The Eaters of the Dead.
Minka

Summary: It comes as the mist shrouds the deep valley – snaking down 
the mountain in the form of a line of fire and flame, heading towards 
the small village tucked within. Thirteen must go if there is to be 
any hope of salvaging the remains and the Havens beyond.

Rating: R

******

Ok, so one of two things has happened.  One; you clicked on this story 
as the title seemed to appeal to you, or two; you clicked on it as you 
know it to be the name of a book by Michael Crichton or more commonly 
know as "The 13th Warrior" staring Antino Banderas (Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan 
Ibn Al Abbas Ibn Rashid Ibn Hamad.  Lol) obviously making this an AU.

Ok, now, keep in mind, if you are like me and can quote the movie and 
book, then, I must warn you, this story is going to VERY DIFFERENT!!! 
 It is NOT going to be one of the "oh, I thought I would do a story 
based on so and so movie so I just copied and pasted the names of my 
new characters into the plot!" so do not fear about that.  As you will 
soon see, it starts out differently, the roles are different (but 
there is an ambassador in this) and the whole story will be different. 
 I have also left Mirkwood as being called Mirkwood else I screw it up 
later on when I forget hat I changed the name to Greenwood as I was 
going to.

Disclaimer: Anything used that is Tolkien created, is obviously that - 
Tolkien created; though I do own most Elves in this chapter.  Anything 
along the lines of The 13th Warrior is obviously from that - it does 
not take a rocket scientist to work that one out.

Please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it.  Both the 
prologue and the first chapter are up, but the prologue was too short 
to have as a chapter on its own.  Also, there is no real timeline to 
this, so, for your own sake and sanity, don't try to fit it in with 
the books.

*****

The Eaters of the Dead.

Prologue.


Fire.  It winded its way down the mountain, coming closer and close to 
the human village that stood at its base.  Men ran back and forth, 
yelling at each other and shouting out orders to anyone who would 
listen as they worked frantically to build some form of protection 
from the doom that they knew was about to descend upon them.  

A lone rider, a mere boy, jumped his pony over the small excuse of a 
fence and raced off into the night, heading in the opposite direction 
of the line of flame that shone into the night and blacked the sky 
with smoke. 

His aim, Mirkwood, and the diplomat rumored to be able to stop wars 
with a mere word.  













*****

The Eaters of the Dead.

Chapter One

Council of the Great Wood.



*****



"Why should we help them?" a strong voice called out, its tones 
bellowing around the great hall of Mirkwood as the talking figure rose 
from his seat.  "They are mere humans and have done nothing for us!"

"They may be humans," a lighter and yet more dangerous voice 
interrupted as the blond speaker rose to his own feet, "but they are 
still a part of this land!  They were still created by the same one as 
us!  And that is why they deserve out aid, Culdôr!"

The Elven warrior and chief advisor known as Culdôr scoffed at the 
younger Elf's words as he retook his seat, his fine features twisted 
into a half snarl, "created by the same, maybe, but you know as well 
as I, Legolas, that they are more of a hindrance to Ilúvatar then a 
thing to be proud of.  They are of the mind of Melkor!" 

Rolling his eyes, Legolas, the sole price of Mirkwood turned to plead 
his case to the rest of the council of the Great Wood.  "If the fact 
that they are breathing is not good enough for you, then why not 
consider the notion that, if we can not stop these villages from being 
destroyed, it is only a short distance to the Havens.  Now that 
concerns all of you in this very room!" 

A soft murmur spread through the seated council and it was with a smug 
smile at Culdôr that Legolas took his seat, gesturing with his head 
to the nodding Generals of his father's Kingdom.  Culdôr, chief 
advisor to Thranduil, King of the Mirkwood realm and father to 
Legolas, sent the prince a warning look that Legolas easily brushed 
off, not caring of the command in the elder's eyes.  The young prince 
held no fear of Culdôr like most of the other Elves residing in his 
father's Kingdom and it was with a light heart that the tall, blond 
dismissed the dark-haired advisor's glance. 

It had been three days since a young human boy had arrived in 
Mirkwood, seeking aid from the Elves concerning a threat to all the 
human villages bordering the west coast and the Blue Mountains near 
the Icebay of Forochel.  He had arrived alone, covered in blood and 
almost raving about a nameless evil that had descended upon his home, 
whilst begging for help in overthrowing it before all the human 
civilizations in the area had been destroyed.

Immediately Legolas had felt that they should help, but he was the 
only one.  Even his father was hesitant to go so far as aiding the 
humans that lived so far away, yet he had called this council at the 
request of his son.  Legolas had pleaded with his father and king for 
a chance to convince the other official Elves of Mirkwood into aiding 
the villages, and, Thranduil, like most that walked the earth, was 
unable to resist.  

For some years now, Legolas had been serving as prominent diplomat to 
his father's kingdom due to the fact that he could always manage to 
talk anyone into something.  He had a gift with words beyond that of 
most Elves and a way of conducting himself that called for attention 
and respect while being able to put even the nastiest insults into a 
sugar coated, irresistible manner. 

"If what you say is true, prince Legolas, then indeed we would help." 
An older Elf known as Lómëndil said from his seat, "but until a 
threat is known, I see not the point in sparing warriors that we need 
for our own protection."  Again the council murmured their agreement, 
obviously seeing the logic to his words - logic that all but one 
shared.

Getting slowly to his feet again, Legolas quickly thought of the best 
way to address the statement made by one of the most influential Elves 
in all of Mirkwood without offending him or offering insult.  "My good 
Lómëndil," Legolas began, offering the wizened Elf a slight bow.  "I 
will not deny that what you say does seem to be of wisdom, but I beg 
you, think upon it again.  What is the point of allowing village after 
village of innocent people to die before we take up arms against this 
evil?  Would it not be wiser to strike now, when it is not expected so 
that we may have the upper hand?  Also, if we aid them now, they will 
still be alive to aid us.  We can not hope to expect that, after the 
humans are all destroyed, we will receive word of an attack on the 
Havens and be able to muster a strong enough army to fight, let alone 
get there on time."  Legolas inwardly smiled at his tactfulness.  The 
last thing that he needed at this moment was to bring shame upon 
himself for hasty words when he so needed their support.  

"Your highness," Culdôr addressed Legolas as if he were but a child 
and a simpleton at that.  "When you are commander of your father's 
army, then it will be fit for you to give advice upon such matters, 
but until then, I strongly recommend that you no longer talk upon 
subjects that you have not the understanding of as others around you 
do."  Culdôr smirked at the red flush that spread across Legolas' 
face, reaching the very tips of the Elf's ears as he continued his 
rebuttal.  "My Lords', surely you can see the folly in the princes' 
words.  He is young, brash and only seeking a way to prove himself in 
battle.  Listen to him and it will bring ruin upon us all," turning to 
the prince he added, "no offence intended."

Knowing that to fly into fury at such a comment would only serve to 
prove Culdôr right, Legolas bit back the sharp remark that had formed 
in the back of his head, and merely nodded his recognition to the 
advisers' statement of no ill offence. 

"Nay," Legolas said out loud before allowing Culdôr to say any more, 
"I seek not for fame in battle as Culdôr has sort to tell you - I 
already have that - but only to do what is right." The last word was 
said whilst whirling his head to face Culdôr, giving him an angered 
glare. 

"Arakáno," Legolas questioned, turning his head to the commander of 
the army, "since I have been respectively advised not to speak on such 
matters, perhaps you may be able to aid me in this topic.  How long, 
roughly, do you think it would take to fully arm the entirety of 
Mirkwood's army for such a trip as to save the Havens from an unknown 
threat?"

Silence fell upon the room except from the sigh that came from 
Culdôr.  "Your Majesty," he breathed, this time directing his 
question to the king, who had, up until this time, sat quietly at his 
throne observing the council.  

Raising his hand to silence his advisor, Thranduil looked to Arakáno, 
"please answer my son's question," he said, looking to Culdôr to 
stress the point that Legolas was his son.

"As you wish, your Majesty," Arakáno muttered while bowing to his 
king.  "My guess, having not had to do such a task before, would be 
that it would take a few weeks, two at the least.  That is to properly 
arm, equip and pack provisions for the entire army."

"Thank you," Legolas smiled, "and Talran, you have once journey to the 
Havens, have you not?" when Talran nodded his answer, Legolas stalked 
closer to him, a large smile upon his face.  Leaning over the small 
railing that ringed the audience floor of the Council Hall, the Elven 
prince looked the man straight in the eyes.  "Would you mind telling 
everyone just how long it took you to get there?"

Shifting under the princes' gaze, Talran looked to Culdôr and then 
back to the prince.  "It took a month, twice as long on the way home 
as I crossed the Misty Mountains via the Southern Pass."

Smiling in triumph, Legolas once again turned to Arakáno, ignoring 
the harsh glare that he received from his father's advisor that 
hovered at the borders of the railing nearest the king.  "Now," 
Legolas began, "as previously said, I know nothing of the way of 
commanding an army, so, Arakáno, please tell me if I get anything 
wrong.  Likewise with anyone else who's specialty to this court I may 
misinterpret. 

"Upon receiving word that the Havens are under attack, provided that 
we do get the word, it would have already been at least a month since 
the rider rode out of the bay and to Mirkwood, would it not?  Then, as 
Arakáno put it so wonderfully for us all, it would take a further two 
weeks to assemble the army, and, if I am not mistaken, it is near on 
impossible to lead an army over the High Pass.  This would mean that 
we would have to take the Southern Pass, which adds on another two 
months until our time of arrival.

"So that is, let me see, a month for the rider, two weeks to prepare 
and a further two months to travel, totaling three and a half months 
before adequate help could reach our fair Havens."  Legolas turned to 
the council, "have I made an error in my calculations yet?  Math is 
not my specialty."  He received the small, collective laugh that he 
was seeking for, and, feeling encouraged, he continued.

"My Lords', surely you can see that this is no good, unless seeing the 
Havens burnt to the ground is what you want?  Chances are, by the time 
the rider is halfway here the place will no longer exist, so what good 
is sending out a war party then?"  Moving up to the small, raised 
pedestal that stood in the very center of the round room, Legolas 
jumped up on it, using his hands for emphasis on his words. "The time 
to strike is now, while we have the chance, and good for us if we 
manage to save a few human villages along the way, for they will make 
excellent allies in the far West should anything else unseemly 
happen!"

Another member of the council stood up and faced the gathered people 
of Mirkwood.  "He may speak the truth, and he may speak it prettily, 
but why should we sacrifice the peace that we are in to fight someone 
else's dragon?"

"'Twas never said that it was a dragon, and, Dúelen, when was the 
last time that you stepped outside the comforts of the palace?  We are 
not at peace!  We have spiders bigger then you and I put together 
practically knocking at out door, Orcs' zigzagging through our forest 
that has turned dark with evil and ill intent.  We are far from peace 
- just because it has not been openly declared does not mean that we 
do not constantly battle foes in our very homeland."

"Did you not listen to the boy, my prince," Dúelen demanded, "he said 
that a great fire came down from the mountain upon them!"

"Your point being?" Legolas asked, starting to get frustrated at the 
plain idiocy of the council.

"My point being, your highness, that if you did not spend so much time 
living in a world of folly beliefs, you would recall the problem with 
Smaug in the Lonely Mountain and the havoc that a dragon can bring 
upon anyone that dares to stand against him!"

"First of all," Legolas sighed irritably, "I do recall that we 
currently have a dragon living in the mountain to the North of us.  
Second, I object to your remark upon my beliefs, for what is wrong 
with wanting to help others that are not as fortunate as us?  And 
lastly, never did the boy - who has a name, mind you - never did 
Maysarn say that it was a dragon.  He claimed that it was a line of 
fire, and if I am not mistaken, no dragon - at least not in my world 
of false beliefs - spurts fire from its scales."

Dúelen glared at the prince, his eyes full of hate and malice of the 
young Elf that dared to think himself as worldly as his elders. 
Dúelen was not the only one in Mirkwood that disapproved of her 
prince, and it was obvious at this council.  Legolas was rash, daring 
and extraordinary quick to speak up against any of his seniors, never 
doing them disrespect but enough to anger them.  It was folly in the 
eyes of the older and wiser Elves; that this young Elf who had not yet 
even seen his three thousandth birthday, sort to contradict them on 
what was right, prince or no.  It was with this in mind that the 
seniors had convinced Thranduil to make his son Mirkwood's envoy, thus 
keeping him away for most of the year, and, while they must admit that 
he did a very good job, it was still infuriating that he still sort to 
provide advice on things that he should not.

"My prince, could it not be that there are other fo- "

"If I may finish?" Legolas interrupted Dúelen while taking his place 
at the raised platform of seats and crossing his legs, a rather smug 
and yet forged stupid look upon his face.  "Let me get this one last 
thing straight, Dúelen. You say that it is foolish to seek to cross 
paths with a dragon, and yet, you are more then happy to if the Havens 
are attacked?"

"Yes, but that is a diff-"

"A different story?" Legolas butted in while rising his right hand to 
his chin in a look of deep thought.  "I do not really think so.  I 
mean, crossing paths with a dragon is crossing paths with a dragon no 
matter what way you look at it, is it not?"

"Yes, I guess it is but-"

"Then is it possible that all you have just said held no meaning?  
That you merely got up and spoke meaningless words without 
justification in order to make me look defective in the eyes of the 
council?  Also, is it not true that you, Culdôr, wanted the position 
that I now hold as diplomat to the lands of the South and East?  That 
you have, on more than one occasion tried to prove me invalid of my 
rank and have me excused, and, as a last question, is it not true that 
you, more then once, had dealing with a certain assassin that, only 
this year, made an attempt on my life?"

A volley of shouts came from the seated nobles as most flew to their 
feet in objection of the princes' brash words.  Legolas just looked 
from them to Culdôr, his right brow raised elegantly in a sign of 
amusement.  

"Enough!" Thranduil's voice reverberated off the walls of the round 
room, throwing everyone into an embarrassed silence.  "That is enough, 
all of you!"  He commanded as the people of the council retook their 
seats, their heads bowed in their shame.  "I have heard enough of this 
talk.  Legolas, that last comment was completely uncalled for, and it 
was you who then spoke without justification."  

Legolas bowed his head in a sigh of admittance to his mistake, 
successfully hiding the smile that had crept upon his lips.  If there 
was one thing that he knew better then the grain of his bow, it was 
his father, and he knew what was about to be said.  

"It is my decision on this matter," Thranduil proceeded, "that we send 
a conversing party to Rivendell, leaving this afternoon.  Legolas, you 
will lead that party, and Culdôr, I want you to go with him."  A soft 
sigh came form Culdôr at the command, but he did not voice his 
complaints.  

Legolas on the other hand smiled, bowing his head and touching his 
half closed right fist to his forehead in a sign of thanks and respect 
to his father.  

"You will leave as soon as possible and Legolas, I leave it up to you 
to chose your companions," Thranduil continued, "this council is 
dismissed."

The Elves quickly got to their feet and exited the room, not wishing 
to be chosen to go all the way to Rivendell on such short notice.  
Sighing, Legolas looked to who was left; Culdôr, Dúelen and another 
Elf who had remained silent throughout the whole council, Rastur.  

"I guess it is you three then," Legolas said with a smile even though 
his words betrayed his true feelings, "we leave within the hour."

Exiting the room himself, Legolas took a deep breath of the forest 
air, glad to be out of the hall and have all that over and done with. 
 The sun was just reaching its zenith and the forest was alive with 
the sound of small woodland creatures as they went about their 
business.  The palace was no less cluttered and abuzz as people 
hurried this way and that, making ready for the warriors that would 
set out to Rivendell within the hour.

Once he had packed a few belongings and was prepared to go, Legolas 
made his way to his horse and made sure that it was well fed and 
watered.

A hand clasped his shoulder, causing the Elf to jump slightly at the 
touch and Legolas spun around, on the defensive, only to be faced with 
his friend, Gilnen. 



"You did well in there, my friend," the Elf said.  He was about 
Legolas' height yet slightly sturdier in build with green eyes and 
hair that boarded on dark blond and brown.   

"I could have used your help actually," Legolas admitted to his long 
time friend.

A small laugh was all he got in reply as Gilnen went to his own horse, 
readying him for a ride.  "How do you do it, Legolas?  How in 
Ilúvatar's name do you do it?"

"Do what?" Legolas questioned while eyeing Gilnen suspiciously as he 
fed his horse some of the grain put aside for the ride to Rivendell.

