadable. “We will not be entering the forest at night.”
“As you wish.” Gráthgör stated with a nod as he turned and guided his mount back toward the river and the ferrymen.
Struggling to hide his own unbidden memories, Aldalómë continued to watch the young prince and the two forest patrol captains. It felt like a lifetime ago that he and most of the other March Wardens had served in the forest patrol under Thranduil as their Commander. Although much older and more experienced, he still understood the comradery amongst them and their respect for Legolas as their Commander. So great was his love for him, that in his heart he knew he would have followed Thranduil to the end of world if he had asked it of him. But the world was changing around them and he feared not only for the prince, but for the elves and the Woodland Realm itself.
“It will not be an easy task going through the forest with such a large group.” Eluandúnië said quietly as the Chief March Warden guided his mount down from the small rise to join him.
“You will not be going through the forest.” Aldalómë stated, reining his mount to a halt. “I want you to take these people and head north. It will be safer if you follow the trail along the Grey Mountains. I will take the Prince and only a few guards through the forest as I must return him to the palace without delay.”
“He is still young.” Eluandúnië said softly, his gaze shifting briefly toward the prince. “One day he will understand.” He added, meeting the guarded expression on his friends face.
“I can only hope you are right.” He sighed heavily as he turned to watch the three of them. “We both know Thranduil has protected him from so much. I think perhaps overly so.”
“I believe there is more to him than you give him credit.” Eluandúnië stated, arching a brow as he smiled at his friend. “Still, he will have you and the rest of us to help guide him.”
“Make sure someone keeps an eye on all three of them for tonight.” Aldalómë stated in a guarded tone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he turned back to him. “I will not be comfortable until he has been safely returned to where he belongs.”
Watching as the Chief March Warden turned his mount quickly away from him, Eluandúnië knew it was not just the return of the Prince that concerned his friend. There were memories of his own from the distant past that haunted his thoughts in Thranduils’ absence. It pained him greatly to see the grief he struggled to hide from everyone else hidden deep in his eyes, knowing that it was Aldalómë’s love for him that made it so much harder for him.
“I cannot go against Aldalómë.” Träëliôrn stated, his voice was quiet yet his frustration and anger at the Prince was clear in his tone. “There is nothing to be done about it now. You must return to the palace and assume your rightful position.”
“He is right Legolas.” Ivósaar sighed even as he glared at Träëliôrn. “None of us can know how you feel right now but your place is in the palace. The people will look to you for guidance.”
“I do not want this!” Legolas exclaimed through clenched teeth as he hurled the small stone he had been toying with into the darkness. “I have never wanted the crown!”
“Then do not accept it.” Eluandúnië stated quietly but clearly as he stood just beyond the glow of the small fire. “Leave us.” He added, glancing between the two captains as they all turned quickly to look up at him.
“It does not sound as if I am being given much of a choice.” Legolas stated, his gaze studying the March Warden as he lowered himself to the ground next to him.
“There are always choices Legolas.” He said as he shifted into a more comfortable position, folding his legs in front of him. “True, you have no choice in who you are, but there is a choice in what you do with who you are.”
“Stop talking to me in riddles.” Legolas complained, turning his attention back to the fire.
“You see my words as riddles only because you demand answers to questions that you do not know how to ask.” He replied in a guarded tone so as not to anger the young prince any further. “You must first set aside the voice in your heart before you can hear the voice in your mind.”
“How do you expect me to do that, he is my Adar.” (Father) Legolas stated as he reached for a small twig that jutted out from the glowing embers of the fire. “He has always been my strength. I cannot believe he is gone.”
“Cannot or will not?” He asked quietly, studying him intently.
“Both.” Legolas replied, his tone was dry and emotionless. “My father is strong and a great warrior. He would not have been easily taken in battle. If he had fallen in battle there would have been something of him for us to find.”
“Ayë.” (Yes) He sighed heavily, nodding in agreement. “There are many who also believe as you do. This is why there is still hope among the people. Even if you do not accept the crown, you must accept the fact that even as Regent they will look to you as the symbol of that hope.”
“I am not ready for any of this.” Legolas stated, his shoulders slumping as he laid his head back and stared up at the stars.
