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
- 25
- 26
- 27
Chapter 26 - Without Words

It had been four days since Legolas entered Fangorn forest, since he came upon the injured elleth. She had barely stirred these past few days, and he feared that the herbs were not working. Beechbone had found the herbs and plants that Legolas requested, but it took him most of a day to do it. By the time he was able to prepare them properly, the elleth had been paralyzed longer than she should have. He had given her the first dose, a bitter brown liquid, and within minutes, she became feverish. The poor elleth shook violently for the first few hours; sweat beading on her forehead, and her skin hot to the touch. After the initial shock of the herb fighting against the poison, her body began to adjust and the fever broke. It would return whenever the effects of the herb began to dissipate, and he would have to administer a fresh dose. By the next morning, the fever was gone completely, but she still had not awakened. Three days later and there was still no movement besides the rise and fall of her chest as she slowly breathed. Legolas continued to administer the medicine every few hours, by soaking a piece of cloth in the herbal broth and squeezing it into the corner of her mouth. Was he getting enough into her system? Was it strong enough? Only time would tell.
It turned out that the glade they were in, the place where Beechbone brought the elleth when he first encountered her, was his home. He allowed Legolas the use of it in any way he needed. Beechbone had gone off soon after delivering the herbs, called to a meeting by the other Ents. Legolas inquired about the meeting, but the tree herder did not know the reason.
In the meantime, Legolas took care of the unconscious elleth, made her medicine, hunted for his own meals, and made sure Arod was content.
Finally, on the fifth day, she began to stir, the first signs of movement in days. Legolas had just come back with a freshly caught rabbit, and she was moving her head from side to side. He dropped his bow and his catch, and immediately went to her, kneeling at her side. Her eyes fluttered and opened, focusing on Legolas. He stayed still and waited to see what state she was in. When she did not speak, Legolas started the conversation.
“How are you feeling, my lady?” he asked.
She struggled to sit up on her elbows and looked from side to side.
“You are in Fangorn Forest. I’ve been treating your wounds since Beechbone found you several days ago.”
At the mention of injury, the elleth touched her side and winced. She lifted her shirt and peeled back the leafy covering, looking appalled by the wound.
“It was much worse when I first found you,” Legolas continued, “Luckily I was in possession of a healing salve, which I needed for my own injuries. I used what I had left on the stab wound.”
She looked from her wound to Legolas, her eyes scanning his body for injury. She seemed concerned for him, but he smiled and assured her, “I did not need anymore, and you needed it worse.”
She closed her eyes a moment, trying to regain her memory. Legolas watched her closely, “What is your name?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out. She tried again and again, but not even a rasp emerged, and she started to panic, clutching at her throat.
“Your voice? Oh, your voice is gone. It’s probably from the effects of the poison. It was a paralyzing potion. I guess your vocal chords have not yet recovered.” At least he hoped so. It was possible that the damage was permanent, but he would not tell her that.
She coughed and tried to clear her throat, but nothing worked. She seemed frantic to speak, but Legolas did what he could to calm her, “It will be alright. Just give it some time. You have been asleep for five days. I’m sure it is just a matter of regaining your muscles.”
She suddenly seemed very adamant on standing up, and when she tried, her legs gave way and she fell back to her rooted bed. Legolas told her she shouldn’t try to move so soon, but she was desperate, her eyes wide and urgent.
Legolas lost the argument, and she was on her feet, using the tree as an anchor. The elleth swooned, lightheaded from lying down for so long. Legolas grabbed her arm, but she withdrew from him. She was determined to do this on her own.
“I’m only trying to help.” He looked around the forest and back to the elleth, “You have nothing to fear. We are under the protection of the trees. Those men are far from here by now. There have been no disturbances since.”
The elleth touched her hand to her side again. Obviously, the pain had not gone away even though the wound was on the mend. Legolas watched her and pointed to her side, “I see by your attire that you are from Lothlórien but what I don’t understand is why you are so far from your home. Why are you alone? How did you happen upon the Haradrim, and what did—”
The elleth smiled and reached out to lay her hand on his forearm to stop him. Then she touched her fingers to her lips. Legolas gave her a bashful smile, “I’m sorry. I know you can’t talk. It’s just … well, it’s been a very long time since I’ve talked to another elf, and here you can’t talk.”
She knitted her brows and tilted her head to the side in confusion. Her hand came up again, this time touching his ear as she tried to communicate.
Legolas understood, “Yes, I am an elf, but I grew up in Rohan after my home was destroyed. I haven’t seen another elf since I was very young.”
An odd look of shock and discovery crossed her countenance, and Legolas felt she sensed something, “What is it?”
She shook her head, but the expression did not leave her face. Then she gestured to her uniform and the pin she wore upon her cloak, a leaf of Lorien. The elleth touched the collar of his tunic in question.
