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The Protege IV: Lord of the Forests	By : alpham31 Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2097 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings is the sole creation of JRR Tolkien. The characters in this story are, therefore, not mine, with the exception of OCs. I make no money with my writing, it is purely for pleasure.

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Beta reader: Mindirith

What had started as afternoon tea in Celebrian’s dead garden, had slowly but surely transformed into a shocking, life-changing succession of revelations that had changed them all, for great deeds lay ahead, and they would all be a part of them, although how was not at all clear for most.

After Legolas had unraveled the mystery both to them and to himself, he had begged leave from them all. He needed time alone to think on what had been uncovered, what it meant to him, his family, his realm, his life, and so he had walked off into the outlying forests of Imladris, leaving the stunned lords in the gardens, not quite knowing what to do.

Elrond walked over to Glorfindel, who was looking after his lover with a face that expressed more than words ever could. There was nothing he wanted more than to join his prince, even in silent vigil, yet he knew he would not be welcome, for Legolas had come to know his destiny, and Glorfindel knew what that felt like in the flesh.

Placing a tender hand on his shoulder, Elrond bid him come. Glorfindel could only nod, following Elrond silently.

They had decided to join in debate in Elrond’s library. It was unthinkable to be alone right now; they all needed each other, needed to talk, to iron out the patches and chunks of information. Mithrandir had readily accepted - the calmest of them all perhaps, for he knew more than most of what was to come - he too was a protégé.

Arriving at their destiny, Elrond called for wine to be brought up. They sat on the balcony, sipping at their glasses, all of them silent, for what to say? Where to start?

Celeborn reached for the table and deposited his glass there, leaning back in his chair.

“In all my long years, I have never seen the likes”, he mused. “I knew that darkness would come again, that even now as we talk, it rises once more, yet the Valar have seen a way to defeat it even before it has truly begun. They have, in effect, set out a route map, a plan for us to take up, should we dare”, mused Celeborn.

“’Tis an interesting interpretation, Celeborn”, added Erestor. But why Yavanna? Why should it come from her and no other? If it was she who named Legolas as her champion, then does that make her the artifice of this plan?”

“I think not, Erestor”, said Galadriel, joining the debate for the first time. “I believe that her request for a champion would not have been unilateral. She would have needed to put it to the high council; it would need to be approved by all, for no Vala is free to make such monumental decisions on a personal whim. This she knows, for it was the same when she requested the Ents to protect her trees.”

“Aye you are right”, confirmed the maia, for he knew well the politics of the Valar. “This choice was approved by all, and I would wager a condition was wrought into the plan, one she had not requested or foreseen but accepted, for the sake of her children.”

“That would be true to character”, added Glorfindel, smiling. “It is my experience that nothing is given freely in situations such as these. There are always conditions, conditions that are not necessarily forfeits, but boons also.”

Elrond smiled back at his lover, for indeed he had been sent back to life, in exchange for his service to Elrond and his family.

Stroking his beard pensively, Mithrandir began his conjectures once more.

“Let us piece this together. We know that Yavanna brought before the high council, her desire for a champion to protect her forests. We also believe that the Valar granted this thing, with the condition that his destiny be tied with that of the future union of Middle Earth. And if this is true, it is the simplest yet most marvelous plan, because the return of the King of Gondor and Anor depends on one, white tree, a white tree that is under the protection of Yavanna, and by default, her champion; who better than he to see it done?”

He looked triumphantly at his avid audience. He knew he was right, or very nearly, and so did Galadriel.

“I believe you are right, Mithrandir, yet we should be wary for a while, for new information may change our interpretation. It is also clear to me, that we, as witnesses, are to be intimately tied to the coming events, and never better nor more literally expressed”, she stressed, glancing at Elrond, Glorfindel and Erestor, before continuing.

“The powers do not reveal themselves readily, and when they do, there is a purpose to it, there can be no misunderstanding here. We here are meant to play a role, pivotal or otherwise, yet we must, as such, be united in our common goal”, she finished, looking at every elf in turn, her eyes boring into theirs, searching their intentions. Of course she had already known they would all do their part, gladly, but the return of the king was an issue under debate in elven scholarly society. Some defended the idea, yet others believed that placing another of Isildur’s kin in such a position of power was a mistake, and that they should learn from the errors of the past. However, Galadriel saw no hesitation, they were all in agreement and that would make the task just a little easier, perhaps.

Elrond had turned, walking a way into the library. This would explain the confounding bond he felt with Legolas, it was destiny, he was meant to be close to this elf, intimately or not, and he suspected it was the same for the others, although especially for Glorfindel. He would need to talk to him privately later.

……………………………………………………………………………….

The light breeze soothed his hammering heart as he finally perched himself high above the canopy of trees, bracing his back against the sympathetic trunk.

He felt sad, so weighed down by grief and melancholy that his eyes brimmed with moisture and his chest throbbed. Tilting his face to the dappled sunlight that filtered through the green leaves, he closed his eyes and drew a heavy breath, falling into pensive reverie.