"You knew all along, did you not?" Gilnen asked while looking the 
prince in the eye.  "You knew exactly how to play them to get the 
responses they gave you, thus leading to your father's decision, 'tis 
as if you could see the future!" 

At this Legolas just laughed, "nay, my friend, 'twas no act of sorcery 
that got the conclusion that I wanted.  They are just simple, easy to 
play with and to twist.  The trick is to make their words turn against 
them, and, given the fact that they all disapprove of me anyway, it is 
an easy job!"  That was how it had been, and Legolas was thankful for 
it.  Countless councils' had gone much worse in his time than that 
one, and it was a relief that he was able to play them so easily.  
Nothing that had been said by him, or one of the others, had come as a 
surprise to Legolas, thus proving how well he was able to read people 
and play upon their weaknesses.  The statement about Culdôr and the 
assassin had been his closing since he had stepped into the Hall.  He 
knew that it would send the council into the frenzy that it did, thus 
forcing Thranduil to intervene, the benefit being that Legolas' words 
had been the last heard and the most likely to stick in ones head when 
forced to make a final judgement on the spur of the moment.  Right 
from word go, Legolas had played them, dragging them into his plan to 
get his way and see what he thought right done, and once again it had 
been a success, proving why he was known as the best envoy that 
Mirkwood, and the rest of Arda, had ever had representing them. 

"Will you be accompanying us?" Legolas changed the subject, as the 
other three Elves that were to leave with them came into the stables. 
 Without even looking to Legolas, they mounted their horses and rode 
out, leaving the crowned prince and his friend behind.  

Rolling his eyes, Gilnen leaped onto his own horse, closely followed 
by Legolas. "Stay here and miss another show down between you and 
Culdôr, let alone Lord Elrond?  Why in the world would I miss that?" 
 Gilnen laughed, his face lighting up with the prospect of seeing 
Legolas beat Culdôr yet again in a war of words. "I would not miss it 
for the world!"

Legolas shot him a deadly look and let out a slight hiss as he spurred 
his horse on, leaving Gilnen far behind.  The prince knew that this 
was going to be far from a pleasant journey, even if it was what he 
had wanted his father to conclude, and the only hope in his heart was 
that Rivendell might offer their support easier then Mirkwood.

*****

Chapter Two

IMPORTANT: Ok, I have done a lot of research into the hierarchy of Tolkien’s 
Elven divisions, and it is still with somewhat shaky beliefs that I have done 
what I have done.  From what I have read and been able to piece together, 
Galadriel and Celeborn (putting it into the terms of old England’s form of 
social standing) are the High Queen and King of the Elves.  Thranduil would then 
step up into their place if anything should happen to them, but, since his 
little disgracing habits (the fact that he is a gold digging alcoholic) the rule 
would then fall to Legolas.  Elrond would be next after him, as, it is important 
to remember that he is only Half-Elven and only a Lord, thus placing him below 
Legolas in any rank for two reasons.  Following him would be his twin sons – 
Elladan first then Elrohir, or maybe a joint rule – and after that I guess that 
Elves are just screwed.  I have used this only to demonstrate Legolas’ real 
power in a scene that is coming up in the next chapter or so, thus meaning that 
Legolas can overrule Elrond, but, being the fact that he is in his land, he is 
still required to show courtesy.  Make sense? 

*****



Chapter Two

Arrivals and many meetings

*****

To say that the journey to Rivendell had been awkward was a complete 
understatement.  Legolas knew that it would be far from pleasant, but this, this 
was just unnerving.  Culdôr and Dúelen did everything but follow Legolas’ 
orders, including making their own strongly worded suggestions over what should 
and should not be done along the way.  It was infuriating for the young prince 
and it was only the restricting hand of Gilnen that stopped him from quiet often 
hitting one of the supposed wizened Elves with something heavy.   

Yet, surprisingly, they were not the ones that bothered Legolas the most.  The 
Elf Rastur was strange to the prince and the fact that Legolas knew next to 
nothing about him was slightly unsettling.  The tall, dark haired Elf was 
obviously not one of the Sindar, thus leaving open the question of what was he 
doing in Mirkwood in the first place.  Everything about him was strange, he 
barely spoke, whether to agree or disagree with either of the opposing parties, 
he would keep completely to himself, riding somewhat behind the rest and lying 
as far away as possible at nights and, most disturbing of all, Legolas could 
always sense Rastur’s eyes upon his back.  It was worrisome, to feel the Elf's 
steady gaze always upon him, and as Legolas found out, Rastur made no secret of 
his actions.  Even when Legolas turned, Rastur did not look away and, if 
anything, made his stares more obvious.  

With all these factors playing a part in the journey of the Elves of Mirkwood, 
it was no surprise that Legolas exhaled a long and thankful sigh as they all 
looked down upon the valley-set palace of Rivendell.  The waterfalls that 
surrounded were peaceful and comforting, their light spray reaching even the 
five companions upon their horses at the top of the large, water rimmed basin.  
Like all the other times that Legolas had visited the house of Lord Elrond 
Half-Elven, the trees and various bushes were in full bloom, the flowers gracing 
the air with their sweet sent as the greens and gold’s of the leaves fluttered 
in the breeze.  It was a wondrous sight to the eyes, and one that Legolas would 
never tire looking upon, no matter how long he lived.  

Spurring his horse on, Legolas made his way to the winding path that snaked its 
way between trees and boulders alike to finally reach a small bridge on which it 
was possible to cross the great river into the very heart of Rivendell.

“My prince,” Culdôr’s voice stopped him before he could start his way down the 
path.  “Perhaps you should not go first; it would be unseemly for you to do so 
as well as dangerous.” 

With his back turned to the others, Legolas sighed deeply while closing his eyes 
and counting to ten in his head in order to stop him from saying something that 
they would all deem ‘uncouth’ for a member of the Royal family.  “I shall be 
fine, Culdôr,” Legolas replied as evenly as he could.  “’Tis Rivendell, there is 
no harm to be found here.”

“But, your highness, it would be inappropriate for a prince to-“

“Culdôr, to you everything that I do would be inappropriate.” Legolas 
interrupted, his voice clipped from his weariness “so let us be over with it and 
you learn to accept the things that I do as something that you can not change.” 
 With that he whispered to his horse and, before anyone else could object, was 
swiftly making his way down the path, hearing only the light laughter of Gilnen 
as he departed their company.  

The overhanging trees made the air cool and slightly damp as Legolas rode – now 
at a more dignified pace – along the well worn dirt road.   A faint whistle from 
above alerted him to the presence of the Rivendell guards and, with a smile, he 
whistled back, mirroring the previous one.  

Almost instantaneously, a dark haired Elf dropped from the trees above him and 
landed just in front of the princes’ now stopped horse.  With a smile, the Elf 
walked up to the right side of Legolas and patted his leg in a sign of greeting. 
 

“My prince, it is good to see you again,” the Elf said, his smile reaching his 
dark, mischievous eyes.  

“Ah, Elrohir,” Legolas replied, address the Elf before him.  “How goes all with 
you and yours?  Good I should hope.”

The Elf smiled and inclined his head.  “All is well.  We have not had a threat 
of the Orcs that were once seen long ago near these borders and we live without 
the fear that I hear your kingdom does.  The Winter Solstice also went well and 
undisturbed, thus blessing us with such a fruitful spring.  Father is well, as 
is little Estel – not so little anymore mind you.”  At this both Elves laughed. 
 

It had been close to twenty years since Legolas had last visited and he still 
remembered the little human baby that the Lord had under his care.  He had named 
him Estel, the hope of the free people of Middle-Earth, as he was to be, once 
old enough, the future king of Gondor.  All Elves had placed their faith in the 
small baby, hoping that he would prevent them from further dying out or passing 
over the great sea.  

Legolas harbored fond memories of the small child who would have only been nigh 
on four years old when they met, and it was with a slight laugh at how he 
remembered Estel had found his ears fascinating.  The child would spend hours 
sitting upon Legolas’ lap and sucking on his pointed ears or twirling his little 
hands about the lengths of the Mirkwood princes’ hair.  

“What?” another voice cut through Legolas’ reminiscing, “no question of well 
being for your dear friend?” the voice belonged to another Elf that also jumped 
from the trees, this time making his way to the left side of the prince.  
Looking from right to left, Legolas was astonished once again at how alike the 
two twins looked – there was simply no telling them apart if you did not know 
them. 

“Oh Elladan,” Legolas sighed, trying to keep his face a straight as possible and 
not laugh “you should know that I never liked you!”

Elladan swatted his leg yet laughed at the princes’ words, “the only reason you 
do not like me is for the fact that I am your rival in archery!”

“Elladan,” Elrohir warned, “you know that every time you sort to challenge 
Legolas you were bested!  So hush yourself.”  At the way the younger of the two 
talked to the elder, Legolas could no longer keep his straight face and his 
musical, light laughter filled the air once again.

“’Tis good to hear you laugh once more, my prince,” Elladan offered to the 
mounted Elf.

“Just as it is good to see you after so many a year,” Legolas replied, “both of 
you.”

“Now come, were is your escort?” Elladan inquired and at the guilty face that 
Legolas pulled, the twins looked to each other, exchanging worried glances.  

“Do not tell us that you came here alone again.  You know it is not safe on 
these roads.” Elrohir reprimand the blond rider, his face half way between anger 
and concern.  

Again Legolas laughed and rolled his eyes, “you two are worse than your father.” 
He informed them, “yet fear not, I did not come alone, I merely left them behind 
as they were aggravating me.”  The relief was evident on the twin’s faces and 
again Legolas saw just how much alike they really were.  “But come, we must be 
off else they catch up to me and tell me off in much a worse manner then you two 
have.”

Both twins turned on their heels, let out high-pitched whistles, and within a 
matter of moments, two horses came stealthily through the undergrowth.  
Elrohir’s was a large white charger, much like that of Legolas’ while Elladan’s 
was a chestnut brown yet about the same size.  

Without another word passing between the three friends, they made their way 
further down the path, replying to the sentries whistles as they went.  

*****

Up close, Rivendell was just as he remembered it, full of life and colour that 
had long left the fair Greenwood, or as now known, Mirkwood.  It was refreshing 
to be among such a living and noticeably evil free environment, and Legolas 
drank deeply of the water-vapor filled air.  The dampness clung to his clothes 
and hair, yet not making them drip or become uncomfortable, only cool and 
revitalizing.  

The Elves that he passed all looked at him in wonder, either remembering his 
last visit or just being plain curious as to what a member of the Sindar 
division was doing among their midst.  It was good to be looked upon in such a 
matter that differed from his home, for all there regarded him as both 
untouchable and unapproachable or as a hindrance to their own plans for the 
forest.  

The main entrance of the Last Homely House loomed up ahead; its large doors open 
as usual.  The soft, friendly glow of the candles streamed out, casting lengthy 
shadows of the marble pillars that stood at the entrance, making the building 
all the more inviting.  Just looking at it, Legolas could feel all the worries 
of the previous days lifting off his shoulders as he let the warm light elope 
his senses’ and the cool air easy his burdens.  

Dismounting at the large marble steps that lead to the greeting hall of the 
Homely House, the three Elves handed their reins over to a waiting servant who 
bowed low to all three.  They walked up the steps, taking them two at a time and 
were soon overshadowed by the large building that looked as if it had just 
emerged out of the growth of the surrounding forest.  

The hall was just as the prince remembered, large and yet not straight.  It was 
more of a rounded room, with many smaller and straight corridors coming of the 
main hall in all directions.  Seats lined the walls where no opening stood and 
various tapestries hung from the earthen painted walls, each outlining a 
different revolutionary time in the Elven history upon both Middle-Earth and 
Beleriand.  A large fireplace was against the middle of the far most wall and 
stretched half way to the high, arched ceilings of the waiting chamber, its 
flickering flames giving the room a tranquil feeling.  Patterns of flowers were 
painted in white upon the circular floor and the pillars which supported the 
ceiling at various points in the room were adorned with intricate carvings of 
vines and leaves, snaking their way up to the ceiling and to the light of the 
sun.  

“Father is in a meeting at the present time,” Elrohir informed the prince while 
leading him down the second hall to the right of the fireplace, “so in the mean 
time I will show you to your room so you may rest from your journey.”

“Much thanks,” Legolas replied, “I would not have wished to greet your father in 
such a state anyway,” he said whilst looking down on his travel dirtied clothes. 
 The greens and browns had become more or less one shade of dusty brown from the 
dirt of the road and grime of the path that ascended the Misty Mountains.   
“When my escort arrives-“

“We will house them as far away from you as possible!” Elladan laughed having 
read Legolas’ thoughts.  

“Thank you.  It will do me good to be away from their disapproving glares, 
though Gilnen is with them.”  He conveniently left out the disturbing feeling 
that he had received from Rastur throughout the entire journey, not wishing to 
bother his friends with such strange thoughts.  

“We will put him in his normal room and you in yours.” Elladan smiled while 
taking his brothers place in leading Legolas to the end of the hall.  

“Your room has remained untouched and is still as isolated as possible, though 
you do have a neighbor.” Elrohir piped up from behind the other two.  

“Who is staying in this end of the house?” Legolas questioned, his curiosity 
getting the better of him.  No one ever came up this hall as it was just unused 
bed chambers and that was why when he first came here, many centuries ago, he 
had requested to be put up in this wing for it had been quiet and a place were 
he had no fear of running into anyone who would either seek his advice or 
further disapprove of his tactics.    

“Why Estel, of course,” Elrohir said as if it were the most obvious thing in the 
world.

“Estel?” Legolas asked, fearing that his ears had failed on him.  “Why ever is 
Estel up here?’

As they passed a room that was obviously in use, Legolas realized that it must 
be his.  The hall was not kept in ill repaired but was not the most cleansed of 
them all.  There were five rooms adjacent to the hall, three on the left and two 
on the right and Legolas’ was the last on the left.  What was now known as 
Estel’s room was the last on the right, and almost opposite to the prince’s.

“The same reason as you, I believe,” Elrohir concluded while opening the door 
for their guest.  “He likes to be alone a lot; I think he feels as if he does 
not fit in here.  Father and we two try all we can, but he is still alone in the 
technical sense as there is none other of his kind.  Yet other than that he fits 
in fine, ‘tis just sometimes that he wishes to be alone so he chose to stay up 
here.”

Legolas just nodded his head in understanding.  He may not have been the only 
one of his race where he lived, but he was one of the only ones who thought like 
he did.  That was one of the reasons that he liked Rivendell so much, as all the 
Elves there were more concerned with outside matters then with the treasure and 
self-importance that his woodland kind were.  

“We will come and get you for dinner,” Elladan said whilst pulling the door 
closed, “if there is anything that you need, you know where to find us.  There 
should be water in the bath already if you wish to bath and I think a few of 
your outfits are still on the hangers.”

“Thanks,” Legolas whispered, half to himself as the door was shut behind him.  
Sighing, the prince went and sat on the edge of the bed and began pulling off 
his boots whilst taking in his surroundings.  Almost nothing had changed since 
his last visit yet he could tell that the room had been cleaned frequently, 
always ready for one of his unexpected arrivals.  The room was luxurious and 
large, almost as big as his royal suite in his own home, and open, allowing the 
fresh air and the sounds of the falling water to travel through.  It was painted 
in greens and gold’s, like that of the outside world in which he was now 
staying.  The high arched ceiling was of a golden-brown and supported gold 
painted vines and leaves with a mural of a bird sitting among the golden leaves 
of a mallorn tree.  The rest of the walls were painted in different shades of 
green, working from the darkest at the top and the lightest at the bottom where 
it blended into the carved stone floor.  A fireplace was on the wall right of 
the door and the bed further down, while the opposite wall opened up to reveal 
his wash room.  The other wall was practically non-existent as the entire space 
opened up to a large balcony.  

Having completed the removal of his shoes, he walked slowly to the balcony – his 
favorite aspect of the entire room.  It was shaped into an autumn leaf with the 
railings made to look like the branches of the tree and the table and chairs 
that sat upon the marble surface matched, with the table in an identical shape 
as the floor.  It overlooked and, to an extent, stretched over one of the 
numerous gushing waterfalls of Rivendell and yet was perfectly enclosed by trees 
on both sides of the bank to allow the prince his privacy.  

Twilight was falling upon the land, making the many lanterns and small fire-lit 
lights glow within the trees with a stronger intensity and it seemed to Legolas 
that the very waterfall seemed to blaze with a light of its own.

