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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
- 36
- 37
- 38
Chapter 37 – A Bad Time To Be A Wood Elf

It was yet another night on the road to Lothlórien. Legolas and Calariel moved at an easy pace, neither one in much of a hurry to return. They had kept their conversations casual and friendly, as each elf seemed cocooned in their private thoughts most of the time. Legolas was concerned about his acceptance into Lothlórien, especially after all that happened before. Lord Celeborn was his main issue since he would need his and Lady Galadriel’s approval to aid him in reclaiming Mirkwood. How was he going to accomplish this when Celeborn held such animosity against him? And what would he do if the Lord and Lady of Galadhon refused to help? Perhaps it would be beneficial to become acquainted with the Noldor of Lórien, and earn their trust before asking for an army, but Legolas was worried about time. Even now, he could feel a change in the air, and knew that Mordor was strengthening its forces. He had a feeling that Gondor would be their next target, for Rohan was too small compared to Minas Tirith. Sauron would look for greater numbers of people to destroy rather than revenge upon Rohan. Would Théoden ride with his army to Gondor? If they did, then Legolas could not call on his adopted home to help him fight against the evil in Mirkwood. And besides, how would he fight against an enemy that occupied a forest as large as the Rhovanion?
“This rain is not going to let up any time soon,” Calariel called to Legolas. He had ridden ahead of her while his mind was preoccupied.
It had started as a misty rain in the late afternoon, and the elves decided to keep moving, hoping that it would not last. But the light rain was giving way to a potential downpour.
“I think your right. We need to find shelter and stop for the night. No use making ourselves miserable,” he answered. Legolas was already miserable enough with thoughts of going to Celeborn and asking for help.
“I think I saw something back this way,” Calariel said, and they turned their horses in the direction that she led them.
They found a cave with an entrance tall and wide enough to tether the horses just inside, and deep enough to give the elves shelter for the night. Legolas checked the cave, finding it free of animals, and untied their packs. Calariel gathered what little dry wood there was, and started making a small fire, enough to knock the chill from their skin. Once they were settled, they sat side by side on the cave floor, holding the palms of their hands open to the flame. They were quiet for a long time, and Calariel seemed a bit unnerved. Legolas asked her what bothered her.
“It’s nothing really. I’m just not too keen on caves or anywhere underground,” she answered.
Legolas laughed, “There’s nothing here to harm us. The cave goes back a ways, but I could see no way anyone could get in here unless they are smaller than a rabbit.”
“I’m not worried about that. I just don’t like being enclosed like this. I would rather be in the safety of the trees rather than entombed by the earth.”
“Well, I would have to agree with you. I too prefer the trees to being underground,” he said as he took some dried meat from his pack and gave a piece to Calariel.
“But you are from Mirkwood. Your home was underground,” she said.
“It was not a dark and musty cave like the ones you are thinking of,” he explained. “It was a city carved beneath a hill, with tall columns of stone and open spaces. It was a generous cave system with numerous passages and grand halls.” He stopped and took a bite of meat.
“What else do you remember about Mirkwood?” Calariel asked.
He thought about her question a moment before answering, “Well, don’t remember much, but I remember the council chamber. Often times I would go there to be with my father when he was not away on some mission. He was gone a lot, which then I thought was because he was a captain of the army. Elhadron would take me there, and always the first thing I saw upon entering the grand room was my father’s smiling face. I would run to him, and he would pick me up and spin me around. Then he would encompass me in his arms and tell me how much he missed me. Those were the best times of all.”
“That’s how I imagined King Thranduil to be when he was not involved in politics,” she said.
They grew silent again, as they ate their light meal and drank the cool fresh rainwater. Then Legolas grew curious, “Do you know anything more about my mother and father? I know you told me some of their story, but I would gather as much as I can, and if there is anything you remember, I would gladly hear of it.”
“I really don’t know much besides what I have heard through stories,” she said regrettably.
“I have heard the story of Erebor and how my father turned from the dwarf mountain, but I can’t fathom the reason why he would have done it. All who have spoken of it make him sound as though he thought himself superior to all others, and that he cared naught about the dwarves or the people of Dale who suffered the fiery onslaught of Smaug. All I keep thinking about is my vision of his last stand against the invading orcs and everything that led up to that point. The elf I remember would never have marched to battle only to turn and leave the helpless to die.”