He had known this day would come, and he had accepted it with great humility, for to be chosen by one such as her was still beyond his ken. Yet accept it he had, and he had prepared himself as best he could, given the information he had. Now, he would take on the task before him, becoming Lord of the Forests, his duties would take him away from home far more frequently, and his father would not be happy – how he would manage he had no idea, for he was the leader of the Greenwood army. His father, yes – he would need to write a missive immediately, for to be invested as such, he needed his sire’s leave. And what then of Glorfindel? He had found happiness with this legendary warrior and he was loathe to leave him.

He heaved another sigh as he continued to analyze the situation. He thought then that perhaps he was over-reacting – maybe things would work out if he could only calm himself and think rationally. His lady had not demanded any specific duties from him, not yet anyway. She had only stated that he should heed the forests should they call to him. Perhaps he had thousands of years of peace ahead of him, before his destiny would begin to play out.

Yes, he would hold to that. Perhaps he would be able to fulfill his duties alongside his already considerable work load at home. Perhaps the change would be gradual, and therefore bearable. Yes, he would cling to this, for it was all he had.

Smiling now, he allowed his body to calm itself, closed his eyes, and rested his weary mind.

………………………………………………………………………………..

“What happens then? If she comes, it is for a purpose”, stated Celeborn.

“We do not know”, finished Galadriel for him. “There are no answers, Celeborn. We can only wait and observe, there is no point in wild conjectures at this point.”

“Indeed”, agreed the wizard.”

“You know”, began Mithrandir, “’Tis far more than he lets on. He is not to be made a lord, but king of the forests. There is a difference, politically and otherwise.”

“But that is nothing short of declaring a universal king of Elvendom”, exclaimed Celeborn.

“Nay, I think not”, replied the wizard. “You see, in a sense he would be just that, for he would have executive powers over your woods, Galadriel, just as he would of yours”, he added, looking at Elrond. With this recognition, the Valar wish to make it clear that this elf is he who will see the task through, and no other, it is their will and they wish not only to state it through me, but to show it directly to you or any that would oppose him, for there can be no doubts in anyone’s mind of his authority.”

“I am not sure I understand, replied Elrond. How will they show it?”

“That we do not know, said the maia”, looking at each of them in turn, willing them to give their opinion. “But what Galadriel says is true. The Valar have allowed us to witness the message, they have already involved us, and there is a reason for it.

“I can only hope that whatever it is, it does not irrevocably change him.” Began Glorfindel. “He will not shun this thing bestowed upon him, but he knows the price, for he already pays it as Prince of the Greenwood. How much more will he need to give as king? You have come to know him, Elrond, Erestor, all of you have to an extent. You have seen the playful, mischievous being hiding under the façade of pomp and protocol. That is who he is, that is his true nature, and he wishes not to lose it – I wish he doesn’t lose it.”

Mithrandir considered the warrior’s words then, and decided that this love Glorfindel held for Legolas was a very fortunate turn of events indeed.

…………………………………………………………

Afternoon gave way to dusk, as Glorfindel walked in the gardens in search of Legolas. He had passed by his rooms only to find them empty, and he was not in the front gardens, and so he headed towards the more solitary reaches of the grounds, near the warrior barracks.

Yet the barracks were silent, and Legolas was nowhere to be found. As he wound his way through the trees and bushes, he began to pick up the sounds of children, and he was reminded of the group they had come across, playing Forest Lord and then squealing in terror as they had seen the very elf approaching them.

He chuckled out loud, for he had been tickled by the event. Only this time, they were not squealing in terror, but in delight. Fastening his pace, he finally came across them, a group of six standing together, watching the solitary warrior in the glade. Yet they were so engrossed they were not aware of his approach until he had joined their close-knit circle.

One child jumped visibly as he realized that the figure standing next to him was very tall, definitely not a child. Looking up, he realized just who it was and smiled reverently, for Glorfindel was well loved by the citizens of Imladris, and one of the children’s heroes.

Yet Glorfindel felt the childish thought cross his mind, that they should be scared of him too. He almost wanted them to be for what it would imply, and then quickly changed his mind; it was simple arrogant pride that had possessed him momentarily, and he chuckled again.

They all turned back to watching the spectacle, and for the first time, Glorfindel realized what they were mesmerized by. For it was Legolas himself - he who had scared the living daylights out of these very children, who was working out, running through his personal training session with a long pole.

He was stripped to the waist, sweat pouring from his naked chest, long hair plastered to his head and shoulders. His moves were completely choreographed, for they obeyed a 2 to 4 beat, every one of which corresponded to a move or stance, jump or lunge. One, two, three, four, step, twirl, swivel, lunge, and so on. Every move was millimetric, perfectly timed and executed, every leap, twist and summersault.