“Oh, my clothes, I’m sure they are not recognizable. I was born in Mirkwood, before the burning. I am the last wood elf,” he said solemnly.
The elleth gasped and took a step back. Her reaction was nothing to ignore, and Legolas wondered why she reacted as she did. “Did you not know that someone survived the burning?”
She shook her head from side to side, this time forcing herself to look away from him. Now it made sense, the reason for her bewilderment.
“I was hoping you had known of others who survived,” he said disappointedly.
The elleth seemed to force herself to look at him again, this time studying his features. She made a gesture with her hands, but he didn’t understand her. When she wasn’t getting through to him, she looked around her, until she found what she was looking for, a patch of dirt. She picked up a twig and started scribbling in the sand. Legolas watched her write a name.
“Calariel,” he read, “Is that your name?”
She nodded and Legolas smiled. Then she pointed to him, and he bowed slightly as he gave his name, “I am Legolas.”
Her eyes went wide, but she tried desperately not to seem surprised. Legolas wondered why. “Do you know my name?” he finally asked.
She hesitated before answering and shook her head, but would not meet his eyes. She was behaving rather peculiarly. Before he could inquire, she changed her behavior with a smile and softening eyes, and made a gesture as if to drink.
“Oh, you’re thirsty. Of course you are. I have some water in a basin over here. I’ll bring you some. Please, sit back down. You must be very weak.”
She did as he asked, and sat on one of the large roots that had been her bed for the past few days. Legolas walked over to a large bowl filled with fresh spring water, dipped a wooden cup, and withdrew a fair amount. As he turned to Calariel, he caught her staring at him again, but she looked away quickly. She acted as though she had seen him before, but that was impossible. Perhaps he only looked like someone she had once known. Now was not the time to pressure her. Legolas decided to wait until her voice returned, and then he would ask her more about it. What was important now was seeing that she recovered.
* * *
A few more days went by, and Legolas got to know a little more about Calariel. She was a sentry, a border guard for the Galadhrim. A group of orcs came close to Lothlórien’s boundary. The elleth and her partner followed the fleeing orcs. That was when they came upon the Haradrim men. Calariel sent her partner back to camp to inform the others of their discovery while she decided to follow the group of men, and see where they were heading. The Haradrim caught sight of her and captured her. She went along with them for a while, hoping to discover more of their plans, and hoping that her fellow Galadhrim would find her. When it seemed rescue was not an option, Calariel took matters into her own hands and tried to escape. That’s when she was injured and struck with the paralyzing poison. Luckily, she managed to make for Fangorn and safety within the forest. A couple of the men chased after her, but never made it past the wooded border. The trees took care of them.
Legolas hunted for their meals and prepared more of his herbed concoction for the treatment of her afflictions. Beechbone had not returned yet, and he did not know when he would. He started to wonder what he should do. He hadn’t meant to stay in the woods for so long. He still needed to find Eomer or go to the Fords of Isen and seek out Théodred, but coming across Calariel had changed his plans.
She had improved significantly, besides her voice not returning, and he began to wonder if it was permanent. Legolas worked with her every day, trying to get her to speak, just as he was trying to do now.
“Alright, try again, and this time make an effort,” he demanded.
Calariel silently cleared her throat and opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Legolas narrowed his eyes at her, “You are not even trying. You are not holding out on me are you?”
Calariel took offense to that, stomped her foot and turned from him. He reached out and touched her shoulder, “I’m sorry, but I can’t understand how everything has healed except for your voice. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t want to speak to me for some reason. That’s not it, is it?”
This time, Calariel regarded Legolas with the slits of her eyes, but Legolas saw a bit of something cross her face; guilt was it? Had she actually been pretending that she had no voice? And if so, why? He let the matter go when she walked away from him. Legolas decided not to pursue the matter, and instead, prepared the evening meal. They avoided each other, and later ate in companionable silence. When they were through, they stayed by the fire. Legolas was poking at the embers with a stick, trying to figure out what to do. A few times, when he looked up, he found Calariel watching him intently, averting her eyes as soon as he raised his head in her direction. He decided to ask her about something that happened when he first found her.
“It was a peculiar thing that we both came upon Fangorn when we did, don’t you think?” he asked, and she nodded as she cleaned the meat from one of the bones.
“I mean, Beechbone would not have known what to do for you. You might have suffered greatly and died.”
Calariel looked at him with sincerity, and placed her hand over her heart, bowing her head in a sign of respect, and in this case, gratitude.
Legolas smiled back and blushed a bit before he went on, “I don’t suppose you’d remember, but you said something to me that had me confused, and I was just wondering. You looked me straight in the eyes and in Quenya, referred to me as prince, and then you called me heir. Do you remember?”