“I don’t know why anyone would turn away,” Calariel admitted, “But I’m sure he had good reason. He could not have known about the destruction, for he arrived as it was happening. Smaug appeared swiftly and suddenly with no warning. Everyone was caught completely by surprise. I think it was coincidence that Thranduil arrived when he did. Perhaps he knew he was no match for the dragon and would not risk the lives of his men, especially if they were ill-prepared.”
“Why was he in Erebor to begin with?” Legolas asked.
“Most likely, to do trade with the dwarves. Thranduil went there often,” Calariel answered. “From what I know, he had a love of gems and rare stones. The Dwarves of Erebor owned some of the most unusual and extraordinary jewels of Middle-earth. Thranduil prided himself on his bartering abilities, and thus used these skills to build his collection of rarities.”
Legolas seemed befuddled, “I hadn’t known that. I don’t remember ever having seen him adorned with such finery.”
“So it could have been that he was off on one of his trade missions when he came upon the dragon. As I said, he would have been unprepared to fight against one such as Smaug.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Legolas said, though he felt part of the story was still missing. Something had been left out, and he wondered if Celeborn could shed some light on the rest of his father’s tale.
Calariel sensed his disappointment, “I’m sorry I don’t know more.”
“It’s alright. I suppose I’ll learn more somehow. I already know more than I did before,” he smiled warmly, but his mind was still occupied.
Calariel sat next to Legolas, listening to the crackling fire and feeling Legolas’ worry about returning to Lothlórien. He would soon be up against an almost impossible task. “You know there will be those of us who will join your cause.”
Legolas continued staring into the fire as he nodded, “Yes, but thirty elves against an unknown number of fell things will not be enough.”
Calariel sighed, “There is a lot to be done before we can even think about stepping foot into Mirkwood. First, we will muster an army.”
Legolas stole a glance at her, watching how her eyes danced with excitement and determination. She was very different from the other Noldor. A fire burned within her that he did not perceive from others of her heritage.
Calariel’s mind was generating visions of a Galadhrim army large enough to invade the Rhovanion. There would be a way, she was sure of it. “Mirkwood must be taken back by the elves. The balance of power has been uneven for far too long. There was always three strong elven realms, and there shall be three again. Only then will the evil powers of this world begin to wane.” She stopped and smiled, as she resolved the puzzle. “That’s it. That’s what Saruman was trying to accomplish. He didn’t just want control over Rohan. He wanted complete control over everything, even Sauron. The elven realms were already unbalanced with the destruction of Mirkwood. All that was left was to throw off the human kingdoms. Gondor was too big and powerful, so he used Rohan instead. It also explains why Gríma wanted you slain. You are the only one who can restore power to Mirkwood. You are its only heir, and you shall be king of the Woodland realm.”
At the mention of Gríma’s name, Legolas folded his arms and bent his head low, as if he was cocooning himself from something terrible. Calariel felt his reserve and she knew what caused it. She had felt his struggle at the foot of Orthanc, when Legolas held his bow ready, ignoring the advice of certain members of the company. She wanted to ask him about it, but she waited for Legolas to decide to open up. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Have you ever killed when it was not a matter of self-defense?” he asked.
“Anyone I have ever killed died because they wanted to see me dead first,” she answered, “But I know what you speak of. I felt your hatred for the man. I saw the dark shadow of revenge glaze over your eyes. It guided you for an instant, didn’t it?”
Legolas nodded, “All I wanted in that moment was to bury my arrow deep within his black heart for the sake of all that I’d lost… for Mirkwood and my father, for Elhadron, for Théodred, even for Lúta and her father, and all who perished at Helm’s Deep.”
“As I told you then, it is not the way of the elves. Though Gríma had a hand in some of the things you’ve mentioned, he never directly attacked you. Gríma himself was being used, just as you were. You became a weapon in someone else’s armory. It was your deep elvish roots that unsteadied your hand, for you knew it was not our way, and you could not kill Gríma. Just as revenge guided your hand to draw your arrow, your sense for what is right and just blinded you from your target. You should not doubt yourself.”
He knew she was right for he’d felt exactly what she had just explained. Legolas relaxed his arms and bent his head to the side so he could look upon Calariel. She was not what he expected to find, especially in Lothlórien. “I’m glad you are not like the others,” he smiled.