Breathing deeply of the air, Legolas at last allowed himself to relax.  He need 
not worry about Culdôr or Dúelen, nor fret about the strangeness of Rastur.  He 
was at peace – or at least until he had to convince Rivendell of his plan in 
aiding the human villages to the west.  

Heading to the bathroom, he found his bath already drawn and waiting for him.  
Lighting a few of the scattered candles that lay about the large bath and wash 
stand, he first went and opened the small closet that was within the room.  He 
found that many of his garments – some for hunting, some for dining and councils 
– still hung there, unmarked and well taken care of.  Choosing one of silver and 
light blue, he stripped himself of the dirt and mud covered clothes that he had 
worn for the last few days, submerged himself into the warm, scented water and 
allowed the pains of his body to leave him and evaporate in the bath.  

Immersing his head under, he paid special attention to getting the knots and 
grime out of his hair before letting himself relax and bask in the comfort that 
the bath provided.  

After what seemed like hours, the prince emerged, dried himself off, and 
dressed, surprised that the chosen tunic and pants still fit him perfectly.  
Opening a draw, he found the comb that he had left there so long ago and started 
to work the knots and kinks out of his now clean hair.

A soft bang from in his sleeping chambers made him stop mid stroke and when the 
noise was repeated, he placed the comb down, switching it with one of his long 
knives while blowing out the candles.  

His mind was racing as he pulled the silvery filigreed blade free of its 
scabbard with nothing more then a silent hiss.  Who could possibly be in his 
room at such a time of night, and without permission?   Memories of the time 
that he was attacked in his own room in Mirkwood by the assassin that he was 
positive that Culdôr had sent flooded back to him, and for some reason his mind 
was automatically drawn to Rastur. 

Legolas walked sideways, silently placing one foot over the other and keeping 
his back to the wall as he made his way over towards the door.  Taking the 
golden door handle in his left hand, he slowly turned it down, making sure not 
to allow it to make even the slightest noise.  Pushing the door open only far 
enough for him to slip out of, Legolas inwardly cursed his lack of thought in 
lighting a few candles before he went for his bath.  The room was pitch black 
apart from the soft glow that illuminated the veranda and a few feet in front of 
it.  

Over near the fireplace he could hear labored breathing, and, using the past 
knowledge of the layout of the room, Legolas slowly and quietly made his way 
over, letting his eyes adjust to the dark.  When he was half way to the 
inglenook he could make out the outline of a figure, crouching down, facing the 
hearth with his back to the Elf.  Apparently the stranger had not yet heard 
Legolas’ approach.  

Gripping the dagger tightly in his right hand, Legolas took a deep breath and 
charged forward, grabbing the figure by the back of the neck and hauling him to 
his feet while turning the man around and then pressing the sharp of the dagger 
to his throat.  The stranger let out a startled gasp but once the blade was in 
place went dead still, barely even breathing.  

“Who are you and just what do you think you are doing in here?” Legolas 
questioned, making his voice as dangerous as he could and by the slight tremble 
that ran through the figure, he knew that it had worked.  

“I could ask you the same thing.” the figure stated bravely, but when Legolas 
pressed upon his dagger, he hastily added, “you do not remember me, prince 
Legolas?”

Legolas’ mind raced as he tried to put the voice to a face and then to a name 
and yet the only possible person that he was able to come up with seemed 
impossible.  “Estel?” he questioned, his confusion evident in his voice.

The figure seemed to relax within his grasp a little, “of course it is me.  Who 
else do you think would be sneaking about in your room at this time of night?” 
the man asked with a hint of laughter in his tone.

Smiling also, Legolas released the man and tucked the dagger into the back of 
his breeches.  “Oh the usual – unnamable evils, assassins, royal guards – 
nothing out of the ordinary.” 

A started cry of surprise came from Estel as he once again turned to the 
fireplace and this time Legolas saw what he was doing.  He had been starting to 
light a fire.  “We have to talk,” Estel laughed out, “but let me finish getting 
your fire going, unless you want to hold a knife to my throat again?” he 
questioned, receiving the laughter that he sort from the prince.

“You remembered me?” Legolas half asked and stated, “how?  You were so young.”  
He was starting to relax from his fright already and, strangely enough, it was 
relieving to know that the man remembered him, even if he did not know why.

The fire was crackling within the fenced off hearth before Estel replied, and 
even then, he grabbed the Elf’s elbow and lead him out to the balcony to sit 
upon the chairs and watch the night.  “One rarely forgets a friend, even from 
many a year past.  Besides,” he added with a large smirk, “I seem to remember 
that you had rather nice ears!”

“You remember that?” the blond chocked out between his laughs.  “I had hoped 
that you would have forgotten that small detail.”

“How could I?  Both Elladan and Elrohir delight in reminding me what a handful I 
was for the prince of Elves.”

“You were no more handful then they, for I remember that they used to get up to 
all sorts of things,” Legolas said while looking upon the man for the first real 
time since they had started to converse.  Estel had grown up, had changed much 
over the years that had left no imprint upon his Legolas’ own face and it was 
slightly sad to think that once he used to bounce the small child on his lap and 
tell him stories of the great battles that he had participated in.  The man was 
tall; he had noticed that in the room, almost as tall as himself which was 
strange among the race of humans.  He was studier built though, his muscles 
easily seem through his clothes unlike that of Legolas’ that could only be seen 
when in use, but were there nonetheless.  Estel’s eyes were dark, like the 
clouds on a stormy day, and his hair was shoulder length, wavy and somewhere 
between black and dark brown.  He still held most of the facial features that he 
had when he was but a child, though a small stubble now grew upon his chin and 
upper lip.  

“Indeed they did, and still do, even to this day,” Estel agreed with the 
prince’s last statement.  “So,” he asked, “tell me about these nameless evils 
and assassins.”

Legolas just sighed, not wanting to bring up such troublesome facts in the face 
of the calmness that he felt.  “Perhaps another time, for the assassin at least. 
 As for the nameless evil, you will find out soon enough.”

“I gather this is not a social call then?” Estel asked, slight disappointment in 
his voice as he shot a quick sidelong look at the Elf that sat on the other side 
of the table.  Legolas looked just as he remembered him, having not aged in the 
many years since he had looked upon him with the eyes of a child.  Yet something 
had changed in the Elf, he seemed to carry more worries then what he could 
recall.  Legolas seemed to act differently now, more proper then he remembered, 
as in his memories, he always saw the Elf squirming and laughing under his touch 
as he sucked on his ears, or playing hide and seek with him once he was old 
enough to wander about. 

“Why are you up here, in this long forgotten wing?” Estel asked, his voice soft 
and gentle, not wishing to upset the Elf.

“The same reason as you, I should gather.” Legolas replied while looking at his 
newly found friend.  

“To hide?  But why, I hear you are an all powerful diplomat these days.  Kings 
and Queens alike bow down before you.”

Legolas laughed at the suggestion of the royal lines that he knew bowing to him. 
 “Not so, my friend, ‘tis not so at all.”  Turing his gaze back to the rushing 
waters of the fall, Legolas made up his mind to continue, allowing the human 
into a small part of his mind, heart and world that he had never confided in 
anyone before.  “People do not like being told that they are wrong, Estel, that 
is one thing that will do you well to know.  They like to believe in themselves, 
think that they are right no matter what the subject, and while I may be a so 
called ‘powerful and convincing’ diplomat, I have not the support nor love that 
people tend to believe.” Sighing to himself, he gave Estel time to think over 
what he had said, knowing that the human lingered on every word that he had 
spoken into the air, storing it to his memory for further reference.

“Humans do not like being told what to do by an Elf, and Elves do not like being 
advised by one of them who is still thought a mere child.  I may be able to 
convince them of the right way, to see what their errors are and to offer a 
better solution, but all it does is anger them, and, whilst they do normally 
take my advice, it is under their own name and accord that they carry it out.” 
The blond archer laughed at what he was next about to say, catching Estel off 
guard, “most are quite pleased to see me leave and dread when I return – much 
like Mithrandir who is often referred to as the bringer of bad news!”  

A comfortable silence fell upon the two as they both sat there, obviously 
engrossed in their own thoughts, and, when the silence was broken, it was Estel 
to voice his opinion.  “Well, then they are the fools.” He stated firmly, “if 
they are too blind to see your help as good, then they do not deserve it.  And 
if they do not open their eyes anytime soon, know that you can always come and 
aid me in Gondor, if the Valar should ever deem the right time for me to come 
forth.”

Nodding his thanks, Legolas just smiled at the ambitious young man.  The Elf 
knew that Estel knew of his true heritage as Lord Elrond had sent him a message 
before the event, asking for his advice on the subject.  At least one person was 
willing to hear what he had to say on matters and did not shun him for it.

“You will make a good king one day, Estel, but do not rush to it for no good 
will come of haste.”

“If I had parchment and quill, I would write down your words of wisdom so not to 
ever forget them!” Estel said with a smile that reached his eyes, almost 
lightening the dark orbs with his mirth.  “And if it means anything, I missed 
you when you left.  I may have been a child, but I pined over your absence for 
weeks, and still do – did since you are sitting in front of me now.” He laughed 
once more, as did Legolas, feeling his joyful mood once again returning to him. 
 “And I am glad that you came back!”

For a long moment, Legolas merely stared at Estel, seeing only truth in his eyes 
and for once the Elven prince was truly happy.  “Thank you, my friend, thank 
you.”

Estel bowed his head, sighed and stood.  “Come, dinner will be soon so we may as 
well get there early.”  

Just as he finished talking there was a knock at the door and a soft voice 
called out “Legolas?”

“Come in, Elrohir,” Legolas called, easily being able to distinguish the younger 
twins voice for the hidden merriment that it always carried.  Both Legolas and 
Estel heard the door swing open and soft footsteps cross to the balcony.  

“Ah,” the middle son of Elrond exclaimed at the sight of Estel standing above 
the seated Legolas, “I see he found you already and I offer my sincere apologies 
for that.” Smiling and turning to Estel, he shook his finger at the human, “you 
better not have been sucking on his ear again!”

Rolling his eyes, Estel gave Legolas a forged worried look, “see what I mean?”  

Standing, Legolas just looked between the two.  Elrohir and Elladan had been his 
closest friends for Valar knows how long, and Estel, he could see, was fast 
becoming someone who he could easily grow to like and trust.  Turning to the 
door and walking inside, Legolas called over his shoulder, “I worry about both 
of you at times.”

“Hey!” they both protested at the same time, shooting each other puzzled glances 
when they heard each others exact reply.  

“Creepy,” Elrohir exclaimed while walking inside, leaving Estel standing out on 
the veranda alone.

“Weird,” he muttered as he followed his brother, vaguely aware of Legolas’ 
laughter ringing about the walls from inside the sleeping chamber.  It was good 
to have the prince back, to have his voice fill the air and his presence seemed 
to light even the dark night.  It was strange, that such a serious looking being 
with so many concerns and troubles playing upon his mind, could lift the mood of 
anyone if they cared to look at him for who he was and not what he was.  

As Legolas called out for them to escort him to dinner, Estel only hoped that 
the news that the archer carried with his arrival was not anything that would 
take him away again too soon.  

“Come now, I think appearing at dinner with you two would not be to ‘unseemly’ 
as Culdôr would put it!” the Elf laughed over his shoulder as he tucked a small 
knife that he always carried into his boot.  

“Oh Valar,” Elrohir moaned, “do not tell me that he is here?”

“Oh yes,” Legolas said sarcastically, with a false smile planted upon his pale 
features, “he is here – he is always here!  Always checking up on what the 
renegade prince of Mirkwood is doing – ‘tis his only thrill in life, I believe, 
proving me wrong and trying to turn me into a meek little prince who sits upon 
his throne with his mouth shut!”

“Who’s Culdôr?” Estel questioned the whining Elves as he stood in the doorway of 
the balcony.  
 
“This is going to be interesting!” Elrohir confirmed.  “I still remember the 
last argument that you, he and father got into on your last visit!”

“Very interesting indeed!” agreed Legolas as the younger of the twins playfully 
pushed him out the door.

“Come now, little Elf, act smart, you are a prince and should therefore be a 
role model, do not slouch and get that look off your face,” Elrohir mocked, 
impersonating the voice and posture of Culdôr, yet going completely over the 
top.  Legolas’ laughter filled the abandoned corridor and rose higher as Elrohir 
continued to mock the way that Culdôr bullied the prince into being proper.  

“Who’s Culdôr?” Estel once again questioned no body in particular, having been 
left behind in the blonde’s room.  Sighing, he made for the door, closed it 
behind him and followed the laughter of the prince as he was literally pushed 
down the hall by Elrohir, who was all the while raving about how improper 
Legolas was and that he should not travel alone or go anywhere without a 
representative or escort. 

If Elrohir was indeed doing this Culdôr any justice, Estel had already made up 
his mind to hate him.  Shaking his head at the two Elves, he followed them as 
quickly as possible, all the while muttering to himself, “and they think I have 
problems!”

*****

OH!!!!  AND A WORD OF ADVICE:  take note of everything in this chapter!  It 
comes back to bit people in the ass next chapter and there is a few tell tail 
signs of something to happen next chapter!!! 
*****

The Eaters of the Dead

Chapter Three

Emotions of the Past

*****


When Estel had finally caught up with the two Elves, he found them walking in 
silence and, if possible, both behaving in a ‘just and proper manner’.  The only 
conclusion that the young man could draw due to this change of appearance was 
the fact that they were about to round the corner to the dining hall.  From 
where they were they could already hear the bustle of excitement excreting from 
the large room, suggesting the proceedings of the night were well underway.   

Table upon table lined the hall, each back to back with another and lined with 
seats from head to foot.  The room was brightly lit with hundreds of candles; 
each finely made for such an occasion and small, oil fueled lanterns flickered 
from their fixed positions on the sides of the wall.  The aroma of both cooked 
and fresh food alike drifted through the air, reaching the noses of the three 
companions that stood at the doorway, looking in.  All in all, the room would 
have had a lovely, tranquil effect if it were not for the many people that 
crowed the space, or the judgmental glare that Legolas could feel on him from 
across the room; obviously Culdôr. 

Leaning over, Elrohir whispered into Legolas’ ear, making sure to keep his voice 
loud enough so not to leave Estel out, “I said it once, and I say it again; this 
shall be interesting!” 

Frowning and gently lashing out to hit the Rivendell Elf across the shoulder, 
Estel cast a look in Legolas’ direction.  “Elrohir!  Stop it!  You will make him 
nervous!”

“Both of you stop it!” Legolas hissed between clenched teeth, trying not to 
laugh at the way the young human scolded his centuries older foster brother.  
“Come, let us please Culdôr – or at least try.”

Nodding their agreement, all three moved silently into the hall, making sure to 
bow to all the important people that they came across; acting in the right and 
proper ways of nobility.  

Leading Legolas to the head table, Elrohir paid careful attention in sending 
Culdôr his most dazzling and rather immature smile, just to see the reaction the 
elder Elf had to such an act of indecency.   At the look of demur that was 
returned, Elrohir felt as if he had accomplished something and, with his head 
high, he continued to lead his human brother and their guest to their seats.  

“Ah,” at voice said from behind the trio, “I was starting to fear that my little 
twin had lead you both astray!” Elladan teased as he came up smiling.

“Would I ever?” Elrohir questioned, a look of pure and yet completely forged 
innocence on his face.  Needless to say that the looks that he received from his 
company put a stop to any other protests that he may have had on the subject.   
Raising his eyebrows and turning away, Elrohir swiftly changed the subject, “so, 
Legolas I do believe that you are to be seated to the left of me, and Estel, you 
are next to him.  Elladan, you are on the other side of father.”

Nodding his agreement, Legolas moved in the direction of his seat, knowing that 
Elrohir had always been the one to organize anything and everything within his 
jurisdiction.  

Taking a seat, Legolas looked about him in interest.  As usual, Elrohir had done 
a marvelous job at keeping him separate from the other Mirkwood Elves; Culdôr 
was two seats down from Elladan and on the opposite side of the table, Dúelen 
was on his left, while Rastur was opposite him.  Gilnen was seated next to 
Elladan.  The two had become friends on Legolas’ last visit over an unseemly bet 
that, surprisingly enough, was won by Elrohir by complete accident.  

Pleased with the arrangements thus far, Legolas saw that, sitting in front of 
where Elrond was to be seated was Glorfindel, in front of Elrohir was Galdor, 
from the havens, and yet the seat in front of him was yet to be filled.  