“It is still too soon.” Eluandúnië said quietly as he pushed himself to his feet. “You will deal with this in your own way, just remember you are not alone in your pain.”
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The western face of the Misty Mountains was bathed in the reddish golden glow of the setting sun. The ragged surface and jutting outcroppings casting longer shadows across the mountain side, making it more difficult to watch for signs of the orcs and goblins rumored to live deep in the ancient mines of Moria. The entrance to the Hollin Pass was still at least five leagues ahead of the small group moving within the foothills of the mountains.
“I do not like going through the pass at night.” Dorinäélin said quietly as he pulled his mount closer to Taráthiël.
“We have no choice.” He replied, casting him a quick glance. “We cannot afford being seen by the watch at Hollin Ridge.”
“The sun is setting, they will be watching the Redhorn Pass near Khazad-Dûm.” Dorinäélin said absently as he scanned the mountain side to their left.
Falling silent once again, they continued to scan the mountain side for any sign of orcs or goblins as they made their way south. They were in open grasslands now and could easily be spotted by anything moving in the shadows in the rocky cliffs above them. This was the most dangerous part of their journey as they would have to split up once they reached the lee of Hollin Ridge, the tallest peak in the lower part of the mountain range. They had already agreed only two would remain with the supplies at their camp while the rest moved through the pass with the wagons. Once everything had been set, two more would return to the camp to wait for the other two to return once they knew the fires had been seen.
“You alright?” Edicûve asked quietly as he turned to look at Cerályië.
“No, but I will be fine.” He replied, turning away from the mountain to look at his friend, a slight smile curling his lips as he tried to reassure him.
“I wish there was another way.” He sighed, studying his face for a moment.
“This is the best way.” Cerályië said quietly as he turned back toward the face of the mountain. “I will cherish the memories and be comforted with that much.” He added almost to himself.
“The fire and the seeming...”
“Will be felt as nothing more than simple elven earth magic.” Cerályië interrupted him, smiling slightly to take the sting out of his tone.
“I know you lied to him about his memories.” Edicûve stated, the disapproval ringing clearly in his voice. “That is what concerns me.”
“I have no choice.” He shot back at him, narrowing his eyes. “It is a risk I must take to protect him and myself.”
“What about you?” Edicûve asked, refusing to leave the matter rest between them.
“I do not want to forget.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping somewhat as he turned away from him. “The light within him has shown me that I am not lost in this darkness. Perhaps one day it will bring me peace.”
“We will be entering the mouth of the pass shortly.” Dorinäélin stated, reining in his mount as he approached them.
“Anything on the ridge?” Edicûve asked, turning toward him as Dorinäélin guided his mount next to him.
“Nothing yet but Taráthiël wants to stop and wait until the sun sets. It will be easier to spot the watcher if there is one.” He said, looking toward Cerályië.
“Fine, as long as we do not wait long.” He reluctantly agreed, it was already going to be a long night and wait of any length was dangerous at this point.
“It will be good to stretch our legs anyway.” Edicûve commented as they followed Dorinäélin back toward the front, stopping at the first wagon. “It has been too long since we have spent this much time on horseback.”
“The ridge is well beyond the watchtowers of Gondor.” Taráthiël said as they cantered up to him. “If there is a watcher, they should be watching the Gianduin Pass used by most of those still trading with Lórinand.” He added, studying Cerályië’s face as he scanned the mountain side.
“We do not have time for long delays at this point.” Cerályië stated, meeting his gaze evenly. “As it is it will take most of the night to accomplish what needs to be done.”
“Ayë.” (Yes) Taráthiël replied in a matter of fact tone. “But it will do us no good if we are seen too soon. The only blind spot from the ridge is directly below them at the base of the mountain on the other side of the pass.”
“You are right, of course.” Cerályië sighed as he forced himself to relax in the saddle.
“He is not handling this very well.” Taráthiël said quietly as they watched Cerályië turn his mount away from them back toward the covered wagon where Thranduil still lay in the spell induced slumber.