She smiled in return, “I’m glad you’re not either.”
* * *
“We’ve been expecting you, Calariel, but not the company that you keep,” said Arato, one of the gate guards, and Calariel’s nemesis. They had always fought for top placement and high scores during their training years. Arato had also started gossip about Calariel’s relationship with Haldir, and how coincidental it was that she had moved through the ranks to border guard so easily.
Now, Calariel glared at Arato, as they made to pass through the entrance of Galadhon. “He is welcome here,” she said evenly.
“Not by everyone,” Arato glowered as he turned an accusatory eye on Legolas. Then he regarded Calariel again, “I suggest you go straight to your father.”
“What of Rúmil and the others? Did they make a safe return?” Calariel asked.
Arato looked down his nose at the pair, “They are here.”
Legolas was relieved to hear that. He had no reason to think they would be delayed, but one could never tell when something bad might happen, especially in these dark days.
The two elves passed through the gate, following the paths that led to the drop ladders. When Legolas had come here the first time, he’d been escorted directly to the Lord and Lady. He had taken the long winding staircase that encompassed the bole of the huge mallorn tree where their private audience chamber was. Calariel was leading him by a different way.
“Aren’t we going to see the Lord and Lady?” he asked.
“Not just yet. Unfortunately, Arato was right about going to my father first. No doubt he will be furious with me. Besides, I think you should wait until your presence is known, and since Arato was on duty today, it won’t take long for word to reach Galadriel’s ear.” As she explained, she signaled with a wave to an elf high up on a platform, who kicked a rope ladder over the edge. As it came down, it unrolled like a lizard’s tongue. Legolas already felt like he was the prey, and was a bit unsettled by the visual.
They climbed the ladder and navigated a few suspended bridges, saying little to each other as they went, when someone called from behind.
“Calariel,” he said anxiously, and she turned to find her father.
Legolas had given much thought to his first meeting with Túrdir, but he hadn’t expected to see someone as intimidating as this very tall, broad, silver-haired Noldo. Legolas swallowed a nervous lump that developed in his throat. Túrdir exhibited the superiority and wisdom of one that had survived long years of challenges. He would not be easy to deal with.
Calariel approached her father, and he took her hands in his. “Are you well?” he asked.
“Yes father, no harm has come to me.” she started, but yes was enough for Túrdir.
The Noldo captain looked past his daughter’s shoulder and saw Legolas standing on the suspended pathway. He gently pushed Calariel to the side and stormed towards the young Prince. Legolas suddenly had a flashing memory of the Beorning bear that charged him, and almost took his head with one bite. He had only been an elfling then, but he stood his ground. Legolas found himself taking the same stance with the angry Noldo, though he was certain he would not lose his head this time.
Túrdir was only slightly surprised that Legolas not so much as flinched, but it did nothing to curb his anger. He stopped directly in front of Legolas and glared at him. “You… stay away… from… my daughter,” he commanded in a low yet threatening voice.
“Ada!” Calariel shouted, surprised by her father’s outrageous behavior.
“Stay out of this!” Túrdir yelled back.
“He had nothing to do with my leaving. I went on my own accord,” she argued.
Legolas never dropped his eyes from Túrdir, but he regarded him with utmost respect. “It is true. I tried to dissuade her, as well as the others from coming with me.”
“You did not try hard enough,” said Túrdir. “I suggest that you go now, take care of whatever business it is that you have, and leave Calariel alone.”
“Ada!” she yelled again.
“No, Calariel! I’ll not have you gallivanting wherever you please with this… this uncivilized wood elf.”
“Gallivanting?” she retaliated. “What exactly do you think went on?”
“I’d rather not know,” her father mumbled. He set his eyes on Legolas once more, “You forget about Calariel. I don’t know what you have planned, but she will not be a part of it. I’ll not have her risk her life for some unattainable cause. Mirkwood is destroyed. It’s been overtaken by darkness for too long. It is folly to ask Lothlórien for aid. You’ll only get our people killed with your rash behavior. I’ve seen what your kind is like, not caring for anyone but themselves. Go, Thranduil’s son, and leave my family out of your business. Perhaps if your father had done that, your mother would still be alive.” Without giving Legolas an opportunity to respond, Túrdir turned on his heal and walked back to Calariel. He took her arm. “You’ll come home with me… now.”
