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The Protege V: Harvest	By : alpham31 Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1555 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters, and I make no money with these tales.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
Author’s note: this is the final chapter of this first book. I sincerely hope you have enjoyed the tales within it, as much as I did writing them. Work is already underway for book 2, in which Legolas returns to the woods in the company of Elladan and Melven, and a whole new world of adventure, friendship, endurance and sacrifice.

I would like to show my utter gratitude to Mindirith, whose diligent and conscientious work has contributed enormously to the quality of my writing. I hope to count on her help again for book two, Arcane Land.

Chapter five: All Good Things

Dawn, the last he would see in Imladris for a long time, he knew.

Gripping the railings tightly in his anxious hands, he inhaled the sweet morning breeze, closing his eyes and greeting the forests. They were tense, expectant, for they knew that today, many elves would set out on their journeys home, would walk their paths, touch their barks, sing to them, protect them.

Legolas smiled at their childish enthusiasm, and he sent a wave of love and gratefulness – not quite sure how he had done it, yet he had been answered most emphatically by the sudden surge in their hum; he was, indeed, learning new skills.

Last night had been a balm to his weeping soul, for he had loved and been loved most thoroughly. Glorfindel especially, had succored and comforted him in a way he had not been since remembering his mother’s inimitable touch.

He remembered then, the way he had awoken abruptly, before they had all collected their belongings and strolled quietly into the house, each to his own quarters, for activity would start at dawn tomorrow, and each would be in his own role of leadership.

Someone had spoken to him – words which at first he could not remember, yet had finally come to him. A prophesy it seemed to him, its enunciator becoming clear to him. Yet the meaning, however, was anything but – he deduced only that he was to be given a gift of some kind, if friendship was kindled – with whom he knew not, when, or why - these were questions he knew he would have to wait many years in order to fathom, and so he would push the incident to the back of his mind where it would bother him no more; he knew that it would surface once the relevant events took place.

His heart felt leaden, for he had been so happy here, so carefree; he had frolicked as a child would, gallivanted with the lords, he had felt such bliss. Yet it was but a brief interlude in his life of duty, of service and sacrifice. He had accepted that a long time ago, when he had been crowned Prince of Greenwood, but now he was King of the Forests, and his sacrifice became all the more necessary. He was not his own person, his primary objective would always be service to others, and perhaps – from time to time, when the lady saw fit, she would allow him these small moments of peace, which however brief, would serve to comfort him in the dark times in between them. That is what would keep him going, the promise that soon, soon he would be allowed to love once more, lay in the arms of he whom he adored, but could not be with – not yet.

“Is all well in fair Imladris this morning, young Prince,” said a voice from the adjacent balcony.

Legolas looked at the wizened features of the ‘old man’ who had greeted him, for he had used the exact same words he had that first day they had met, only this time he was smoking his pipe.

“Istar? You are the protégé of Manwe, are you not?”

“Aye, that is so, young Prince. And you? Who is your protector? For you have one, do you not?”

“Indeed I do, Lady Yavanna be praised,” he smiled then. For on that first day, he had not been inclined to speak of it, could not, for it had not been the time. Now, however, there was nothing to hide, and he was glad of it.

They both smiled at each other then, knowing in their hearts that their fates were irrevocably entwined, they would meet their final destinies together, of that they were both sure.

Mithrandir puffed on his pipe pensively.

It was Legolas who broke the pensive silence with a question he had been meaning to ask for a while now.

“Mithrandir, what are your movements now? Where will you go?”

“I would first take council with my superior, Curunir. I am sure he is abreast of what has come to pass here, but I must ensure that this is, indeed the case. From there, perhaps I will visit the Horse Lords, before travelling to Lorien. I will visit you too, my boy, see how you fare with old Radagast!”

“Ah, yes. I am sure we will have a few anecdotes for you, my friend.”

“Indeed. And so it ends, and you have done so well, my King,” he said as he stared out into the forests beyond.