Inclining his head to his dinner companions, Legolas turned to Estel who had 
taken his seat next to him.  “When will the Lord Elrond be arriving?” Legolas 
asked, his eyes full of a sudden curiosity that Estel could not explain.

“He will be here soon,” Estel smiled, “why do you ask?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Legolas looked around the room idly, “no reason, ‘tis 
just been a long time since I have last seen him.”

The noise of a chair scrapping over the floor brought Legolas’ eyes to the 
position in front of him, and, at whom he saw sitting down before him, his smile 
widened to one of pure joy.  “Erestor!”

“Legolas, my friend, it feels as if it has been forever!” Erestor exclaimed, his 
own smile reaching his ears and eyes.  Leaning over to lock arms with the 
younger Elf in a warrior’s embrace, he looked the other up and down in a rather 
fatherly manner.  “You look well – much better then last time!”   

Legolas smiled his agreement and nodded his head slightly ere turning the 
conversation and leaving Estel to wonder about his father’s advisors statement. 
 “It has been forever, Erestor, how goes all with you and yours?”

Feeling that he should leave the two Elves to catch up in private, Estel stood 
and went to crouch down beside Elrohir who was busily talking with Elladan and 
Gilnen about the Mirkwood Elves journey.  Politely cutting in, Estel asked the 
question that had been plaguing him for quite some time.

“So, how do you all know Legolas?” 

All three turned to him with a slight questioning look and yet no one said 
anything.  After a few moments of silence, Estel once again spoke, asking 
another question, “Erestor said something about Legolas looking better this time 
that last, what happened last time he was here?”

Elrohir looked from Elladan to Gilnen, then back to Estel.  “You would have been 
too young to remember,” he said quietly and with a sense of wistfulness.  

“Then tell me!” Estel pressed, wanting to know what had happened.

“A long time before you were born,” Elrohir started to explain, “and before our 
mother went over the sea, Legolas came to live here –”

“Well,” Gilnen interrupted, “he was more sent here by Culdôr than anything.’

“True,” Elladan agreed ere he continued, “it was Culdôr’s belief that Legolas 
should be taught the ways of war and weaponry by Glorfindel and schooled by our 
mother, father and Erestor.”

“It was basically a foster arrangement,” Elrohir offered at the baffled look on 
Estel’s face.  Nodding his understanding, Estel waited for them to continue.  

“As it turned out,” Elladan went on, “Legolas loved it here-“

“Which infuriated Culdôr!” Elrohir again interrupted.  

“Look,” Elladan said while turning to his younger brother with a smile, “if you 
want to tell this you can, but otherwise keep quiet for ten seconds!”  his words 
were said with a well trained forged malice, and yet his eyes could not hide his 
joke, so Elrohir merely poked out his tongue and waved his brother on with his 
right hand.  

“As I was saying, he liked it here and was quick to learn all that we had to 
offer.  When Culdôr found out that he was doing well and not pining over his 
home, he twisted Thranduil into calling Legolas home.”

“I believe that this is where I come into the story telling time,” Gilnen said 
after Elladan had looked to him to take over.  “As it turned out, Legolas missed 
it here so much that he was upset for years.  That was when the prince started 
to run into a few problems; he was always pale, sick and, if at all possible, 
weak.  Some said that he was dying of grief, and so he was given the job of 
envoy to our allies in hopes of lifting his spirits by traveling.”

“But it did him no good,” Elrohir cut in again, this time purposefully to annoy 
Elladan who took a swipe at the younger Lord.  Ducking, Elrohir managed to avoid 
any serious harm yet was not spared from the glare that his twin sent him.

“After many years,” Gilnen continued, conveniently ignoring the two, “I do 
believe that it was about two years before you were born, Legolas deteriorate 
rapidly.  We did not know what to do, so, we brought him back here and placed 
him under the watchful eyes of Lord Elrond.”

“And that is how he came to be here when you were brought to us,” Elrohir filled 
in the blanks.

Allowing himself a moment to sort out all the new information in his head, Estel 
found that there was still one thing that did not fit quite right.  “So why did 
Legolas like it so much here?”

It was Elrohir that chose to answer that one, and, sending a quick look over to 
the blond Elf taking with the chief advisor of Rivendell, he said, “Elrond 
became like a father to him, a father that he had never had before.”

Taking his turn to cut into Elrohir’s recital, Gilnen thought it best if he 
finished the tale.  “Thranduil was always more interested in the ways of state 
and profitable gain then his son.  Also, Legolas is,” looking over at the Elf in 
question, he smiled briefly before turning his eyes back to Estel’s, “looking at 
Legolas is like his mother looking into a mirror.  The resemblance is uncanny 
and I think that that was what coxed Thranduil into pushing his only son away as 
Legolas’ mother died in childbirth.”

Finally seeing how everything fit into place, Estel just nodded.  He could not 
help but feel sorry for the prince, even though he knew that Legolas would not 
want his pity, but it must have been hard growing up alone and with no one there 
for him.  Legolas’ question about when Elrond would get there would have due to 
the Lord’s father like status to the Elf and Erestor would have been referring 
to the state in which Legolas was brought back to Rivendell before he himself 
was there.   

“So the argument that you mentioned before, Elrohir, the one between Legolas, 
Culdôr and father was really the two against Culdôr?”

“Of course!” Elladan almost shrieked, “father hates that Elf and you know that 
he is not one to hate someone for no reason!”

“What was it over?” Estel asked, thoroughly intrigued by this new found 
information.

Elrohir looked to Elladan and then back to Gilnen again, both who merely 
shrugged.  

“We may as well tell him,” Elladan muttered, “his is likely to hear more on the 
subject tomorrow at the council so we may as well make sure that he hears the 
truth.”

Nodding his agreement, Elrohir started to explain.  “Once again you would have 
been too young to remember, but after Legolas came here for the second time, 
Culdôr came back demanding that Legolas return home and to his duties as 
Mirkwood’s diplomat.  None of us wanted the prince to leave and neither did he 
so it resulted in a argument that will go down in history – even we got 
involved!” he added for emphasis while motioning to his brother and himself.  
“In the end, Culdôr practically dragged Legolas out of here, threatening to 
renounce his crown – which Legolas told him to take!”

“Which, mind you,” Gilnen supplemented, “did not go down well with his father.”

“And that was the last time that we ever saw him, until now and this is on 
apparent business that he will not even tell us about.” Elladan finished the 
tale off and left Estel with more to think about then before.  If Legolas had 
told Culdôr to take his crown, why did he still get taken back, and just who was 
Culdôr to be able to threaten such an act?  

The young man was about to ask about this Culdôr again when he saw the head of 
his father over the crowd and coming into the hall.  Leaving his questioning for 
later, the man rose and moved back to his seat to find Legolas and Erestor still 
talking of the old days.  The prince greeted him with a warm smile as he sat, 
and, settling for watching the two Elves converse, Estel felt no need to break 
the conversation.  

As Elrond came into the hall and rounded the table to his seat, he smiled down 
at the back of the busily talking prince of Mirkwood, and standing behind him 
until the prince realized that he had company, he exchanged amused looks with 
Glorfindel.  He could see that down the other end of the table, Culdôr was 
glaring up at the prince for not noticing the entrance of the Lord of the house, 
and it was with a slight snarl and upturned lip that Elrond met the other Elf’s 
eyes.  

Feeling eyes on the back of his neck, Legolas spun around to be greeted by a 
smiling Elrond.  Rising quickly to his feet, Legolas smiled and extended his 
hand to the Lord, only to find it brushed aside and him being pulled into a 
friendly embrace.

“How are you fairing, Legolas?” Elrond asked quietly while squeezing the thin 
blond Elf.  

“I am good, Lord Elrond!” Legolas replied while returning the squeeze, “it does 
me good to see you again.”

Pushing the archer back, Elrond held him by the shoulders and looked him over, 
much the same way as Erestor had a few minutes ago.  “You look well and that is 
good, little prince,” he said with a smile that was mirrored by Legolas’ own.  
Elrond was the only one that he could stand calling him ‘little prince’ as, for 
some reason, when Elrond said it, it was more out of love then a taunt or way of 
reprimand that Culdôr would use.  “We must talk after dinner!” Elrond announced 
and Legolas merely nodded his agreement to the offer.  

Letting the younger Elf go, Elrond squeezed Estel’s shoulder and smiled down at 
him ere moving to his seat and greeting his two biological sons.    

“My prince,” a voice called and Legolas looked across the table to see a dark 
haired Elf sitting there and offering his hand.  Reaching out and shaking it, 
Legolas concluded that this Elf must be a warrior and more skilled with a sword 
then bow by the strength in his arm and his slightly calloused hand.  “I am 
Arlhach, a border guard of Rivendell.  It is a pleasure to make your 
acquaintance.”  

Smiling at the Elf, Legolas was somewhat unsure of what to say to this perfect 
stranger, and, Erestor, seeing this, came to Legolas’ aid.  

“Arlhach here is a student of mine,” he said, supplying Legolas with a little 
more information on the mystery Elf.

“Erestor talks of your greatness in debate as if it were a Valar sent,” Arlhach 
said with a smile, “I have long wanted to meet you to see if the rumors were 
true.”

Smiling and giving Erestor a questioning look, Legolas poured himself a goblet 
of wine and offered it around the table.  “Erestor, I hear, also has a knack for 
blowing simple things out of proportion, so do not be quick to believe 
everything that he says!”  His statement caused a laugh from the Elf in mention, 
as well as Arlhach and Estel.  

“So, will I have the honor of seeing you in action this visit?” the border guard 
asked, his eyes dancing with a joy that Legolas found encouraging.  At least he 
obviously loved what he did; what he was being taught and the prince was almost 
glad to reply.

“I am afraid that that is a yes,” Legolas informed the Elf, who, at the 
affirmation of his question, smiled even larger.  

“And here was I thinking that you were afraid of nothing!” Elrohir quickly 
butted in, having only caught the last part of the conversation.  “I must 
remember to tell Elladan to stop telling my innocent and gullible ears such 
lies!”

Shaking his head, Legolas could not hide his amusement.  The youngest of the 
twins was by far the person that he would label his best friend, even above 
Gilnen and the prince relished the fact that Elrohir could always make him 
laugh, even in the worst of situations.   From the merry chucking that floated 
across the table, Legolas also got a sense that, given the chance to know him, 
he might find friendship with this new study of Erestor’s.  

“What innocence, my young Lord?” Erestor questioned with a smirk, “I was under 
good impressions that you lost that at the very moment you were born – though, 
come to think of it, I do believe that ‘twas Elladan that told me that one too!” 
 

“I heard that!” a voice called from further up the table, unmistakably 
Elladan’s, and sent the five talking Elves into a fit of laughter.  

“My point is proven!  I say no more!” Elrohir said while raising his hands and 
smiling cheekily at the ones sitting near him.

“That would be the day!”  Elladan called down again, obviously now listening to 
the group’s conversation.  

Elrond merely shook his head at his son’s and friends as they laughed heartily 
again.  Even if he had wanted to, he would not have had the heart to put a stop 
to the banter that they always engaged in – besides, it had been a long time 
since he had seen the blond Elf that he thought of as a son so happy.  

Taking another sip of his wine, Legolas looked around the tables, seeing Elves 
that he recognized from his last visits and some that he did not.  Looking down 
the table, he was pleased to see that Culdôr had turned to eating his diner in 
silence and given up glaring at the laughing prince and that Gilnen was now 
engrossed in conversation with Elladan.  Sweeping his eyes back up the table, he 
was not at all surprised to find that Rastur’s gaze was locked onto him, his 
dark eyes taking in every movement and missing nothing.  Even though it was not 
as surprising to find him watching him, Legolas still found it above suspicious 
and rather disturbing, but, while in the company of Culdôr and Dúelen there was 
nothing that he could do on the subject that would not bring their wrath down on 
his head.  

Turning his mind from such disturbing thoughts, Legolas sat back and listened to 
the friendly banter that was exchanged around the table, feeling like, for once, 
he fit in and had a place.  

*****

Walking out of the hall with Estel, the twins, Gilnen and Arlhach, Legolas felt 
at ease and happy.  Stifling a yawn, the prince of Mirkwood bid good night to 
the twins and his traveling companion as they made their way off to their bed 
chambers.

Walking down the halls, Legolas and Estel listened to the quiet chatter of 
Arlhach as he filled them in on what had been happening on the borders and the 
lands surrounding Rivendell.  When the time came for them to part ways, Arlhach 
gave Legolas a sweeping bow ere he took his leave, blending into the night like 
one could a mist covered moor.

“Now, my friend, I must take leave of you,” Legolas stated formally, “I am off 
to reassure your father of my wellbeing.”  

“Lots of luck to you!” Estel replied with a smile, finally understanding why 
Legolas would be doing such a thing.  “He has a way of worrying no matter how 
much you prove,” he offered with a grin before he turned and slowly made his way 
down one of the long halls.  

Turning and heading for Elrond’s study, Legolas took his time, enjoying the way 
that the air flowed freely though the great halls of the Last Homely House.  It 
was so different to Mirkwood and her darkened woods.  Thranduil had long since 
moved their kingdom into the side of a hill, making the chambers stretch 
underground so to provide safety from the evils that lurked at every bend.  Even 
though the palace was aired and the ceiling high, Legolas could not help but 
feel a sense of claustrophobia set in when in his own home, especially after 
spending so much time in this open place.  

Inhaling one last gulp of the fresh air, the prince of Mirkwood knocked on the 
large doors to Elrond’s study and when he heard the Lord grant his entrance, 
Legolas opened the door and went in, ready to prove to his father by choice that 
he was fine.  

*****

Hours had passed since he had retired to his rooms and still Estel could not 
sleep.  He had heard Legolas return about an hour after he himself had entered 
his rooms and he wondered how the Elf was fairing.  It was not what he feared 
what Elrond might do or say, but the fact that, in all probability, Legolas 
would have had to bring up painful memories of the past so Elrond could come to 
his conclusion on the prince’s wellbeing.  

Sighing slightly, he rose from his bed and pulled an old cloak around his 
shoulders.  Moving over to his door, he opened it and moved across the hallway 
silently.

Knocking softly on the door of the prince so not to disturb him if he was 
asleep, Estel was rather surprised to find the door open in a matter of moments, 
revealing the still dressed prince.

Stepping aside to allow the human entrance to his rooms, Legolas noticed Estel’s 
worried gaze and smiled at him, trying to ease his mind as he shut the door.  

“Have you not slept?” Estel asked, the concern evident in his voice and touching 
the Elf in a way that made him automatically smile.  It was not like most people 
to ask after him, the only questions that he was asked where how to better 
expand someone’s kingdom with minimal financial expense or something of the 
like.  It was nice to know that someone cared after his wellbeing and not who he 
was or what he was good at.  That was why he felt such fondness towards Elrond 
and the way that he fathered him like one should their child.  

“I could ask the same about you!” Legolas pointed out with a smile, “but nay, I 
have not slept.” Seeing Estel’s concern heighten, the Elf merely chuckled and 
started to walk towards the balcony, “I am fine, just not tired.  I do not tire 
like you humans – you should know that!  But come, enough of this, ‘tis a lovely 
night so and I would be honored if you would join me on the balcony.”

Thinking that it would be a lovely idea, Estel followed him out and took the 
same seat that he had been sitting in earlier that evening.  Looking out over 
the railing, Estel was struck with the beauty that Rivendell supplied once 
again.  He had lived there all his life and yet he was still not used to the way 
that everything seemed to have a place and a duty, binding the small haven 
closely together and making it perfect.  

The lanterns from earlier that night still burned in the trees, this time 
standing out more in the lack of light.  Further away through the woods, larger 
fires could be seen, obviously used by those on border watch, and off to the 
right one could see the lights of other rooms adjacent to the Homely House.   
The waterfall that ran under the marble balcony reflected the lights in the 
trees and the stars on its gushing surface, while the white froth was 
beautifully highlighted by the random streak of phosphorus.  The bank provided a 
home to clusters of buzzing fireflies, their little golden and sliver tails 
lighting their position like miniature stars fallen to earth while creating 
lines of light in their wake as they fluttered here and there, some even on the 
balcony and flying around the pair that sat in silence.  