“I have tried talking to him but it is no use.” Edicûve sighed heavily as they watched him rein in his mount beside the covered wagon. “How would you feel if the one you had dreamed of for many years was suddenly a reality?”
“You know him better than most.” Taráthiël commented, turning his attention back to Edicûve. “Will he go through this?”
“Ayë.” (Yes) He replied, still watching Cerályië as he disappeared in to the covered wagon. “He knows Thranduil does not belong in our world and the last thing he wants is trouble from the Woodland Realm.”
“He’s in love with him isn’t he?” Taráthiël stated more than asked, a deep frown forming on his brow as he shook his head.
“Their bond runs far deeper than love I’m afraid.” He sighed, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle as he turned to look at the captain. “Their tormentor is one in the same. Lord Oropher sold him to the dark elf Annûmëä when he learned that it was Cerá himself that had not only told his wife Háleärgiliäth of what he had done to him but was planning on assisting her in taking his son from him to keep him from doing the same to Thranduil.”
“What sort of father would sell his own son?!” Taráthiël spat angrily, a shudder passed through his entire body at the very thought of it.
“Oropher would not have sold his son.” Edicûve stated in a tone void of emotion, his gaze turned toward the mountain side as he gathered his thoughts. “His interest in Cerá was fading, his attentions had already turned toward the child. After witnessing Oropher’s sexual abuse of the child, he sought only to protect him.”
“I pray he languish for all eternity in the Halls of Angband.” (Hell*) Taráthiël hissed through clenched teeth.
Although he knew he would not awaken him, Cerályië crept silently into the covered wagon as it was time to say his final goodbye to him. Lowering himself onto the edge of the narrow cot, he felt the ache like a knife in his heart as he smiled down at the beautiful sleeping face. Unbidden and unnoticed, hot tears soaked his cheeks as he sat there letting his gaze roam freely over the exquisitely chiseled features as if he sought to commit them to memory. Though he knew it was a face that would continue to haunt his dreams as it had done for so many centuries.
Reaching toward him hesitantly at first, he remembered Edicûves’ words that he had lied to him about his memories and prayed the powers to be could find a way to forgive him. With a gentle finger he slowly traced a line across the smooth brow as he whispered the words that would take his memories into himself.
“The end has come seems, your memories I turn to dreams. From you to me them I bind, no memory shall you find. What has come to pass, I shatter like glass. I set you free, I keep the memory of me.” Closing his eyes as he withdrew his touch, he sat quietly for a moment as he drew the memories into himself and buried them deeply within his heart.
Sensing the presence once more, Thranduil relaxed slightly as he floated within the darkness of a velvety night sky. This time he did not reach for it for fear that it would recoil from him, leaving him alone once more. He watched the flicker of the spray of starlight, frowning inwardly as they shimmered as if he gazed upon them from the depths of the sea. Fear crept into his heart yet he was quickly comforted by the now familiar warmth flow over him, holding him as if it sought to protect him from something yet unseen. Joy filled him as he felt the touch, so gentle yet it was the soothing sound that felt more like thoughts that pulled at him. Slowly it moved him toward slumber then into the all-encompassing nothingness of the darkness.
“Cerá!” Edicûve exclaimed, rushing toward him as he watched him stumble from the wagon.
“It is done.” Cerályië stated, choking back the tears as he fell into the tight embrace.
“Come on.” Edicûve said softy as he led him away from the others, sinking to the ground as he pulled him closer, trying to comfort him.
“I had to do it.” Cerályië said quietly, his voice thick with overwhelming sadness as he clung to him, burying his face in his neck. “I had to protect him.”
“As you always have, so you always will.” Edicûve said quietly, a sad smile touched his lips as he held him, smoothing his hair in the silence of the coming evening.
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End Notes:
Halls of Angband.” (Hell*) – These are the Halls reserved for those who will not be given the opportunity to return to Middle-Earth as is given to those who find themselves in the Halls of Mandos where they awaited their fate after a physical death.
Thanks again for reading! This chapter concludes this part of the story. Part two will follow after I have competed the other published story in order to be able to concentrate on one storyline at time and therefore (hopefully) publish chapters in a timelier manner.
- 11
- 12
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Of Light and Shadow