“Yes, it is done, and I believe we have all benefited. The military alliance will be of vital significance in the coming years, Mithrandir, although I suppose you already know this. Orc activity is increasing with every year - they are becoming stronger, more skilled with weapons, there is a plan in action yet we know not where it comes from, although the ‘who’ is something we all suspect. That we can call on Imladris or Lorien may one day save our realm, Olorin.”

Mithrandir did turn then, for he was surprised by how pessimistic Legolas had sounded.

“You believe it may come to that?”

“I do, yet perhaps not for a while. It will be crucial for the three realms to keep each other informed; our combined intelligence is the only way to ascertain where the threat is coming from, and allow us to plan ahead, that we not be surprised and slaughtered due to ignorance.”

“Yes, you are right of course. And what of you? For you have found comfort here, have you not?”

After a short pause, Legolas answered him the best way he could.

“I have found more than comfort, Mithrandir. And perhaps it will help me through these dark times ahead, for they are coming, and quicker than any of us believe,” he said, watching Mithrandir’s reaction to what he had said.

The wizard indeed believed him, knew he was right, he realized, as he puffed out a perfect smoke ring which Legolas stared at, a sense of dread inundating him.

“Elbereth guard us,” whispered Legolas, as the ring slowly dissipated.

....................................................................

The trunks and packages he would take back with him stood ominously in the corner of his rooms, a stark reminder of his imminent departure. Amongst it all, the wonderous chest gifted to him by the Lady Yavanna.

A brisk knock on his door revealed Benogelir who bowed low and moved to retrieve the objects to be placed in the wagons. He would need to make various trips, and so Legolas left the room, bound for breakfast, which he hoped he would not choke on.

Only the lords and dignitaries sat at the tables, for everyone else was about their duties, preparing the impressive caravan of elves that the Greenwood had become. For fifty had arrived for the festival, which had then been joined by ten others for the proclamation. They would lose Henian, Llyn, Maeron, Mentathiel and Amanthor, but were gaining Elladan, Melven, Balentar and Eruanna.

The table was in stark contrast with the hustle and bustle of activity going on around them. No one spoke, faces carefully schooled as they stood to bow, before resuming their silent breakfast. Taking his place, he performed his now famous routine, reaching for this or that plate, the bowl of steaming eggs, ripping a hearty chunk of bread.

It was Erestor, who once more looked on, then up at the lord, yet this time, instead of frowning paternally, a broad smile lit up his face, revealing his pearly white teeth.

“Come rain or sun, happiness or sorrow, your breakfast will always be the heartiest I have ever seen,” he exclaimed.

“Come now, Lord Erestor, what would you have me do? Starve myself and become as a sapling twig?”

“Nay, never that. You are mighty fine the way you are, my King,” he finished, although his smile faded somewhat, for the spark of joviality had petered out as he was reminded of the body he would not touch for a long time.

Aradan and Llyn listened as they ate. They had known this day would be difficult for their Lord, just as it would be for them, and they had not been wrong. Under his cool exterior, they could see the heaviness, the regret, the love. As one of his most intimate friends, it would normally fall to her, together with Galdithion and Henian to support him, listen to him when he was inclined to talk, yet now, they would be powerless to help, except Galdithion – for both she and Henian were staying in Imladris.

Elrond had said not a word as he finally set down his utensils, begging his leave to see to some final arrangements, as Erestor rose and followed his lord, bowing to the remaining guests.

“Where is Lord Glorfindel?” asked Gildor. Yet he regretted the question as he was met by a table-full of baleful expressions, and a silent Forest Lord. He truly had spent too long in the wilds, for he had been insensitive, yet he could not take the question back.

“I believe he is overseeing the escort, Lord Gildor,” said Celeborn in a carefully measured tone.

“Ah, that is it, of course. Well, if you will excuse me, perhaps I will see if I can lend a hand.”

“Of course,” replied Galadriel, glancing over at Legolas, who was eating quietly, not once lifting his head.

However, Elrohir caught his attention as he sat next to Legolas, his own breakfast finished. Turning his head to great him, Legolas waited for him to speak.

“Forgive me, my friend. Yesterday, I asked the impossible of you. I know you cannot promise to keep him safe, and yet I know you will protect him, and that is as much as I can ask.”