Calariel sat unmoving, her breath stopping as she looked at Legolas. Then she slowly continued chewing and dropped her eyes to her lap, shaking her head. Legolas could see that she was hiding something from him, but he did not call her out on it. Instead, he laughed, “You also called me a sand-dwelling bastard in Westron.”
Calariel smiled, but still wouldn’t look at him directly. Instead, she rolled her eyes up, stuck out her tongue and grasped her throat with her hands.
“Yes, I know you were under the influence of the poison. I just wondered who you thought I was, for it is a fact that we have never met before, and I am rather sure that I am not an heir. My father was a guard to the King of Mirkwood, at least I think he was. I was very young when it happened, but I remember him fighting with sword in hand, trying to keep the orcs from entering the royal chamber. I expect the King would have gone by that time, but unfortunately he did not make it out alive.” Legolas stared into the fire, tossing his stick into the flames, “He was a great warrior, my father. Tharan was his name. Funny, but I didn’t know that until my uncle told me. He was always father to me. Like I said, I was very young.”
Calariel moved next to Legolas, and laid a hand on his arm. She looked as though she wished to comfort him, as if she needed to say something, but she could not. The moment passed, and she picked up a small twig and wrote in the ashes at the edge of the campfire, “Rohan.”
Legolas released the thoughts of his father and brought his attention back to her, “Yes, Rohan is my home now … or it was … well, I’m not sure anymore. I was forced into a bit of a situation, which is why I am here and not in Rohan. My brother’s will need me though. I’m not sure how much longer I can stay here in Fangorn.”
“Brothers?” Calariel scribbled in the ashes.
“Adoptive brothers I should say. I was brought to Rohan when I was an elfling, taken in by King Théoden and raised in his house under his command. His son, Théodred and his sister son, Eomer are like brothers to me, so much so that sometimes I forget. The King, though, Théoden is in trouble, and Théo, Eomer and I are the only ones who can help. Dark days have fallen upon Rohan.”
Calariel nodded in agreement. Dark days had fallen upon most of Middle-earth. “Where are your brothers?” she wrote.
“Eomer rides across the plains with his men, destroying any orcs who walk freely across the Riddermark. Théodred is with his men defending the Fords of Isen where the orcs originate from.”
“Isengard?” Calariel wrote in the earth. She looked very concerned by this information.
Legolas sighed, “I’m afraid Saruman fights for the side of evil now. He has been breeding an orc army and will attack Rohan, but I do not know when. This is why I cannot stay here much longer. Théo and Eomer will be wondering where I am. They need me to help them fight.”
Calariel was about to write something else, when there was a commotion across the glade, and the trees parted. To her astonishment, a very tall tree being entered the area and approached them.
“Legolas, you must come right away. There is something happening— Oh my,” Beechbone interrupted himself, “You are alive, I see. Very good. Very good.”
Legolas jumped up and addressed the Ent, “Calariel, this is Beechbone. You have him to thank. He found you upon entering the woods, and brought you to his home.”
Calariel was astonished, but stood and bowed to the tree herder. Legolas continued, “She has recovered from her wounds, but she has not regained her voice yet. I am sure it will return soon though.”
“Oh, what an awful thing to be without,” said Beechbone as he looked her over carefully, “I hadn’t noticed before, but I see you are one of Lothlórien’s elves. I have always wanted to visit the Golden Wood, but unfortunately I am bound by duty to remain here.”
“Beechbone,” Legolas interrupted, “You said you needed me to go with you?”
“Oh my, yes, I had almost forgotten why I came. Yes, yes … there is a disturbance near the edge of the forest. I would not bother you, but I believe I may have found the people you are looking for. Golden haired men on horseback with spears and swords … are those your people?”
“The Rohirrim, they are here?” Legolas asked anxiously, “Did they come looking for me?”
“I’m afraid I could not ask, since they were engaged in battle with a group of nasty orcs. Should I go back and—”
“No, I’ll go. You stay here with Calariel,” answered Legolas. He grabbed his bow, quiver and knives, and gave a loud whistle, Arod came quickly, but he was unsaddled. Legolas shook his head, “I haven’t the time. You’ll just have to carry me bareback,” he said to his horse. With the grace of the elves, he leapt onto Arod’s back, clutching a handful of gray mane for support. Arod seemed anxious to leave. He must have sensed the Rohirric horses close by. Legolas turned his steed and gazed down at Calariel, “I cannot say how long I will be gone, but you should not venture from Fangorn until I return. With your voice gone, you cannot call for help. I promise to come back, though. Beechbone will keep you company, and I will return as soon as I can.”
Calariel nodded and watched awestruck as Legolas charged off in the direction Beechbone had told him to go, weapons at the ready, gilded hair flowing out behind him, cloak whipping in the wind. She had her suspicions as to Legolas’ real identity, but she could not be sure. Seeing him now as he gallantly rode off to join his men, Calariel started to believe her assumptions were correct. “Not a prince … my arse. There’s one way to be sure,” she whispered.