Calariel pulled her arm from his grip, taking Túrdir by surprise. “No, Ada, I’ll not go with you. Legolas and I have important business with the Lord and Lady.”
“Your business with him is finished,” Túrdir argued.
Legolas took a step forward, “Sir, if you’ll let me explain—”
“I have nothing else to say to you,” Túrdir interrupted. “Go now or I’ll have you escorted by the guards.”
Calariel moved so that she stood between the two elves. She looked at Legolas pleadingly, “Go on, and I’ll catch up to you.”
Legolas looked from Calariel to Túrdir, one asking him to leave and the other demanding it. He bowed and walked away, hoping Calariel wouldn’t be too long, for he did not know his way around the tree city.
When he was out of earshot, Calariel rounded on her father. “You should not treat him like that. He did nothing wrong.”
“Coming to Lothlórien was his mistake. We don’t want him here, and I’ll not have you associating with someone like him.”
“You don’t even know him. How can you make such assumptions? And why are you so hostile towards him?”
“He is not like us. He is of the same blood as the Teleri, those who ignored the Valar’s call of homecoming. They do not walk in the Light as we do. They walk in the Twilight, and therefore are less wise and overly impetuous.”
Calariel glared at her father, “Is that the real reason, or is it because he is the son of Thranduil?”
Túrdir narrowed his eyes as he towered above his daughter, “What would you know of Thranduil?”
Calariel squared her shoulders and gave him a pugnacious look, “I know that even now that he is dead, you still have ill feelings towards him.”
“You know not of what you speak,” he countered.
“And how does mother feel about this, to know that her husband still harbors feelings for Mirkwood’s dead queen?” Calariel was pushing the limit with her father, but she’d had enough.
“Hold your tongue, child!” Túrdir said through clenched teeth.
Calariel would not listen. “You think that just because Legolas is Thranduil’s son he thinks and acts like him, but you couldn’t be farther from the truth. You are judging him by his bloodline. Well, Ada, if you are going to do that, then you must take into account that Almárëa’s blood also flows through his veins. She was Noldor just as you and I are, and that means Legolas is half-Noldo too. Will you dismiss that fact?” Without waiting for his response, Calariel started to walk away from her father.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he called after her.
“I’m taking Legolas to see the Lord and Lady, and if they approve his request, I will be the first to volunteer my skills for his cause.”
Túrdir caught up to her in one long stride, and reached for her hand to stop her, “Wait, and hear me out first.”
Calariel stopped, but she remained with her back turned as she listened to her father speak. “I am sorry to be so strict, but you must understand how it rips at my heart to know that you might abandon your home, just as Almárëa once did. It has opened old wounds that I just assumed had never been seen. I never meant for you to know about any of this, but then, I guess I did not hide it so well.”
Calariel could hear the sadness in her father’s tone. She looked over her shoulder as she spoke. “I am not Almárëa, and though I might care for Legolas, I am not running away to marry him.” She finally turned to him, her eyes softening as she regarded him. “He is the only survivor of an entire realm. Not only that, but he is the rightful heir to that land. Mirkwood was destroyed because Lothlórien did not act quickly enough. We owe it to Legolas to help him reclaim his home so that it can be rebuilt.”
“Mirkwood brought destruction upon itself because of the greed of its King,” Túrdir explained. “There was a reason why Thranduil buried himself beneath that hill and closed him and his people off from the rest of the world. He was a collector of fine things. He owned some of the rarest stones and jewels of Middle-earth. But his greed did not stop there. Through his arrogance and persistence, he gained the attention of Almárëa. He did not care that she had promised herself to me. The stories you hear will romanticize them, but the truth is, Almárëa was just another jewel to add to his collection. And that kind of avarice will only attract evil.”
“You don’t actually believe that, do you? If she was meant to be with you, she never would have let Thranduil persuade her into running away and leave everything behind. And if you loved her as you say you did, why didn’t you fight harder to keep her?” Calariel paused to think about what she had said, shaking her head disappointedly. “I can’t believe I am having this conversation. Do you know how it hurts me to know all of this, to know you still care for her when you have a devoted wife and a loving daughter who have never questioned their feelings for you? Thranduil and Almárëa made their choice because they were deeply in love, and Legolas was the result of that… just as you opened your heart again, and I am the result of the love you and Mother now share. So let me ask you this? If you could go back and change the past, would you… knowing what you know now?”