“I am glad we are not parting on unfriendly terms, Elrohir, and that you have understood my words. I know you are both experienced warriors, yet I also know that warfare in our two realms is so very different. I felt the need to point that out, lest Elladan have second thoughts. What he will find in the Greenwood is not what he is expecting, this I know. And I do not mean to scare you, his siblings, for there are many marvels to behold, Elrohir, many friends to be had, many great deeds I know he will do – you will see.”

Elrohir smiled then, for this elf had such confidence in his brother, he felt almost ashamed. He knew part of the reason why his brother wanted this exchange – and although it saddened him, deep down he knew he was right. It was time to explore their own destinies, and see what life had to offer them, separated or together.

They embraced as good friends do, before each moved their own separate ways.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Legolas found himself at a loss. Everything was ready, all he really wanted to do was find Glorfindel, but he was busy. Imladris was providing an escort for them, until they left the borders of the valley, which meant they would be riding together for two days. But they would both be in their roles as leaders, they would not be free to say goodbye the way Legolas wanted.

He wandered down the halls, passing the many elves carrying chests as they chattered wildly in excitement about the journey back, for they were all eager to leave, except him.

Walking into the less used areas of the upper household, his eyes travelled over the rich tapestries and paintings lining the high walls. They told of tales long passed, of battles, deaths, births, coronations, lost loves. He even spotted his grandfather, standing tall upon a high cliff, his long blond locks streaming out behind him.

Yet it was the painting of Lady Celebrian that had drawn him most. It was a portrait, painted as the lady sat slightly off to the side, yet looking straight ahead. She was beautiful, yet not spectacularly so. Her allure resided in the calm, intelligent expression - she radiated empathy and good will, she seemed wise yet fun-loving, strong yet sensitive, and he was entranced by this enigmatic lady, his lover’s bonded mate.

He had been so lost in his appreciation of the Lady of Imladris, that he failed to notice Galadriel, now standing at his shoulder.

“Tell me your thoughts, Legolas.”

“I was thinking,” he began softly, “that her beauty is not only that which is plain to see for most, but of a different nature. She strikes me as having a keen mind, a sharp wit and a streak of playfulness that would contrast with her unparalleled ability to strike empathy into the hearts of those she meets. She is surely a most extraordinary woman.”

Galadriel was taken aback by his astuteness – ‘had he read all that from the expression on her face?’

“You are right on all counts, Legolas. You will meet her one day, and I wager she will see what Elrond does in you, what I see in you, for blessed was the day you came to us, fair king,” began Galadriel. “I will give thanks always for that, and remember your great deed for so long as I shall live, for you have shown me that my daughter is restored, healthy and happy once more, waiting on the white shores for the return of her family – there is no greater gift, no greater love to give, my King,” she finished.

Turning to her now, he saw her then, for the first time; he saw the mother, the broiling emotion under the cool, severe shell of the Lady of Light. And so he smiled, silently thanking her for the insight she had allowed him.

“We will meet again, will we not, my Lady?” asked Legolas, knowing surely that they would.

“Indeed we will. Although hard times lie ahead for both our realms, and so it may be a while, but yes, we will see each other again, the Valar be praised,” she finished, before gliding away silently, leaving Legolas to his solitary wanderings once more.

Finally descending the steps to the lower floor, Legolas wandered into the bustling kitchens where activity was frantic. Everyone worked at full speed preparing packs for travelling, water, lembas, dried fruits. Gaerwyn and Brathina were at the front of it all, yet Legolas did not escape their attention, as they bowed low to him as he approached.

“My dear friends,” began Legolas. It is a great honour that your daughter Eruanna will be travelling back to the Greenwood with us. I know that our head cook Silima will be delighted to have an apprentice once more. She is a strong-charactered lady…” he chuckled then as a memory came back to him, “she had to be to deal with mischievous little princes who had a penchance for hot bread and pine-nut cakes!”

Gaerwyn laughed, but Brathina only smiled as she bowed her head, the sadness plain to see, for her daughter was young, innocent still, had so much to learn about so many things.

“My Lady,” said Legolas softly as he approached her, placing his finger under her down-turned chin, bringing her eyes up to meet his.