He must have been training for a while, for the prince’s body heaved with the effort of velocity and strength, both explosive and sustained, and no one was more impressed than Melvenion, for this was the elf that he had been frightened of, this was the warrior who had saved his life, and that Melvenion could not even bring himself to look at. He had felt guilty then, had felt he would never be accepted in the warrior ranks, he had felt like a coward. Yet now, watching him train, and with Glorfindel by his side, he felt empowered, the desire to redeem himself coming to the fore. And so it was that as soon as the prince finished his routine, Melvenion picked a wild flower from the ground and ran over to the prince. He slowed his pace as he approached, just a little fear threatening to rear its head again. Yet he held the prince’s gaze, holding out his arm and showing him the small white flower he had picked.

A small distance away, his friends together with Glorfindel watched on, thinking how brave he was to approach this most intimidating and dangerous warrior.

Legolas stood tall, proud, watching as the child slowed his approach, wary yet bold, a blossom in his podgy hand, reaching out to redemption and friendship.

Legolas smiled then, for something had suddenly yet so very clearly slipped into place. This blossom was a token of friendship, a token of life – a show of the beauty of nature, its strength, its importance even in these small gestures, it was a token, a demonstration. He knew then, he knew what he should do, and he was plagued by uncertainty no more.

Reaching out his hand, he took the blossom, his eyes never leaving his new, young friend, as he reached back and poked it into this hair, kneeling before the awestruck child.

“You are brave, and courageous, young one, as is your father. You would count me as friend?” asked Legolas.

“I , I , yes, but – will you teach me the pike?”, he asked then with rounded eyes, for truth be told, he was intimidated, but he did want to do that with a stick too. Yet he truly wanted to call this warrior friend, for he knew no better fighter.

“When the time is right, I will help you. For now, I am contented to call you friend, Melvenion. May I call on you if I need you? He asked solemnly.

“Oh, yes, of course my lord.” And with that, he bowed low as his mother had taught him, and ran off to join his friends, beaming as they crowded him, asking for the details.

Glorfindel smiled indulgently as he walked passed them, bound for his beautiful prince.

“You worked up quite a sweat” he said rhetorically, ogling the magnificent body from head to foot.

Legolas simply smiled enigmatically, cocking his head in the direction of the house, walking off, and fully expecting to be followed.

……………………………………………………………

He was tired, very tired, for the day had taxed him. He needed to write a letter to his father which he would ask a hawk to deliver for him - he needed his consent, wanted it.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts as he bid the caller enter.

Galdithion and Henian popped their heads around the door, unsure as to whether the prince would be accompanied.

Seeing that he was alone, lounging on the bed, they hobbled in, closing the door behind them and sitting on the bed.

“You have been in the company of the lords all day, is all well? asked Galdithion, frowning as he asked the question.

Legolas sighed, wondering where on Arda he should start the telling of what had happened that day, for they would need to know.

Henian crossed his arms, albeit somewhat painfully, a sign he wanted an immediate answer.

“Alright, my friends, ‘tis not my intention to hide anything from you. I just need to – to collect my thoughts, for the day has been long, and difficult and I am tired, truth be told.

“We have all evening, my friend – come unburden yourself”, urged Henian, looking worriedly at Galdithion.

“I have received a sign – I am to reveal my identity forthwith, here in Imladris.”

The two friends sat dumbfounded before Galdithion finally spoke.

“Then the wait is over?”

“Almost, Gal. I must first compose my letter to the king…”

“Legolas, your father knew this could happen at any time, he even made you pack your ceremonial attire, just in case. Indeed I would not be surprised if he had already known this was to happen here in the valley.”

Legolas contemplated his friend then. It was true, his father had told him to take it, ‘just in case’ he had said nonchalantly.

“Perhaps, even so, I still need to formally request his leave, this you know.”

“Aye we know, and you also know that he will not defy the will of the Valar, he will consent and be proud of it, as will we”, he said.
……………………………………………………………..

Later that night, Legolas sat at the table in his room, tapping a quill against his forehead, a half-written parchment before him. Deciding that simplicity was his best bet, he continued with his letter.

Father
Great things have already been achieved here in Imladris, and many more will likely take place in the next few days. Reestablishing relations with the Noldor has proved to be most successful, and great friendships have been forged.

I will write again to give you the full details of the treaties you and I prepared together, but know that I have every confidence that we shall strike more than beneficial deals, both commercially and militarily.

Now, I must tell you the news I did not want to start this letter with, for you would have worried, and that is neither necessary, nor my intention. For you see, the time has come. I have received an unequivocal message from my lady – I am to reveal myself.

As fate would have it, the Lords Elrond, Glorfindel, Celeborn, Erestor, Mithrandir and the lady Galadriel were witness to the message, and I must tell you that the full of it has been discovered. You and I must talk of it as soon as circumstances allow, for I cannot put it to pen.

I know that you will not come, should not come, and I also know that I must need beg your leave to become that which the lady demands of me.

Know that I love you well, that I yearn for your company, and that I await your reply.

Your son,

C.P. Legolas
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The Protege IV: Lord of the Forests