Túrdir’s eyes misted over, and he embraced his daughter, “Of course not, Calariel. You and your mother are the most important things in my life. And this is why I ask you to consider my advice and stay within the protection of Lothlórien, for my heart would break a thousand times more painfully if ever I lost you.”
Calariel peeled herself gently from her father’s arms. “I could tell you yes, that I will consider it, but it would be a lie, for I have already chosen. I want to see Mirkwood put back into the hands of the elves. I want to see balance restored to our elvish communities. Before all of this, it had been the power of three… Lothlórien, Rivendell and Mirkwood. It must be that way again, and stay that way until the last elf of each realm sails to the Undying Lands.”
Túrdir reached for a tendril of Calariel’s hair, letting it fall from his fingers. He gave a defeated sigh. “Why is it that I can’t ever hold sway over the women that I love. Go then, and take my blessings with you. May the Valar watch over you and keep you out of harm’s way.”
Calariel gave him a somber smile knowing she was going against his wishes. “You know, if all goes as planned, the army will need captains,” she suggested.
Túrdir turned his eyes away from her, “No, my daughter. I’m afraid this is not my fight, not this time.”
* * *
He was lost, of course. He’d followed the wider walkways just like Calariel had told him, but he’d come to a cross section where both paths were the same width. Left, right or straight, Legolas contemplated. Right felt familiar so he chose it, and ended up in another area of flets. At least if he could find the dining hall he’d have a better idea of where he was.
He stood considering the round houses before him, and wished Calariel had come sooner. Maybe he should knock on someone’s door and ask for directions. As he thought this, he heard voices coming from one of the homes whose door was cracked open. Out walked three Galadhrim soldiers, all with the same platinum color hair, worn long and straight, and braided at the sides. They really did look like brothers, Legolas noted.
Rúmil smiled upon seeing Legolas. Haldir gave him a stern yet affable eye. Orophin was as emotionless as he was their first meeting in the forest.
“We’d heard you had arrived,” Rúmil greeted. “It is good to see you again. I trust everything went well in Isengard?”
“As well as could be expected,” Legolas answered, thinking of a now dead Saruman and Gríma. “There will be no more trouble from that place.”
“And Calariel,” Haldir inquired, “she is well?”
Legolas heard the hesitation in Haldir’s voice, and understood a little better why the marchwarden still harbored feelings for her. She was unlike any other elf. “Yes, she is quite well, and explaining herself to her father at this moment… which is why I am lost in your city again.”
Rúmil laughed, “You’d make a terrible scout.”
“In Lothlórien, perhaps,” Legolas chortled.
“You’ll be wanting to see the Lord and Lady I presume?” Haldir asked.
“Yes, I have things to discuss with them,” Legolas answered. The brothers would already know what those things were.
“It will be difficult to persuade them, though Lady Galadriel will be more willing to hear you out,” said Orophin.
“Come,” said Haldir, “I’ll take you there, if you are ready.”
“I’ve been ready for a very long time,” Legolas said quietly.
Rúmil and Orophin went their own way, while Haldir escorted Legolas to the private audience chamber of Celeborn and Galadriel. This was a different place than the one Legolas had originally met them. The flet was small, more personal and less threatening, as there seemed to be more of a female influence in the room. The wide windows let in more air and made it seem open and inviting. Legolas hoped that this was a good sign.
Haldir stopped outside of the door, which stood open, and motioned for Legolas to enter. “They know you are here and will be with you shortly.”
Legolas bowed, “Thank you.”
Haldir nodded, but he stood still a moment, as though he was not through. “I cannot help you without permission, but if the Lord and Lady decide to grant you what you want, you’ll have my full support.”
“I appreciate that, and I can think of no one else that I’d rather have fighting by my side,” Legolas said politely. Then he entered the room to wait for his counsel.
Not long after, Lord Celeborn came, dressed in his long cream colored robes, his hair neatly braided, and the crease between his brows set much deeper than Legolas had remembered. The Prince bowed with hand over heart, slowly and deliberately, showing the Noldo lord his utmost respect.