Beechbone gasped, “Your voice, it has returned. Oh, and Legolas has just left. He would be delighted to know you can speak again.”
Calariel mocked surprise and cleared her throat, “Well, what do you know? I can speak. It must be all the excitement. It loosened the vocal cords.” She looked up into the face of the Ent, “So tell me, Beechbone, what is the quickest way back to Lothlórien?”
“Oh, I do not think that is such a good idea. Legolas seemed to think you should stay put until he returns.”
Calariel gave one of her most charming smiles, “Yes, but I too have people anxious to know where I am. I truly believe I am fine now, and there is no telling how long Legolas will be gone. I must get back to Lothlórien, and tell them what I have learned of Rohan and impending war. My people may be able to help in some way.”
“Well, if you are sure then . . .” Beechbone proceeded to tell Calariel how to navigate the forest and be on her way.
* * *
Legolas could hear them before he saw them. Swords clashing, men shouting, orcs crying out, he was sure it was Eomer this time. He burst through the edge of the tree line and entered the chaos of battle. The stench of orc blood mixed with the overpowering scent of fresh pinesap and smoke. Orcs were running from the men on horses, obviously surprised by the attack. One orc ran towards Legolas, heading for the trees. The elf released a long knife from its sheath and decapitated the escaping fiend.
Some of the orcs fought back, but they were outnumbered by the Rohirric troops. Legolas joined the scene, keeping an eye out for Eomer. He recognized the men as being those of his friend’s battalion. They were busy with battle and did not notice him as he moved along through the dark, slaying orcs. Then, Legolas heard a familiar horse cry and looked up to see Firefoot rearing on his hind legs, a huge Uruk Hai swinging his blade at the horse. Legolas fired double arrows at the creature, hitting his target in the head and neck. Firefoot came down on all four legs, and a stunned Eomer looked closely at the fletching of the arrows. He instantly began searching the area until he saw Legolas. The elf rode to his friend.
“Just like always, I’m saving your hairy arse again,” Legolas jostled.
Eomer’s mouth dropped in surprise, “As I live and breathe … Legolas, how did you come to be here?”
“It’s a long story.”
Eomer’s face switched from shock to concern, “And one I’m sure I will want to know, but first, let’s rid ourselves of this nuisance.”
Legolas and Eomer joined the other men and fought the orcs until none was left alive. Eomer gave orders to pile the dead and burn their bodies and any of their belongings. The sun was just beginning to rise by the time they were finished with their duties, and Legolas was finally able to speak with Eomer.
He told him about Gríma and the horse ring, about the sinister voice emanating from Théoden. Legolas then told him about the arrest warrants for Eomer and Théodred, but word had already reached Eomer, and he assumed Théo too. Then, Legolas told him about Róta and the terrible things that led up to his imprisonment as well as the accusations of rape. Eomer was impressed with Eowyn’s involvement in setting Legolas free, though he rather wished she hadn’t. Now he worried for her, especially since Legolas was gone, and there was no one to watch over her.
“Believe me, she can handle herself quite well,” said Legolas, trying to ease his friend’s mind.
“So what did you do? Where did you go after leaving Edoras?” Eomer asked.
“Well, I was chased by some of Gríma’s men, but I managed to escape. I was originally going to see Théo, but went farther than I’d meant to, and ended up close to Fangorn. That’s when I came upon a group of Haradrim, and they—”
“Harad, what are they doing in these parts?” Eomer interrupted.
“I do not know, but they were traveling towards Isengard. I think Saruman has recruited more than just orcs to complete his army.” Legolas stopped and turned towards the forest, “I will have to go back,” he said, “Eomer, I came upon another elf, a female from Lothlórien. She’d been captured by the Haradrim, but escaped just before I encountered them. She was injured, but I managed to help her recover. I told her I would be back for her.”
“Legolas, there is no time for that now. Word reached us of Théodred’s plea for more troops. I could not spare any of my men, but sent the messenger on to Edoras, and summoned Elfhelm and as many men as he could gather. We have been making our way to the Fords, but we’ve been tested time and time again as we’ve come upon smaller orc armies. I only pray that Elfhelm has made it by now, and that our actions have helped to clear a path for him. As soon as we’ve burned the bodies, and buried our dead, we are riding on to the River Isen … with or without you.”
Legolas looked back at the forest; the pull of the trees and the elleth were very strong. He promised he would return, but his duty lay with Rohan. Calariel was with Beechbone, though, and she was mending quickly except for her voice. She was a soldier, he knew, and could take care of herself, but he had promised. The decision weighed upon him, but in the end, he had to remain loyal to Rohan. With a heavy heart, Legolas turned back to Eomer, “To the Fords, then. Théodred calls for his men. Let’s finish here, and be on our way.”
- 25
- 26
- 27
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Last Wood Elf