Looking over to his companion, Estel wondered what was going through Legolas’ 
mind.  The Elf was a strange one, always so serious and yet so lighthearted and 
playful at times that it would seem that he was a completely different person.  
Deciding to break the comfortable silence, Estel sighed and licked his lips.  
“Why did you not ask me what I wanted at the door?”  He asked the Elf that sat 
before him, the moon and the small bugs illuminating the gold of his hair and 
making the silver of his tunic seem real.

Looking over at the young human, Legolas smiled and gave a little chuckle.  “Of 
course you would be too young to remember.” He said ere looking back out at the 
fire-lit night.  “When you were little and I was still here, you would come into 
my room at night if you had a nightmare.  You were quite the adventurous little 
one, always wandering here and there and getting into trouble – half the time me 
with you.”  The Elf stopped to laugh and looked over at the man, showing that it 
was not of a serious manner.  

“You would come into my room to play with my hair or ears, ‘twas the only thing 
that would calm you down!  No matter how hard Elrohir, Elladan or even Elrond 
tried, you would not go to them, only me.”  Offering Estel another smile, 
Legolas concluded, “so I was not surprised when you came in here tonight.”

“I remember some of that,” Estel confirmed, “but not all.  I do recall coming 
here a lot, and sitting with you on this very balcony.  You were different – to 
all the other Elves.  You had time for me and I loved you for that.  You would 
always make the time to play a game, or just sit there with me and not worry 
about anyone else.  Elladan and Elrohir were great as well, but they were busy 
learning things of state and importance so they often did not have time for me, 
but you, you always did.”

“It was good to have someone need me for other purposes then to work out a 
matter that, to them seemed complex but was really the work of a simpleton if 
they but opened their eyes.”  Legolas confessed.  

Slipping back into comfortable silence, the two just sat there and watched the 
night unfold and run its course.  The moon moved across the sky, its path easily 
kept track of by the two using its reflection in the ever running water.  Most 
of the lights to the right were snuffed out, the room’s occupants obviously 
turning in for the night and retreating to the world of Elven dreams.  

Looking once again to his friend, Estel asked out of the blue, “what do you 
want, Legolas?”

Turning quickly and giving the human an inquiring look, the Elf knotted his brow 
in confusion.  “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Estel started, “do not be offended, but Elrohir, Elladan and Gilnen told 
me about what happened…before I was brought here,” Estel paused to get the 
others consent.

“I figured as much, by the way that you asked after me at the door with your 
eyes,” Legolas said to put the man’s heart at ease, “and it is alright, you 
would have found out sooner or later, and I am just glad that ‘twas they that 
told you.”

Nodding slightly, Estel went on with his explanation of his question.  “Well, if 
you ask me, which I know you didn’t, but it just seems that it was not just your 
father’s neglect that made you ill.”

“And what makes you think that, young one?” Legolas questioned without a hint of 
malice in his voice, obviously willing to hear the others point of view on the 
situation.

“Well, you come across as independent, so I feel that such lack of watchfulness 
would have suited you.  And then there is the fact that you are always saying 
that it is good to be needed for some other purpose then for your famed 
diplomatic skills, so I guess I just thought that maybe you are not doing what 
you want to do, but what others want.”

A long pause followed, and Estel was in no mind to hurry the prince with his 
answer.  When, at last, Legolas did speak, the Elf had his head turned up 
towards the sky, the stars lighting the small yet sad smile that played upon his 
face.

“For a human,” he said softly, “you are very perceptive.”

“So I am right?” Estel asked, rather surprised at that fact and that the prince 
admitted it.

“Yes, you are right,” was the concise reply.  

“So, what do you want to do, Legolas, if not this, then what?  What would make 
you happy?”

“Happy?” the Elf asked, letting out a sigh, “I am happy, I just know that I 
could be happier.  As to what I want, you would laugh!”

“Try me!”

Looking down at the young man, Legolas saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes 
which was quite a welcome change.  “Alright,” the Elf said, “I would like to 
write.  To travel Middle-Earth and record what I see.  I like the life of a 
warrior and I feel that there is no need to change that, but I am sick of 
solving everyone else’s’ problems, especially when they are so foolish.  I would 
hope that I would always do the right thing and help those in need, but I see no 
righteousness in aiding a tyrant in taxing his workers further so he may live in 
squander.   And so I would like to write.  I have no wish to be a bard or 
anything of the sort, but just to paint what I see with words so that others may 
benefit and find joy in the things in life that they may never get the chance to 
look upon for themselves.”  Letting out another sigh and turning his gaze back 
to the stars, Legolas closed his eyes, allowing the gentle touch of the 
water-vapor filled water caress his face and the light of the fires and 
fireflies dance behind his closed eye-lids.  “Do you think me a fool?”

“No, not a fool, nor a dreamer,” Estel stated surly and sternly, “Earlier this 
afternoon you offered me some of the best advice that I have ever been given, 
and now it is my turn to return the favor.  I would think you a fool if you did 
not do it.  Stop what you are doing and do as you please, not what others want.”

“”Tis easier said then done, my friend,” Legolas said solemnly.    

“If that was not the case then where would the challenge lie?”  Estel questioned 
with a contagious smirk.  Both looked to each other and smiled, glad that they 
were able to open up to one another without fear of ridicule.  Neither was a 
stranger of being left out or not fitting in and both were glad that they had 
finally found someone who understood them for their thoughts and dreams and not 
laughed it off as being folly. 

“Come,” Estel said while standing up and offering a hand to the prince, “walk 
with me.”

Taking the offered hand, Legolas stifled another yawn that did not go unmissed 
by Estel.  “Or maybe I shall escort the prince to bed!”  He said with a high and 
mightily look upon his face, as if it were the most important job in the world, 
while giving a slight bow and offering his arm to the Elf.  Puffing his chest 
out and putting his nose ridiculously high in the air, Estel tried to keep a 
straight face as he waited for Legolas to take his arm.

Giving into the laughter that wanted to break through, Legolas took the humans 
arm and allowed the man to escort him to the side of his bed while trying to 
school his face back into that of an undefined emotion. 

“My Lord,” Estel said while dropping his hand and pulling down the corner of the 
bed.  Reaching around and taking the Elf’s arm again, he helped him sit on the 
edge of the bed and knelt to aid the Elf in the removal of his boots.  Once that 
job was done, he held the blankets up high enough so Legolas, still clothed in 
his dining tunic, could slip in under the blankets with ease.  Pulling the dyed 
fabric over the Elf’s shoulders and tucking it in slightly around the thin body, 
Estel whispered, “I remember when you used to do this to me – escort me to bed 
and tuck me in!”

“I wondered where I knew this from,” Legolas chuckled while Estel fluffed up the 
other pillow.  

Allowing his face to once again go impassive and yet snobby, Estel looked down 
his nose at the prince, and, turning his voice deeper, said, “sleep well, my 
prince,” causing Legolas’ shoulders to once again shake with silent laughter.  

Walking over to the door, still looking self important, Estel opened it silently 
and, pausing just enough to look back at his friend he exited the room only to 
pop his head in a second later and say, “you were the perfect prince – Culdôr 
would be proud!”  

Resisting the urge to throw a pillow at Estel’s head, Legolas settled for poking 
his tongue out in a sign of immaturity, causing both to laugh.  

“Sleep well, Legolas,” Estel chuckled out while pulling the door closed behind 
him.  

Deciding to still go for his walk, Estel aimlessly wandered the corridors of the 
Homely House, admiring everything that he passed as if it were his first 
sighting.  Coming to the end of a hall that lead to the round, first room of the 
House, Estel paused in his walking, listening to the wind for what he thought 
were voices.

Having his suspicions proved right, he crept along the hall, wanting to know 
what was happening and who was up at such a time.  As he got closer, he was able 
to identify one voice as that of Erestor, his father’s chief advisor, and yet 
the other voice was alien to him.  Risking a peek around the corner, he saw that 
it was the dark-haired Elf that Legolas had arrived with.  

“I see you came with him,” Erestor stated, “then it is going well?”

“Aye,” the other replied, “though I do not know what this will achieve.”

“It is what he asks, so it should not be questioned,” Erestor bit out, his voice 
not harsh but commanding.

“But the prince suspects something.  ‘Tis not easy you know, what he asks!  Not 
without being caught or drawing attention.”

“And he is grateful for what you are doing, and glad to see that it is working. 
 But you must keep to your pledge!”

“I have no intention of breaking it,” the other said firmly, “I am just warning 
you to tell him that it is getting harder to do as he asks, especially with 
*them* around him.”  

“Just do the best you can, that is all he asks.”

Bowing slightly, the Mirkwood Elf replied, “and that is what I shall do,” ere he 
turned on his heels and walked down the corridor to the left of the pair which 
Estel knew housed his room.  Erestor looked after him, a look of worry on his 
face, and, turning around himself, started to walk in the direction of Estel.

Biting his lip and moving as quickly as he could while still being silent, Estel 
hurried around the corner and into the hall that lead to his own room.  Upon 
reaching the door, he opened it silently, hoping not to disturb Legolas should 
he make too much noise, and stepped inside.  

Leaning his back against the wooden door and exhaling a deep sigh of relief, he 
made his way over to the bed.  Discarding the cloak that he wore, he slipped 
back under the covers, his mind racing with the words that he had just heard and 
what their meaning could be.  Knowing that whatever it was about, it somehow 
seemed to involve Legolas, he vowed to keep an eye on that other Elf and maybe 
even tell the twins so that they may help him look out for the prince.   It was 
worrying to know that whatever was happening included Erestor as, to Estel as 
well as all of Rivendell, the advisor was well liked and greatly respected – 
never even thought of being capable of a betrayal.  

Knowing that he would find no sleep that night, Estel just stared out of the 
large window at the twinkling stars and thought of possible ways to protect his 
new friend, as well as get him to do what he wanted with his own life.  

*****

The Eaters of the Dead

Chapter Four

The Council of the River City

*****

As the sun stretched forth her rays, gracing the world with her light, Legolas 
lay in a state half between consciences and sleep, neither wanting to wake to 
the world or acknowledge that the fact that he had to.  It was only through this 
delirious form of wakefulness that he half heard the door to his room being 
pushed slowly open. . .and yet he was not entirely sure if it was the door or 
not.  

A footstep moved across the floor, heading in his direction, and yet in his 
state it could have easily been the rustling of leaves in the trees outside.  

A sudden rush of air stirred his hair that lay spread out on the pillow, sending 
the fine strands of gold flicking over the Elven prince’s face.  Finally coming 
out of his trance like state, Legolas’ eyes, which had been unnaturally closed, 
snapped open just in time to see a blade plummet towards his chest.  

Hands acting quicker then sight, the prince caught his attacker’s wrist with his 
right and the long blade of the knife with his left, unheeding to the intense 
pain that shot through his palm as the steel sliced into the flesh.
 
Judging from the strength behind the attack, the would-be assassin was an Elf 
and from the firmness of the thin wrist they were well skilled in the arts of 
swordplay.  

Closing his eyes against the force of the attack and the small droplets of blood 
which were seeping from his own hand, Legolas had a brief flash of the 
dark-haired Elf from the dining hall, Arlhach.  He was tall and slender, firm 
hands as assessed from their handshake and, from what Legolas could tell, good 
with a sword.  

Glancing up at the face of the unknown Elf, Legolas found it covered by a simple 
cloth mask of black.  Cursing the stranger’s obvious intelligence, the prince 
started to arch his back, getting ready to shove the attacker off him.  
Unfortunately the other being was well aware that Legolas would try such an act 
and, letting his right hand fall from the dagger, he applied a swift punch to 
the blonde’s stomach thus effectively stopping any real form of resistance.  

Half curling in on himself, Legolas felt the Elf above him press down further 
with his hands, slowly brining the dagger closer and closer to his heart.  

It was with this horror in mind that two things happened.  Once again the right 
hand of the attacker moved from the dagger only to this time clamp around 
Legolas’ throat, squeezing in on the windpipe and causing the sufferer to gulp 
for air.

The other was a voice, quite unexpectedly, calling out from the other side of 
the locked door.  “Legolas?” Estel questioned while knocking on the door.  The 
door handle was jiggled only to find it safely locked, blocking all access into 
the room.  “I was the one to close the door,” Estel said, obviously to a third 
party, “I did not lock it.”

“Legolas?” a louder voice cried while a thumping on the door and Legolas’ heart 
picked up at the sound of Elrohir.  

Startled by the new players in the deadly game, the assassin chanced a quick 
glance towards the door, seeing it move against its frame as the pounding 
continued.  

Taking the small opportunity for all that it was worth, Legolas lashed out with 
his right leg, catching the standing figure in the left side.  Feeling the hand 
let up at his throat, he lashed out again, turning his body onto the side so to 
have a better and stronger swing.  

“Legolas?” it was Elladan this time, further lifting the prince’s spirits as he 
again kicked at the figure.  While his attacks were helping, the Elf seemed to 
know what he wanted, and even though he was being assailed in the side by the 
blond, he still did not completely remove his hand from Legolas’ throat or stop 
pressing down on the dagger.  

“Est-“ Legolas tried to call out but was effectively stopped by the hand 
tightening on his throat.  Feeling his head spin and seeing bursts of light 
before his eyes, Legolas felt himself slowly start to blackout. . .and still the 
hand pressed further into his throat…

*****

“Did you hear that?” Elrohir asked while pressing his pointed ear to the door.  
Looking to Elladan, he saw his twin nod his agreement and his brow knot in worry 
and concern.

“What?” Estel questioned, not having the better hearing of the Elves that stood 
on either side of him.  When neither replied, he shot each a panicked look ere 
repeating his question.  “What?”

“It sounded as if he called out your na-“ Elrohir stopped and pressed his ear 
closer to the door, his eyes enlarging at what he obviously heard from within 
that the others could not.  The Elf’s breathing deepened and started to come in 
slight pants as he listened intently while holding up his right hand to hush the 
other two of their questions.  

A chocking sound that all could hear was the thing that sent them whirling into 
action.  “By the Valar!” Elladan cursed while pounding on the door with renewed 
force.  “Legolas?”

Grabbing the Elves shoulders, Estel moved them away and started to ram the door 
with his shoulder, hoping the break the lock that still held fast.  

Looking around them, Elrohir bit his lip while Elladan called out again.  
“Legolas, hold on, we are coming!”  Sending a look to his younger twin, Elladan 
went to aid Estel in trying to snap the lock.  

“Keep going!” Elrohir commanded of them, “I’ll be back!”

“Where are you going?” Estel demanded while letting his right shoulder slam 
against the door once again.

Not even giving them an answer, Elrohir disappeared into Estel’s room.  Looking 
around frantically, he saw the human’s pack lying at the far corner, still in a 
half filled state.  Deciding that that would be his best bet, he hurried to it, 
rummaged through, and, smiling when he found what he was looking for, made his 
way to the other side of the room and the open balcony.

*****

As the door started to get pounded in, Legolas could see that his attacker was 
getting worried.  Acting upon this, he waiting until the masked Elf had once 
again looked to the door, and then aimed his kick a little higher in his last 
desperate attempt to gain control of the situation.  Catching the Elf in the 
left shoulder, he caught him completely off guard and sent the Elf wheeling 
back, his grip being torn from the prince’s throat.  Gasping as the dagger 
scraped the bones of his hand, Legolas used his right to plunge under his 
pillow, pulling out a bow-knife of his own.

Slowly standing, the archer was just on his feet when the other Elf rushed at 
him, dagger held high and all attempts of skill thrown out the window.  Falling 
backwards before the Elf reached him, Legolas lifted his feet and, as the Elf 
was about to straddle him, grabbed his forearms and shoved him right over his 
head to fall off the other side of the bed.  
 
Getting back on his feet, the prince moved around the bed, eager to defeat the 
intruder and find out their identity.  The other Elf was already on his feet, 
and knowing now that the prince was not to be taken lightly, approached this 
time with a little more caution.  

Circling each other, both tried to block out the frantic yelling that came from 
the other side of the door – as the ones lock out had heard the crashing sound 
of the other Elf falling to the floor – else they lose their concentration.  

Deciding to make the first move, Legolas moved in for the attack, and, ducking a 
swing of the others blade, came in behind the Elf and elbowed him between the 
shoulders.  The other spun on him and, before he had time to react, Legolas felt 
the dagger cut through his upper left arm, the blade tasting its second sample 
of blood from the prince.  