“She will live with Silima and her family. They have a daughter of the same age as Eruanna. Her husband is a warrior in the Home Guard. She will want for nothing, you have my promise.”

She finally looked up, her eyes swimming, yet finding the courage to speak out.

“I, I will miss her is all, my Lord. She is so young, so vulnerable,” she stressed, her eyes pleading with him to reassure her.

“Silima and Beridhren will treat her as another daughter, Brathina. More than this I will make sure that she is well, this I swear, and before you know it, she will be back, her satchel full of recipes to delight the citizens of Imladris!!”

She smiled timidly and nodded, as Gaerwyn laughed as he patted his wife on the shoulder. “That she will! We thank you for your reassurance, my King. We trust you, have done since we met you, and now, you have our daughter, that she may learn, experience life, and come back to us whole and hail, full of life and joy – “

“Thank you, Gaerwyn, Brathina. My stay has been most enjoyable, and so much more for your stunning culinary creations. I look forward to coming back soon.”

“Then safe journey, my Lord, and the Valar willing, we will see each other again, whole and hail.”

And with that, Legolas left the kitchens and wandered out into the gardens, bound for the sentinel in Celebrian’s gardens, as the all-too familiar weight of responsibility began to take hold once more.

……………………………………………………………………………

He placed his strong hand over the rough bark of the now vibrant tree, closing his eyes and opening his mind to its hum.

It was deep and wise, subdued yet content. It told Legolas that despite the years of suffering, life was coming back to it, it was learning to feel joy once more, and although it would never again be in the company of its lady, it would learn to overcome that loss. However, Legolas smiled as an idea popped into his head. If he could, if there was any way, he would take seeds with him on his journey over the sea – if he ever made it.

As Legolas continued to walk through and beyond the gardens, he left a quivering, vibrant, exultant sentinel proudly marking the entrance to Celebrian’s extraordinary gardens, the promise of immortality prickling its leafy senses.

He saw Gildor off in the distance, walking towards him.

“Did you find our wayward general, Gildor?” asked Legolas.

“I did not, Legolas, he is nowhere to be found. I think perhaps he does not want to be, at least not by me,” he said ruefully.

Legolas simply smiled. He knew not the veracity in that statement, yet he himself had an idea of where he might find his lover.

“It was a pleasure to know you, Gildor. I look forward to our reunion.”

“The pleasure was mine, Legolas. I bid you safe journey, and fervently hope we meet again soon.”

With one last smile, they parted ways, Legolas bound for the rocky pool where they had come to picnic and swim, where they had spent such happy moments. It was here, perched upon a stone at the pool’s edge, that he found Glorfindel.

“Everything is ready then,” said Legolas levelly.

“Yes, everything is done,” he replied as he looked at his lover who now knelt by his side.

“Don’t, Legolas. Don’t say goodbye,” he pleaded, his eyes boring into the vibrant green irises of his extraordinary lover, his face desperate.

“Alright, I will say only that we will meet again soon, my love. Yet I know not the meaning of ‘soon,’ for which of us is to say how long our duties will keep us from each other?”

“I know, yet we will find a way – I will find a way,” he said earnestly as he held his lover’s gaze, and Legolas knew it to be true, for there was anguish in the warrior’s eyes, yet there was also determination and steely resolve; his Gondolidrim lover would find him sooner than later, and so he smiled then, watching as Glorfindel’s face also slowly began to lighten, his brow smoothing, his eyes softening, his lips curling upwards, until they both moved into each other and simply cherished the closeness. There was nothing else to say, no oaths to make other than the words already uttered, the deeds already done.

It was Elrond and Erestor who found them thus, entwined in each other’s arms, utterly still, utterly silent.

They moved towards the kneeling pair and sunk down, touching them tentatively, silently begging leave to join the embrace. Opening their arms, the four elves embraced - for the last time in many years, each of them silently pledging their love and friendship, for what they had shared, what they would continue to share, was a miracle – a blessing so great it would carry them all through the darkness that lurked not far from the horizon.

THE END
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The Protege V: Harvest