“Please, have a seat,” said Celeborn, as Legolas stood from his bow. He took a seat in the chair by a white oak writing desk, expecting Celeborn to sit behind it. Instead, the lord of Lórien stood in front of a bookshelf, his finger traveling across the many book spines that were neatly lined up. With his back turned, he spoke to his guest. “Word reached us that Rohan was successful in defeating the enemy. It is but one small victory though. Sauron will want retribution for his loss.”
“King Théoden knows this. He has been counseled by Gandalf, who assists him in these coming days,” Legolas said. He was not sure where Celeborn was going with this conversation, but it would certainly lead to a disagreement.
“It is my understanding that our granddaughter’s beloved also stays with the Rohirrim, and has been quite successful himself.”
“You speak of Aragorn I assume. He played an important part in the battle, and I am honored to call him a friend.”
“Yes,” Celeborn said as he turned to face Legolas. “I noticed how quickly you seem to make friends and gain their support.”
Legolas knew he was referring to the sudden disappearance of Calariel, Rúmil and the thirty elves that followed him to Helm’s Deep. “I did not ask them to come.”
“That has been made quite clear to me.” Celeborn abandoned the bookshelf and came to stand next to Legolas. The Prince couldn’t help but feel forced into a submissive stance, as he sat next to the tall Noldo. Celeborn had put a hand on Legolas’ shoulder, confirming his thoughts of this. The elf lord was demonstrating his power and position. “You seem to have divided our community, Legolas. Not everyone agrees with my choice not to send aid to the Rohirrim.”
It must have been a much larger number of elves than the small company that came with him to Helm’s Deep, or Celeborn would not have brought it up. “Are the elves within Lothlórien not free to make their own decisions?” Legolas asked.
Celeborn ignored Legolas and continued, “Your father was disruptive as well, when he came to Lothlórien. Your mother was not the only one to leave the Golden Woods. There were those who chose to relocate to the Rhovanion. Unfortunately, their fates were sealed along with the rest of your kinsmen.”
“Hmm, they did not know then that the Greenwood would fall into darkness, and it was an unfortunate fate as you say. Yet, here are elves that know the land is teaming with filth, and they are still willing to go,” Legolas said smartly.
“I will not stop them, if that is their choice, but I will make them aware of the dangers.” Celeborn released Legolas’ shoulder and turned away from him as he started to speak again. “I assume you are here once again to ask for my help. And again I am denying you.”
Legolas started to speak, but Celeborn put up a hand to stop him, “I’ll make my reasons quite clear to you.” He moved to stand before Legolas, hands cupped together and looking down his nose. “Your quest is failed before it has begun, young Prince. It is a trap.”
Legolas cocked his head and looked up through his dark lashes, “And how have you already come to this conclusion?”
Celeborn gave a muffled laugh and shook his head, “Youth and naivety always walk side by side.” He smiled arrogantly before he continued, “By now, the Dark Lord will know of your existence. He’ll know that you will be able to restore power to Mirkwood. And he will expect you to seek aid to accomplish this. Sauron will expect you to come to the Rhovanion with an army, and because of our proximity, size and strength, he’ll expect that army to come from Lothlórien.”
Legolas knew Celeborn was right with his assumptions, for Legolas had considered the same thing. To lure the Galadhrim away from the protection of the Lady’s woods would mean a chance at weakening and destroying a good portion of Lórien’s army. Sauron’s victory could lead to the destruction of Caras Galadhon, even with Galadriel’s protection over the land.
“I do not ask you to empty your borders. Just lend me a small portion of your army. I will grow the numbers from elsewhere, Rohan perhaps,” Legolas suggested.
Celeborn was unimpressed, “Word has reached us of an unfortunate incident that occurred between one of the hobbits and the seeing stone that I spoke of, unfortunate but extremely helpful. Gandalf is currently on his way to Gondor to warn them of the coming war while Rohan waits for a call to arms. You’ll not find help from them.” Celeborn looked away from Legolas and shook his head. “Perhaps you should have stayed with your adopted people. Actually, if you leave soon, you might still be able to catch them before they leave for Gondor. I’m sure they could use your skills, where here they will only be wasted.”