Grunting in frustration and pain, Legolas blocked another attack and sent his 
fist hard into the stomach of the Elf much as he had done to Legolas only 
moments before.  Following through with a well aimed kick to the same spot, the 
other Elf lost his balance and fell to the floor on his knees, one hand wrapped 
around his stomach while he desperately tried to get the air that he needed back 
into his lungs.  As the Elf doubled over, leaving Legolas with a wide opening in 
his defenses, Legolas took swing with his blade and then. . . 

Stopped.

Looking down on the Elf that was in pain and yet still watching the price with 
haunting eyes, Legolas knew that even after the attack and his attempted 
assassination he could not kill the other as he wished to do to the prince.  
That was the difference between them, one was a killer by nature and the other 
was a killer by necessity and not revenge.  

Both stared at each other, eyes locked onto the others, seeing into one 
another’s minds and hearts and if it were not for the door suddenly crashing 
open and setting off a mêlée of confusion, they most probably would have stayed 
that way, seizing up each others strengths and weaknesses.  

As Elladan and Estel burst into the room, breaking the mental battle between the 
two, the other Elf jumped to his feet and strongly shoved the unsuspecting 
prince back, sending him wheeling and into Estel, who only just managed to keep 
them from both falling to the ground.  Turning and fleeing towards the window, 
the other Elf was closely followed by Elladan who, after risking a quick look to 
his human brother and his Elven friend, pulled out his own dagger, intending to 
end this once and for all.

As the Elf took flight towards the balcony, he ran full pelt into Elrohir, who, 
after taking a rope from Estel’s pack and jumping off his balcony, had lassoed 
it around one of the railings of the prince’s balcony and had climbed up, also 
intending to put a stop to whatever was happening.  

Seeing the new arrival as a threat, the masked Elf lifted his dagger and 
charged, a battle cry on his lips.

Coming in at the last moment, to say that Elrohir was slightly confused by the 
scene before him was an understatement.  Legolas seemed fine – a little shaken 
and blood splattered but alive – and was still being held tightly by Estel who 
was wide eyed and looking from Elladan to Legolas with worry.  Elrohir also 
observed that Elladan was charging at the masked Elf much the same way as the 
mask Elf was now officially charging at him, both with their knives held high 
and wearing the same expression of hate in their eyes.  

Elrohir mentally stopped. . . wait, masked Elf charging at him. . . knife held 
high. . . not good.  

Eyes opening to become wider then Estel’s, Elrohir had no time to draw a weapon, 
and so settled for throwing himself to the side and pressing his back up against 
the wall as the crazed Elf ran past, turning his head to see where his intended 
victim had disappeared to.  

Obviously deciding that Elrohir was not worth going back and facing Elladan 
over, the masked Elf kept running out onto the balcony and, with a futile look 
over his shoulder, jumped off and into one of the trees on this side of the 
bank.  He had completely vanished by the time that Elladan had reached the open 
area, and, seeing no point in attempting to chase after him when his friend 
could need his help, he turned and went back inside while returning his knife to 
his boot, his face back to the normal impassive look of an Elven noble.

Still standing pressed up against the wall; Elrohir saw the look of 
transformation on his bother’s face and raised both eyebrows.  “Well,” he said, 
almost cheerily, “that was definitely a different way to start the morning!”

Shooting his brother a dangerous look, Estel tightened his arm around the 
prince’s waist and escorted him over to the bed.  Sitting the Elf down, he took 
his hand in his and inspected the deep and gushing cut.   “’Tis deep,’ he stated 
though it was hardly necessary.  Next he turned to the cut on Legolas’ arm and, 
biting his lip, he prodded the wound, ignoring the fait hisses that came from 
his patient.

“The point is to help him, not kill him!” Elrohir informed the young human while 
brushing him aside.  The two twins were in the ever tiring process of teaching 
their human brother the arts of healing, and it was proving to be a thing that 
tales would be made about for many years.  Estel was a wiling student but he was 
not as gentle as the Elves and had a habit of causing the wounded person more 
pain then soothing.    

“He was not that bad,” Legolas defended the human while allowing Elrohir to look 
at his arm.  The Elf was much gentler and the prince could barely feel the 
fingers that inspected the wound.  “Besides, he could use the practice.”

“So,” Elladan interrupted before they could get any further sidetracked.  “Care 
to fill us in?  What happened?”

Shaking his head, Legolas looked from one to the other.  “I do not rightfully 
know,” Legolas confirmed, “I remember you Estel, last night and I going to bed 
instead of walking with you, and then this morning – it was strange.  I knew 
what was happening but at the same time I did not.  The next thing I know, that 
Elf was standing over me with a knife and you were banging on the door.”  
Looking over to give Elladan his best confused look, Estel saw red marks around 
the prince’s neck, and, catching Legolas’ chin in his hands’, he tilted his head 
up and inspected them.

“He tried to strangle you?” he asked softly, concern unmistakable in his voice. 
 Legolas merely nodded his conformation as both Elrohir and Estel inspected the 
marks.

“I’ll get father,” Elladan offered, seeing that his twin and younger brother 
were busy and knowing that Elrond would have their heads if he was kept in the 
dark about this.  As he rounded the corner he literally walked right into 
Erestor and Rastur as they came tearing around the corner and into the room.  

“What happen?” Erestor demanded as he approached the prince and pushed the other 
two away so he could look over the blond himself.  Through all this, Legolas 
could not help but notice that, while everyone was taking their turn to ‘inspect 
his wounds’ no one was really doing anything to help him or stop the profoundly 
bleeding cut on his hand.  

“Legolas was att-“ Elrohir started to explain only to be cut off by Estel.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, having no regard for his superior.  After 
what he had witnessed the night before, Estel was in no mind to let Erestor get 
too close to the prince, and, pushing his way past the elder Elf so that he 
stood between him and Legolas, he spared a look over at Rastur.  The Elf seemed 
panicked, his breathing was labored and coming in short gasps and his face was 
flushed in such a way that anyone would have thought that he had run all the way 
from Mirkwood – or just fought with a skilled combatant.  

“Estel,” Elrohir hissed at the audacity of his little brother.  

Rethinking his first approach, Estel though it may be best if he did not allow 
Erestor and Rastur onto his suspicions.  Bowing slightly, Estel tried to make 
amends.  “My apologies, Erestor.  I only sort to protect the prince and know how 
it was that you got wind of the incident so fast.” Estel said, the picture of 
Elven nobility and perfection displayed across his face while holding back the 
want to say ‘since the only other person to know about this that has left this 
very room was the attacker.’

“We heard a loud crash – the sound of the door falling in,” Rastur answered for 
the advisor while stepping forward and towards Legolas.  Subtly blocking his way 
to the prince, Estel turned his attention to Elladan who had paused at the door. 
 

“Go find father,” he commanded, and was rather shocked when Elladan went without 
question or comment on Estel’s inability to command him around.  

Pushing the young man aside, Erestor knelt down in front on the prince, 
unheeding of the death looks that Estel shot him.   Taking the Elf’s face in 
hand, he lifted Legolas’ chin to look at the angry red marks that dotted the 
pale skin of his throat.  

“There is nothing I can do to stop the bruising, but it should be –“ his voice 
trailed off as he looked up into Legolas’ eyes.  Gripping the Elf’s chin again, 
he pulled the prince’s face down to his eye level and peered into the blue orbs.

“What is it?” Elrohir questioned while pushing off the wall that he had been 
standing against, his arms folded in front of his chest and his right leg bent 
so that his foot rested on the wall.  Coming to stand behind the advisor, he too 
looked down on the confused Elf and, biting his lower lip, knelt down and looked 
closer.

Erestor placed a hand on Legolas’ brow and the shock on his face was easily read 
as he felt the heat radiating off it.  “Elrohir, you are good with herbs, are 
you not?” he questioned quietly of the Elf next to him and this time it was 
Legolas who looked shocked as Elrohir nodded his head slowly.

“Why,” he asked cautiously at the same time as Estel asked the same question.

“What do you make of this?” Erestor asked the younger Elf while talking Elrohir 
hand and pressing it to Legolas’ brow.  Recoiling his hand from the heated skin, 
Elrohir looked up to Estel and beckoned him forward.

“Help me lay him down,” he commanded.  The two gently pushed an overly confused 
Legolas onto the bed and grabbed his legs, moving them so that he lay at a 
horizontal to the side of the mattress.  

“What is it?” Legolas asked and when he received no answer, he changed his tone 
to one more demanding, “What is it that you are not telling me?”

The two dark-haired Elves exchanged a worried glance, words being spoken with a 
mere look.  

Stepping forward, Elrohir sat down on the edge of the bed and pushed a stray 
lock of Legolas’ hair away from the Elf’s heated face.  “Legolas I think that 
you have been drugged,” he stated quietly and, knowing how the prince would 
react, he pressed his hands onto the other’s shoulder, keeping him pinned to the 
bed as Legolas struggled to sit up.

“What?” Estel half shrieked while moving forward and taking up Legolas’ wounded 
hand, inspecting it further for any tell tale signs of a poison.  

“No,” Erestor spoke softly as he gently pulled the Elf’s wounded hand from the 
human, “it looks as if it has been ingested.”

“You mean someone poisoned his meal?” Estel asked while shooting a worried look 
at Legolas, who was still struggling with Elrohir, reassuring the other Elf that 
he felt fine.  

“No, ‘tis not a poison,” Elrohir said pointedly while pressing Legolas down for 
the fourth time, “it looks as if it was just to knock his sense’s – make him 
weaker –“

“So that that Elf could attack him this morning with ease,” Estel concluded, 
catching onto the line of thought of the Elves.  

“Exactly,” Elrohir nodded, “look at Legolas’ eyes, they are dilated and large 
yet glassy, as if he were in Elven sleep but we all know that he is perfectly 
awake.  You can tell by the coloring,” he pointed at the red tinge at the 
corners of the normally clear eyed Elf as a way of a visual lesson for the young 
human, “the red is not normal in an Elf, even a tired one.”

“Will it do any damage?” Estel asked quietly while brushing a hand over his 
friend’s hot face, “I mean, is it deadly?”  His voice was soft and shaky, 
obviously worried about the Elf in question who just looked up at the four 
crowding around the bed.  

“No, he will be fine in a few hours and once we get some food into him.  ‘Twas 
the strike of the assassin that was set to finish him, not this.” As Elrohir 
said this, Estel took the opportunity to look to Rastur who had been standing 
quietly at the foot of the bed.  The human found it slightly strange that the 
Elf would have so little concern about his prince as to stand by and only watch, 
a look of mild interest plastered on his face.  At least Erestor seemed worried 
about Legolas’ condition, which was much more then what Estel could say about 
the other that he had heard talking last night.   

“What happened?” a commanding voice asked from the door as Elrond walked in with 
Elladan trailing behind.  Moving aside for the Lord, Erestor waited until Elrond 
was seated on the side of the bed and inspecting the young prince before 
offering his small explanation, allowing Elladan, Elrohir and Estel to add their 
own knowledge of that morning.  

Nodding his head as the story continued, Elrond turned to Elladan, “so you have 
no idea who it was?” 

Elladan shock his head dejectedly, “he had already taken to the trees by the 
time I got to the balcony and I did not want to leave incase he came back.”

“That is well,” Elrond reassured his eldest, and, at the look of obvious 
self-blame in Elladan’s eyes, Elrond, turned to the other’s, “Erestor, take 
Rastur with you and go get some food of the prince and Elrohir, take Estel to 
the healer and get something to treat these wounds, also something to rid the 
system of a large dose of Valerian.”  

“Valerian?” Elrohir asked inquisitively, not recognizing the herb. 

“Aye,” Elrond replied while sending another look into Legolas’ diluted eyes.  
“’Tis the only thing that would have caused such fatigue to overcome our young 
prince and yet not cause him any harm.  It would have been easily slipped into 
his food or added to his wine and would have gone undetected.”

All nodding their agreement and Elrohir in understanding, the four left, leaving 
only Legolas, Elrond and his eldest son in the room.  

“You can not blame yourself,” Legolas said softly before Elrond had the chance 
to say the same thing.  “You got in here in time, which is all that matters.”

Still seeing the self-loathing in Elladan’s eyes, Elrond added, “I could not 
have put it better myself.  He is alright and that is the best way to get back 
at the attacker, him having to know that his target is well and still on his 
feet.”

“Speaking of being on my feet,” Legolas said with a sigh, “if you two would 
excuse me, I have a council to dress for and win.”

“Are you sure that is wise?” Elladan asked from the other side of the room, his 
face holding a large degree of worry.  Seeing that Legolas was in no mind to 
answer, he shot a quick look to his father.  “Father?” he hissed, “surly you can 
not think this wise!”

“He is right, Legolas.  It is not a good idea, not after this,” Elrond said 
gently, trying not to put the Elf in a rage or making him feel as if he were 
being babied.  

“Or,” Legolas contradicted, “maybe it would be better if I tell my news sooner 
as then at least I will not find myself as the only target.”  Raising one 
eyebrow, he looked at the other two expectedly, knowing that he would win this 
one way or another.  

Sighing, Elladan looked to his father, who looked back at him and then to 
Legolas.  “Very well,” Elrond sighed, “have it your way and put us all in 
danger!” it was said in a kind way, not meaning to make the young archer feel 
bad about whatever this news was.  

“Thank you,” Legolas said with a large smile while pushing himself off the bed 
slowly so to not make his head spin too much. “Now, if you would both excuse me, 
I would like to have a bath before I once again am handed over to Estel and his 
‘healing’ techniques.”  

“Very well, little one,” Elrond said while ushering Elladan out of the door, 
“but he will be waiting out here!” he motioned to the oldest of his children who 
nodded his head in agreement and leaned up against the wall near Estel’s door.

“As you wish,” Legolas brushed the thought of a guard aside with a wave of his 
head, “but I am closing this!”  He said while poking his tongue out and shutting 
the door on their faces in a playful manner.  

“Youth!” Elrond murmured while walking down the corridor, earning a daggered 
look from Elladan as well as a small grunt from within the room of the prince.  

*****

 “Silence!” Elrond’s voice boomed off the walls and trees of the outside 
congressing area.  All eyes turned to him, each forgetting their own little 
bickering that they had been involved in.  

Offering them a small smile with a hint of mocking behind it, Elrond relaxed 
back into his seat, glad that he had put a stop to what would seem inexorable.  
The entire morning had been bad.  From word go nothing had gone to plan, setting 
all of Rivendell’s higher society into a foul mood that reflected in their want 
and ability to communicate with others in the important council that was being 
held so the envoys from Mirkwood could plead their case – whatever it may be.  

Elrond sat in the middle of the open end of the horseshoe created by the chairs 
that were a permanent fixture of the area.  Behind him and to each side were the 
normal seats of his two twin sons yet today they had insisted in standing by 
their friend.  To his left and at the first seat that started the curve sat 
Estel, his eyes, strangely enough, drifting from Rastur to Culdôr to Erestor in 
a look that Elrond knew all to well as being one of hate.  Next to him sat 
Legolas, pale and slightly shaken with a bandage around his arm that still 
showed sighs of seeping blood.  The twins stood still as trees behind him, their 
gazes missing nothing, while Gilnen sat on the other side of Legolas.   To 
Gilnen’s left sat, Dúelen, Culdôr, Rastur, Arlhach and Erestor.  

On the other side sat Glorfindel with Galdor on his left.  The head of the 
Rivendell guards, Erthalion sat next to him and his second in command Curuesgal. 
 Another five Elves made up the council, not including the many guards that 
patrolled the borders of the raised dais that was reserved for such events.    

Casting a quick look to the pale Legolas, Elrond was glad to see that his twin 
sons who stood protectively behind him and Estel, seated to his right, were each 
ready to grab at their weapons should anything like the happenings of that 
morning reoccur.

Feeling Elrond’s eyes on him, Legolas turned to the lord and offered a smile, 
trying not to let his nervousness get the better of him and make him lose his 
stability of mind.   That morning had been an interesting one at that and, even 
though Legolas had argued the importance of the council taking place this day, 
he was not entirely ready for it – mentally and emotionally.

As it turned out, before the prince had even the chance to half fill the others 
in on the reason that he and his unlikely companions where here, a argument 
broke out between the Rivendell Elves and the Mirkwood representatives about 
seating arrangements.  The entire situation was screaming of its informality 
compared to the regal congress of Mirkwood and already Legolas found it hard to 
concentrate.   

Even though he would never admit it, and as much as he had protested it before, 
he could still feel the symptoms of the strange drug that he had been somehow 
slipped during the dinner the night before.  It was clouding his mind and making 
it hard to think on one subject at a time while steadily giving him a headache – 
which was a feeling that he was thankfully not all to familiar with.  He was 
dreaded having to get up and speak, to try and prove his case to this council 
and, on top of the drug, it was also not a good sign that he did not know of 
many of these members very well so he had no real back history on anyone to 
subtly use against them.  

Another disturbing thing was the fact that, due to the questioning that the 
kitchen servants had been put through, almost everyone in Rivendell knew of the 
Mirkwood prince’s ‘poisoning and attempted murder by a highly trained assassin’, 
as it had been spread, the truth being twisted into a story more elaborate to 
entertain all those who heard.  

“Thank you!” Elrond sighed as the last of the arguments died completely.  “Now, 
as you may not have guessed due to your prior display, we are here for an 
important reason.  As you can see,” he motioned to Legolas and the other 
Mirkwood Elves, “we have guests from Mirkwood bringing news that needs to be 
discussed.”  

An Elf known as Fëandil, seated to the left of Erestor, glared over at the 
Culdôr, his eyes narrowed into thin slits, “if they now the meaning of 
‘discuss’!” he spat out, the distaste obvious in his voice as he looked upon the 
chief advisor of Mirkwood.  He had been witness to the last so called council 
that consisted of Rivendell and Mirkwood and seen the way that Culdôr had 
treated the entire situation and threatened the prince, who, in his opinion was 
alright and one of the only good and justly Elves to come of the Greatwood.  

“Fëandil!” Elrond warned the younger of the Rivendell Elves that was at 
attendance.  He liked the Elf enough, but Fëandil was also known for his 
fieriness and quick temper, making him just as irrational as Culdôr himself.  

At the triumphant look that Culdôr shot at the aforementioned Elf, which Elrond 
saw, the Lord glared right at the advisor, “that was not meant as a favor to 
you, Culdôr, only a way to try and keep this as civil as possible.”

This time it was Gilnen to scoff at the lords words, not offering direct insult 
to Elrond but to the fact that a council with these members could ever be 
considered ‘civil’.   “I do think that such a thing will never occur, my Lord,” 
he said.  Now that he was in the safely of Rivendell, he felt much more inclined 
to speak up against Culdôr, let alone justified, and had no fear of Thranduil’s 
wrath for any brash words that may escape him.  “Not with a number of us 
present.”

“Watch your words, Gilnen,” Culdôr scolded, “do not think that just because you 
are here and no longer in Mirkwood that you may escape responsibility for them!”

“Why should I not?” Gilnen shot back, his temper flaring at the one Elf that he 
despised the most of all he had met, “why should I not think that I could escape 
it when you yourself evaded the reprimand that you disserved on our last visit?”

“I did what was needed,” Culdôr hissed at the Elf around Dúelen, “and what my 
King commanded.”  

“Funny,” Erestor spoke for the first time in the hour that they had been sitting 
there and arguing about various things, “I had it under good authority that 
Thranduil never ordered such a thing!”

At this all looked up, even Legolas who had let his head drop in both defeat at 
the subject at hand and the strange pounding from within.  Now that he though of 
it, he and his father had never since talked on the subject and when he had 
arrived home, Thranduil was too angered at the prospect of Legolas throwing his 
crown into the wind as if it were useless then not having come home in close to 
five years.  

“And who informed you of such slander?” Culdôr asked, his tone defensive and on 
edge.

“I have my sources,” Erestor replied mysteriously and with an air of importance. 
 

“Then your sources are wrong!” Dúelen defended his friend having seen the Culdôr 
was above furious and unable to speak.  

“Are you calling Erestor a liar?” Arlhach demanded of the other.  He had not 
been present for the subject that they argued about, but was fiercely loyal to 
the Elf that had taught him so much in his life and thus would not stand to see 
his honor insulted.  

Elrohir took the scene in with unhidden interest, watching each Elf jump to 
defend the one that they saw as fit to receive words of backing.  He knew that 
Glorfindel was observing everything and taking it all in and yet was unlikely to 
speak, just like Galdor, and he also knew that the others would not hesitate to 
flare up if the need called for it.  The fact that Rastur had sat quietly 
through out the entire council so far, not seeking to defend his division, was 
slightly baffling, and, knowing that Legolas – even though the Elf had not 
confessed his thoughts – did not trust or like the Elf added further confusion 
to the situation.  

Leaning over to Elladan, who seemed to be doing the same, he whispered, “this is 
going well, do not you think, brother?” 

Elladan’s reply came as a roll of his eyes and a slight sigh.  As a rule, the 
two twin’s had long decided that it was best to stay out of such things, as, 
like Fëandil, they had the habit of letting themselves run free with their words 
and, unlike the other Elf, they did not have that liberty to be able to do so.  
That was why it was such a big deal that they had become involved in the battle 
over Legolas so many years ago as it was one of the first times that they had 
spoken at a council for a few hundred years.  

“If he still stands by his claim and refuses to tell me on what grounds he makes 
it, then yes, I am,” Culdôr retorted in Dúelen’s stead, knowing that the other 
had only spoken to defend him and that this really was his battle, “do you have 
a problem with that?”

“Yes!  I do have a problem with you accusing my mentor of being a lair!”  
Arlhach whispered dangerously and where it not for Erestor’s quick hand resting 
on his shoulder, he would have risen to his feet to continue his bland dislike 
of the accusation.   

“Peace, Arlhach,” Erthalion hushed the Elf from across the council and Arlhach 
bowed his head in defeat and respect to his superior.    

“Why should he hold his peace?” Gilnen once again spoke up, not wanting to pass 
up the chance of getting Dúelen and Culdôr into conflict.  “Insult has been 
issued, and therefore should be either proven or cleared from the associated 
name!”

“Gilnen!” Culdôr hissed again, this time accompanied by an angry look from both 
him and Dúelen.  

“Do not seek to hush me, Culdôr!” Gilnen spat at the Elf and yet directed it at 
both him and Dúelen.  “Your words do not scare me just as they do not pollute my 
head as your sorcery does to our king.”

That did it.  Having suffered insult himself, Culdôr leapt to his feet and made 
a rush at Gilnen, only to be grabbed by behind and shoved roughly back into his 
chair by a swiftly moving Elrohir.  Both the twin’s and the guards had seen what 
was coming, and, Elrohir being the closest to the Elf in question took it upon 
himself to stop Culdôr before anything too damaging happened.  

Having both hands planted firmly on each of his shoulder, Elrohir pushed Culdôr 
back into the chair as he once again tried to get to his feet, the twin’s 
strength exceeding that of the advisor.  

“Take your hands off me, son of Elrond!” Culdôr almost yelled in rage as Elrohir 
pushed down harder.

Leaning down so that his head was almost leaning on Culdôr’s shoulder, Elrohir 
whispered dangerously in his ear and yet loud enough for all to hear his words. 
 “Not until you hold your seat as well as your malicious tongue!”

“He offered insult to me!” Culdôr protested, his face burning with hate and 
shame that the younger Elf was able to hold him so firmly.

“Just as you stained Erestor’s name with your own!” Elrohir continued, “what 
comes around goes around, Culdôr, and since you stated this I think it only 
fitting that you should be the cause of it to cease.” As Culdôr was about to 
protest again, Elrohir leaned even closer and let his last words pass only 
between them, “or shall I make you silent?” 

Face fuming Culdôr set his jaw tight and glared straight ahead until the Elf 
behind him removed his hands and stood above him with his arms crossed to make 
sure not to offer Culdôr the opportunity to move again.   

Meanwhile, Elladan, seeing that Elrohir had it all under control, moved silently 
to his father’s side and crouched by the chair.  “Father,” he hissed, “you must 
put a stop to this!”

Holding his hand up to silence his son, Elrond shook his head.  “Nay, I could 
not even if I wanted to!” Elrond declared, “they will tear each other apart and 
that will aid us well in the long run.  Let them have at it and choose sides, 
and, as you will soon see, ours will benefit from it.”

“How can we benefit from them all wanting to kill each other?” Elladan resisted 
the urge to yell out his words, releasing the disbelief that he felt.  

“Look at the sides, my son,” Elrond said plainly and yet full of wisdom, “do you 
not see that, ever so slowly, all are standing to oppose Culdôr and Dúelen?”  At 
his son’s nod, he continued.  “Legolas knows this, which is why he says nothing. 
 If there are too strongly opposed sides, then it will be easier to sway the 
enemy of his enemy.  Remember, he knows not of most of these Elves so he must 
use whatever he can against them and to his advantage in persuading them.  That 
key element in this case is their mutual hate for Culdôr and all who stand to 
back him.  Give it a little more time and Legolas, I assure you, my son, will 
put a stop to this himself, winning both the respect of the others as well as 
the attention that he needs. ”

Seeing the logic to it, Elladan stood and moved back to his position behind the 
blond Elf, his mind abuzz with concepts and possibilities.  

“You have no right to force him into silence, Elrohir!” Dúelen protested while 
glaring up at the Elf, hate playing across his already dark eyes.

“Actually,” a new voice came into the argument from across the hearing floor.  
“I believe that he does, since this is his father’s home and you are a guest.”  
Looking up, surprised to see that he had his own defender, Elrohir locked eyes 
with the Elf known as Findûr who sat next to Curuesgal.

“And just who are you?” Culdôr questioned with a sarcastic tone, angry that yet 
another was siding against him.  Before he had even finished his sentence, he 
felt Elrohir’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing the flesh with an iron grip in 
order to try and keep the Elf quiet.

“I am Findûr,” the aforementioned Elf said, “and as a noble of this house I have 
every right to stand in the defense of my young Lord.

“As you will then,” Dúelen snarled, “but he still has no right to order one 
higher in rank then him about!”

“Just as Culdôr had neither right nor justification to order his prince around!” 
Erestor spoke again, breaking his long silence.  

“That is true,” Belegdil, the house’s public communicator spoke up, “so 
perchance, until the day comes when Culdôr learns to treat those above him with 
their deserved respect, neither he nor his subordinate should proclaim ill 
treatment!” 

“I know not what you all argue about,” Rastur spoke for the first time, his head 
bowed so that he kept his eyes locked upon the ground, “and I do not seek to 
take sides in this, but is not Elrohir above the ranking of Culdôr anyway?”

A hush fell over the council as they took in his words.  It was true and all 
knew it to be of truth but each and every one of them had been so caught up in 
the volley of harsh words that none had picked up on the obvious.

Next to Estel, Legolas bit his lip and muttered under his breath, his words only 
just gracing Estel’s ears as he fell into his native language.  “Nor an Udûn, 
Rastur!” being careful not to let anyone see his unease, Legolas quickly tried 
to think of a way to get them back into the argument, cursing the day that he 
allowed Rastur to come.  That one sentence could ruin everything for him and his 
chances of winning over this council for, now that they were forced to re-think 
on what was just said, some of the other allegations would surly come back to 
them and they would also see the errors in those, possibly resulting in a change 
of hearts and minds towards each other.  

Yet, before he had time to find the words that would send them back into an 
argument and leave him blameless, another voice cut through the silence.

“It matters not,” Elladan offered in hopes of getting them back into an 
argument, now knowing that Legolas needed it to be as such, “for Culdôr’s 
allegations, as well as Gilnen’s,” he offered the other Elf a small unspoken 
apology for dragging him back into this, but from the other’s eyes, Elladan had 
the feeling that Gilnen already knew what Legolas needed and was eager to aid 
his prince, “still stand and it is those, as well as Culdôr’s actions towards 
his prince that –“

“Do not try to drag them back into an argww-“ Culdôr’s protests were cut off as 
Elrohir firmly squeezed the soft spot between his shoulder blade and his collar 
bone, ending his sentence in more of a wail then a word.  

“Opps, sorry, did I hurt you there?” Elrohir asked innocently with a forged look 
of remorse while powerfully patting the man in the same spot, adding further 
pain to the now tense muscle.  

As Dúelen once again protested, obviously oblivious to what the twins where 
trying to do, Elrohir offered Elladan a cheeky ‘this is fun’ look, which was 
secretly returned.  

As the council burst into a babble of shouts and insults once again, Legolas 
smiled to himself, pleased that his friends where able to help without getting 
too dragged in at the same time.  Waiting until the moment was right and that 
there were many people speaking, each over the top of the other in hopes of 
drowning each other out, Legolas, lifted his still pounding head and sent a 
quick prayer to the Valar for a clear enough mind to be able to do this.

“Stop,” he said weakly and on purpose.  His voice only carried to the few in the 
immediate area while the rest were still yelling at each other and shaking their 
fists.  “Stop!” he repeated, this time a little stronger and alerting more to 
the fact that he wished to speak.  Seeing that the time was right due to the 
fact that an extremely annoyed Culdôr – who was trying to talk in between 
Elrohir firmly thumping him on the back with an amused look on his face – was 
still arguing with Fëandil and Arlhach, Legolas stood to his feet without so 
much as a sound.

“I said STOP!” he commanded, causing all eyes to turn on him in a little shock. 
 Making eye contact with as many people as he could, Legolas walked into the 
middle of the floor, blinking constantly to try and keep his eyes clear and 
unglazed.   He could see Estel silently protesting his movement as he knew that 
the human knew that he was still overly dizzy, but, heeding him no attention, 
Legolas set his jaw tight in order to keep any giddy feelings from showing on 
his face.   

“The point of this council is to discuss the present and try to foresee the 
future, not resurrect the past!” the prince stated sharply, “so I will have no 
more of this endless arguing.  Do I make myself clear?” Legolas questioned, 
using his authority as the highest ranked Elf at the event to command their 
attention and respect.  He did not like having to rule over Elrond’s council, 
but at the same time he knew that they was why Elrond had been silent, allowing 
the prince free rule and the leeway he needed to get what he wanted.  

When most had nodded their agreement, Legolas slowly began to move about the 
floor, only to stop halfway as the pounding in his head increased with the 
movement.  Looking around the gathered Elves, Legolas was rather surprised to 
see all the different emotions and feelings displayed upon their faces.  

Elladan and Elrohir looked slightly worried and rather preoccupied in keeping 
watch at the balcony above them and the woods behind for any sign of threat 
while Estel too looked concerned for the prince’s well being.   Gilnen’s eyes 
showed him that whatever Legolas did, he had his support, which the prince was 
thankful for as he was met with hate and anger when looking at Dúelen and 
Culdôr.  Erestor looked upon the prince as a teacher would his best student and 
Arlhach seemed to cast Legolas admiring glances, obviously having picked up on 
the reason behind the Elf’s actions and silence throughout the meeting.  
Glorfindel and Galdor were both regarding him with respect, as was the two 
leaders of the guards.  Most of the others were casting him inquisitive looks, 
the rumors of the happenings that morning and of his abilities mixing to form a 
confused form of respect and admiration.  

Knowing that he was already getting more support then Culdôr who would, more 
then likely, try to convince them not to listen to his words – much as he had 
done at the Council of the Great Wood – Legolas offered them a smile.  

“I have been sent here by my father, Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, seeking your 
council and hopefully your support in a matter that came to our attention only a 
short while ago.” Legolas said evenly, his voice neither sweet and pleading or 
harsh and commanding.  Having decided on the best way to break the news that he 
wanted them to save a group of humans, Legolas put his plan into action.

“We had a messenger come to Mirkwood, seeking aid in defeating an unknown evil 
near Ered Luin and I am here to plead with you to give me succor in helping 
these beings.”

Having heard the location, Galdor sat up higher in his seat, leaning in to 
listen to the Elf a little more closely.  It had been many years since he had 
journey back to his home land and the thought of something evil assailing it was 
a disturbing one at that.  

“Is it near the Havens?” he asked of the prince.  

Turning towards him, Legolas thought it best and safe if he stretched the truth 
just a little.  “Yes,” he replied, his lie coming easily to his lips and not 
affecting anything about him for the others to see.  “It is gradually moving 
towards our beloved Havens, even as we speak now it is getting closer.”

“That is a lie, Legolas!” Culdôr yelled, voice bouncing off the walls while 
jumping to his feet before Elrohir had the time to stop him.  “Listen not to 
what he says about the Havens falling under threat.  He speaks no truth on the 
matter and is only seeking to use your lives in order to aid humans!”

A small, disapproving murmur spread through the group and yet it worried Legolas 
not.  Seeing out of the corner of his eye that Estel was glaring at all those 
who opposed the thought of aiding his people, Legolas bit back the want to laugh 
at the young man’s behavior.  