Tired, desperate and capitulated, Legolas stood from his chair and approached the elf lord. “What is it you want from me, Lord Celeborn? Shall I apologize for my father taking your loved one from your protected lands? Shall I apologize for my mother agreeing to go with him? Or shall I beg forgiveness for being born unto them? I cannot change what has happened, for it cannot be undone. You are hurt, and I understand that, but what you forget is that I share your loss. You may not have cared for Thranduil, but he was my father, and I loved him very much. I strive to be the great elf that he once was, and can only hope that he knows this. And though I was too young to remember much of her, I will always weep for my mother. There is so much that you could share of her. She was your sister, and you knew her well. However, you chose to use her death as continued punishment towards me and my lost city, when I have done naught to you.” In a final attempt to sway Celeborn, Legolas bowed his head, placed his hand on his heart, and in a somber soft voice claimed, “All I want… all I have ever wanted is to know what home feels like.”
“And you shall,” said a new voice, as Galadriel entered unexpectedly into the private audience chamber.
“Lady Galadriel,” Legolas said with shock.
“I was not expecting you, my love,” Celeborn added.
She smiled at her husband and approached Legolas, laying a gentle, warm hand to the side of his face, while drawing him to look at her. Their eyes connected and Legolas thought he could have seen as far as Valinor within their blue depths. Her eyes smiled as her lips curled with gladness, “You shall know peace again, Laiqalassë, and we will grant you your army.”
“We will?” Celeborn inquired, his brow raised questioningly.
“The time of healing must begin now, even as war is eminent. The Prince is right, too long have we mourned Almárëa’s passing while placing the blame on Thranduil, and now onto Legolas.” Galadriel went to her husband and took up his hands, “He is in no way responsible for anything deserving of your disapproval. He is your sister’s son, and that is most important. Clear your mind of the bitter haze and see.”
“I do see, my love,” Celeborn responded. “I see it every time I look at him, and I can’t keep my heart from weeping. He has her eyes, her lips, the shape of her face.”
“Then, do not despair any longer, for you are seeing her spirit as it lives through him. Almárëa is among us still,” Galadriel comforted. “We must help him, but it is a matter of timing.” She abandoned Celeborn, who silently considered his wife’s words, and confronted Legolas again. “Celeborn is right, we cannot send our army to Mirkwood… just yet. We must take advantage of what we know, and strike at the heart of our enemy.”
“Is Mirkwood not this place?” Legolas asked.
“Mirkwood in merely a haven for the degenerate creatures that claim the land, but the soul of this evil dwells within Dol Guldur. That is where Sauron’s orcs reside. He breeds his army from the decrepit towers of Amon Lanc. That must be our target,” said Galadriel.
Legolas thought about this. They could strike Dol Guldur, but… “We could still go to Mirkwood, as Sauron thinks we will, but with only a minimal army. Dol Guldur will empty, thinking they will ambush us, but the larger army will be waiting for them. Once they are in the open, Lothlórien will attack.”
“Sauron’s eye sees far. He will be suspicious of the smaller army,” said Celeborn, as he found himself drawn into the plans. “He may even spot the larger secondary army. He has spies everywhere.”
“That is why I say we must wait. We know Sauron will attack Gondor. His eye will be turned towards the White City, as an extensive part of his army will be there. His attention will not be on the Rhovanion, giving us a better chance of not being discovered,” informed Galadriel.
“And he’ll be looking towards Mirkwood, not Dol Guldur. It does make sense,” Legolas agreed. He looked to Galadriel and nodded, “Alright, I will be willing to wait if you will agree to send your armies in with me.”
Galadriel twisted at the waist to look at her husband, “That is solely up to Lord Celeborn.”
Legolas and Galadriel waited for his decision. Finally, Celeborn spoke, “I think in a way, I am not too different from Thranduil. All I have wanted is the safety of my people and those that I love. We live a splendid life, but we have barricaded ourselves away from the rest of the world in order to do that. Meanwhile, certain things have gone unchecked, and the wicked and immoral have spread like disease.” Celeborn took his wife’s hand and kissed it, “I should like to see it vanquished before I leave these shores, but I now understand that I must be a part of the cleansing. Perhaps Thranduil came to see this too, before he died, but I have been blinded by grief and anger all these years. I am no more.” He turned to Legolas with a nod of his head, “You shall have your army.”A
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The Last Wood Elf