“Aye,” Legolas confirmed while turning back to the council, “’tis humans that 
need our aid currently, but I assure you that the Havens are set to suffer the 
same fate as the score of human villages that have been completely annihilated!”

“So you admit to the fact that you lied about the Havens being under attack?” 
Dúelen demanded, pleased with what was a fault by the prince in his eyes.

Legolas just turned to the Elf and smiled, more of a motion of his facial 
features that indicative of any emotion.

“Why, prey tell,” came the voice that Legolas was waiting for, “should we 
believe your words over that of the prince’s?” Elrond asked both Culdôr and 
Dúelen and at the nods and whispered agreements, both Elrond and Legolas knew 
that they were in the clear.

“That is true!” Fëandil exclaimed, “why should we believe you over the prince 
when it has been you two that have offered insult throughout this entire council 
and the prince that has sat quietly by?”

“I for one am more inclined to believe Legolas,” Galdor said with a nod of his 
head towards the standing archer, “so if he says that the Havens are in danger 
then I will take that as truth and reason to send aid.”

“I am with you,” Erestor said, standing to his feet and nodding his head towards 
the Elf from the Grey Havens.  “Human or no, we should help them – especially if 
it involves the chance of ill befalling the Havens afterwards if we do not.  Who 
is with us?”

As, one by one, the council stood, lead first by Gilnen and Estel, Legolas could 
hardly believe his luck.  It had been much easier then he had ever expected and 
he put it down to the collective dislike and distrust of Culdôr.  

When all but Culdôr and Dúelen were on their feet, Elrond too rose and walked to 
the middle of the floor to stand with Legolas.  “Then it is decided.  We will 
aid the human’s in the far West – if only to save our Havens.” 

Looking at Legolas, he shot him one of the ‘we need to talk’ looks and the 
prince bowed his head in acceptance.  He knew that Elrond was not overly fussed 
on the race of men as a whole – Estel was one thing but combined the humans were 
merely driven by lust and greed and Elrond was not a large supporter of either.

Culdôr, not wanting to admit defeat glanced at all the Elves that stood, and, 
shooting Elrohir a warning glance threatening him to stay out of this one, 
started to talk, “it is all very well that you have decided that it shall be as 
the prince wants, but have either one of you even thought about who to send?  
What Elf in his right mind would go on such a folly mission?”

Not to be threatened by Culdôr, Elrohir made up his mind quickly and stepped 
forth, “I will go!” he said, “whether it be alone or accompanied, I make this 
pledge – and it is already said that I am not of a right mind by many so 
perchance it is fate!” he hissed the last bit at Culdôr, obviously getting back 
that the Elf for some reason or another from the past.

Muttering under his breath at the impulsiveness of his younger brother, Elladan 
was thankful that that was one thing that he did not share with his identical 
twin.  “Valar save them from you if we only allow you to go,” he said while 
stepping forward and standing next to his brother in a sign that he would go 
with him.  

Leaning over to smile and whisper in Elladan’s ear, Elrohir looked around the 
circle hopefully.  “I was starting to worry that I would be going on my own!”

A hand on his shoulder stopped him from saying anything else as Gilnen and Estel 
both stepped up to them with grins on their faces.  Seeing the mirth of the 
others, Legolas also moved over to them, showing the council that he too would 
go.

“My prince?” Culdôr hissed threateningly, “that is not wise!”

“Do not threaten him again, Culdôr,’ Erestor said as he, followed by Arlhach, 
stepped up with the others, baffling Estel even more.  All the way though the 
council, Erestor had, in some way or another defended the prince, and yet it was 
him that he had witnessed only the night before conspiring with Rastur against 
Legolas.  As he was thinking on the situation, Estel did not miss the harsh look 
that Erestor shot in the direction of Rastur, who, after catching the other’s 
eye, rose to his feet and moved to the quickly forming group, much to Legolas, 
Estel and Elrohir’s joint displeasure.

“Well,” Erthalion said while standing to his feet as well, “if the advisor can 
go, then surly I can.” As he walked over, Curuesgal began to rise, only to be 
stopped by Erthalion’s raised hand, “you need to stay here.  ‘Twill do no good 
to have both the commanders of the guards gone, you know that.”   Nodding his 
head in disappointed agreement, Curuesgal retook his seat and watched as the 
others thought on what to do.  

Next to move to the group was both Fëandil and Findûr who, up close, looked so 
alike that it became obvious that they where brothers, Fëandil clearly many 
centuries younger.  The next to join them was the Elf Nimneldor followed by, to 
everyone’s discontent, Dúelen.

When he received a number of ill looks, he shrugged and looked towards Culdôr.  
“I may not see eye to eye with all of you,” he said, “but I will not let that 
stop me from doing what is bid the right thing, so, my prince,” he bowed low to 
Legolas, and the Elf could not help but see how unnatural the act was for 
Dúelen, “if you chose to turn me away for past disagreements I shall go without 
complaint.”

Cursing Culdôr within his head using every language he knew, Legolas saw the 
trap all too late.  He had gained the respect and the help that he needed by 
pleading for aid and now it would seem insulting and he would be degraded in the 
eyes of the others if he turned away an offer of service.  

Knowing that he had no other choice and that the twin’s, Estel and Gilnen saw 
the trap also; he inclined his head and spoke as evenly as possible.  “Of course 
I will not hold them against you, and we would be thankful for you help.”  
Legolas only hoped that his words did not seem so forced to those that surround 
him as they sounded in his own head. 

Elrond looked over the numbers, being happy with most of them.  “Thirteen,” he 
said idly, “an unlucky number.”

“Then I shall balance it, if not just until home,” Galdor said while standing.  
“This threat is new to me, and then it will therefore be new to the Havens, so, 
if you would have me, I will ride with you till there where I will see to it 
that the Havens become fortified in case of your failure – Valar forbid!”  

“We shall be honored to have you along with us, my friend,” Erestor stated with 
a bow of his head.  

“Then it is decided!” Elrond said with the slightest of nods.  “Fourteen will go 
if only for now.  I will have the servants start the arrangements.  This council 
is concluded.”

With that said, most of the Elves hurried off, some to pack so that they would 
be ready for whenever they were to be set to leave, and others for their own 
purposes.  Even Elrond moved out of sight, leaving only Legolas, Estel, Gilnen 
the twins and Culdôr standing there.  

“Your father will hear of this!” Culdôr threatened the prince with his eyes 
narrowed.  

“Why Culdôr,” Gilnen said with a smile, “since you are the only one returning to 
Mirkwood, I would hope that you will tell the King of this else he suspect you 
of turning us over to a band of Orcs!”  

Seeing that his friend had Culdôr under control, if only for the time being, 
Legolas moved back to his seat and placed his head in his hands, squeezing in on 
his temples to try and stop the pounding.  Two bodies took the chairs on either 
side and Legolas looked up to see Estel and Elladan seated next to him.

“The drug still giving you trouble?” Estel asked softly and as the prince nodded 
slowly he saw that Legolas’ eyes were once again glazed over and slightly red.  
Elrond had warned that it may actually take a few days to fully wear off and 
that during that time Legolas may have the occasional relapse, but despite that 
it was harmless.  

Looking up, Legolas saw Elrohir standing next to Gilnen, a playful smile on his 
face.  “Oh by the Valar, what is he planning?” Legolas groaned while letting his 
head fall back to his hands.  

Glancing over at his twin, Elladan merely laughed ere he stood.  “Who knows.” He 
said while offering a hand down to the prince.  “Come, Estel and I will get you 
to bed so you may sleep this off – it will go quicker that way.”  Nodding his 
agreement and letting another yawn pass his lips, Legolas realized that that 
must have been the first signs of the drug taking effect on him the night before 
– he seemed to recall yawning a lot through the evening.  

Supporting the weakened Elf between them, Elladan and Estel slowly made their 
way into the large doors of the Homely House and towards Legolas’ room.

Seeing that their friend’s were leaving, Gilnen stopped his ravings about how 
Thranduil may think Culdôr did something to hurt the prince and how it was best 
if he did tell the King and looked to Elrohir.  “Well,” he said to the younger 
of the twins, “I do believe it is time that we were off.  Sorry, Culdôr, I 
really do like talking to you and all, but I now have better things to do!”  
With a smile he turned on his heels and walked after the other three.

Elrohir, who had been standing to the side of Culdôr walked around behind the 
Elf and, placing his hands on the other’s shoulders, he clutched them even 
tighter then he had before.  Culdôr bucked up in pain but would not cry out as 
the young Elf leant over, “I hope you have a wonderful night!” Elrohir exclaimed 
with a broad grin while slapping his hands down on the taught muscles and making 
it look like a friendly gesture, “and remember, what comes around goes around, 
so I suggest that you be a good little Elf and tell the King the truth!”  

Giving Culdôr another of his dashing smiles, Elrohir turned and followed his 
friend’s, knowing that they would have been taking Legolas to his rooms.  

While walking through the many corridors, Elrohir had to wonder why he had been 
afraid of Culdôr for so long.    He knew that he no longer feared him else he 
would have never had the nerve to do as he had throughout the council, but he 
knew not why.  The only explanation that he could offer his questioning mind was 
the fact that Legolas was growing stronger.  His sway over people was deepening 
and, as seen today, he no longer hid or cringed at the chance to go up against 
his nemesis and bring him down, which, in turn made Elrohir feel more at ease 
around the insulted and embarrassed Culdôr, knowing that he could not touch or 
reprimand any of them.  Not anymore.  

*****

Ok, I decided that the Elves needed a ‘new look’ so to speak, so I have 
‘upgraded’ their fighting styles!  Lol – especially Elrohir.  I mean, the 
aforementioned Elf I have based off of Eric Draven from The Crow, Stairway to 
Heaven, Alice from Resident Evil the movie and a video game character from ‘Dead 
or Alive’ on X-Box!  I did this solely for my entertainment, so if it does not 
go well, or you feel that I can not describe it well enough, please tell me as I 
have plans for all the other characters as well (I have a sort of The Matrix/The 
Brotherhood of the Wolf/Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon/The Crow/Resident 
Evil/Musketeer/Interview with the Vampire - Queen of the Damned/Dark Angel sorta 
thing happening with them all – but there will be no running up walls and 
whatnot as I AM keeping it as realistic as possible.)  So, let me know what you 
think.  LOL, I am also seeing a whole ‘Charlie’s Angels’ stand with the five of 
them!  LOL!

Oh, I have also decided to make Elrohir a little different to the others – I 
mean, you can tell by his fighting style already, and then there is the fact 
that I just could not resist putting the gloves on him!  Lol, you will have to 
read on to find out.

*****

The Eaters of the Dead

Part Five

Encounters in the Woods

*****


“Estel, I will be fine – Elladan, tell him!” Elrohir could hear Legolas plead 
with his twin as he entered the prince’s room.  Estel was currently tucking the 
complaining archer into bed while Gilnen was sitting cross-legged upon the floor 
in the far corner of the room, his head leaning against the wall with an amused 
grin plastered on his face.  Elladan, on the other hand, was standing at the 
balcony entrance, looking out to the trees as if keeping guard and watch.  

Once Elrohir walked silently into the room, the Elf felt Legolas’ pleading gaze 
fall on him.  “Elrohir, help me!” Legolas begged while Estel fluffed up another 
pillow and shoved it behind the many others on the prince’s bed, “they will not 
leave.”  When Elrohir merely smiled at them all, the pleading suddenly turned 
into a command, “tell them to leave, Elrohir!”  

“Hey, leave me out of this one,” the younger of the twins said while raising his 
hands in his own defense.  “I have not come here to get involved in any of your 
disputes, little prince,” Elrohir smirked at the look of shock then mild anger 
that passed over Legolas’ face at the name used, “I have done enough of that 
today!”  

“Oh yes Elrohir,” Gilnen said with a large smile, “I would pay to see you 
thumping Culdôr like that again – it was brilliant!”  

“It was rather funny!” Estel added, pulling the blankets up under the Elven 
prince’s chin while battering the Elf’s arms away when Legolas tried to get out 
of the restraining blankets.  

“And fun!” Elrohir exclaimed as he pulled a large comfort chair along the floor 
and towards the bed, “oh so fun – I seriously recommend that you all try it 
sometime!” 

“Elrohir?” Legolas pleaded again, wanting his friend to come to his rescue as 
Estel once again attacked the pillows, muttering that they were not high enough. 
 

Sighing, Elrohir paused in his effort of dragging the rather large chair and 
turned to see the prince’s distressed face as the human continued to fuss over 
him as if he were on the brink of death.  “Fine,” he sighed while moving over 
and taking a hold of the human’s right hand, “Estel, leave the prince be, I am 
sure that he is perfectly comfortable.”

“But—“ Estel protested as Elrohir pulled him back and away from the bed.  Gently 
pushing the human down, he sat him near Gilnen and with a pointed look at the 
other Elf, told him to keep the human in place ere he went back to his task of 
rearranging the furniture to suit him.

“Thank you!” Legolas said with a small pout at the fact that it had taken him so 
long to get the help that he needed.  Glancing around the room, he could still 
see that Elladan stood at the window, alert and ready should there be a repeat 
of that morning, Gilnen was holding back a squirming Estel who kept muttering 
about pillows and Elrohir had finally finished his task of pulling the chair to 
the end of the bed.  Flopping down in the soft seat, the younger of the twins 
slung his feet over one of the large arms and tucked his head into the other, 
obviously settled down for the night.

“Elladan,” Gilnen called out softly, causing the said Elf to flinch at the 
unexpected sound of his name.  “Come and sit down, you can not possibly hope to 
stand there all night and still be ready if we should all leave in the morning.” 
 He had both arms wrapped tightly around the human’s waist as he struggled to 
get free, his hands waving about in front of him like a child who was reaching 
for is mother or a treat that was being held above its head and reach.  “Curse 
you Estel,” Gilnen hissed as if the man really was a child, “sit still!”

“I shall be fine – get some rest,” Elladan commanded, taking on the part of the 
older Elf of the group.  They were all rather close in age, apart from Estel of 
course, but Elladan was always the one to step into the elder brother role to 
them all, always seeking to protect the others that he saw as being under his 
charge.  

“Elladan!” Legolas interjected before Gilnen could do the same thing.  “We shall 
all be fine – we are together and it would take a completely insane person to 
try and pull anything off now.  So come, there is room on the floor for you to 
rest – or even better,” he said while turning to the others, stopping Estel and 
Gilnen’s silent struggles as both looked up, guilty looks spread across their 
faces, “you could all go to your own rooms!” 

A choir of “no’s” and “uh-ah’s” was all that he received in reply as Elrohir 
buried his head in the great chair and Estel finally broke free of Gilnen and 
came to lean up against the side of the bed near the prince’s head.  

“Come Elladan,” Estel muttered as he lent his head back against the soft bed and 
closed his eyes.  “We will not let anything happen to the prince, and I am sure 
that you standing there like a tree all night is likely to hinder your ability 
to do anything anyway.”

Sighing grumpily, Elladan pulled the drapes across the large opening and moved 
over to the side of Elrohir’s chair.  “Fine,” he stated, obviously beaten and 
not liking that fact, “and how come you get the chair?” he questioned of the 
dark-haired Elf that was curled up in the soft padding.

“Because I was the one that thought of dragging the damn thing all the way 
over!” Elrohir informed him while clutching to the arm rest that his head leant 
upon, showing that we would not give it up without a fight.

“Fine!” Elladan muttered again, this time with a large smile as he settled down 
next to it and lent up against the front of the chair, where Elrohir’s legs 
should have been.  

“You know,” Legolas said quietly, “you could all have comfortable places to lye 
if you but—“

“NO!” came all four voices at once as they all settled back into their 
respective positions.  

“Just a suggestion,” Legolas said in his defense while rolling over and grabbing 
a few of the extra pillows that Estel had collected from the many spare rooms 
around the house.  Tossing one over to Gilnen, it hit him in the head and even 
as the Elf pushed it behind his head in the corner of the room, he glared at the 
smiling prince.  Pushing Estel’s’ head forward, Legolas tucked a pillow behind 
his head and shoulders as well and received a half asleep thank you.  Finally, 
he threw one over for the twins who briefly fought over it, slapping at each 
others hands until another came sailing through the air and hit Elladan in the 
head.  Snatching up that pillow, the eldest of the group leant back against the 
chair and, keeping his eyes glued on the balcony opening, waited for sleep to 
take him.  

Watching as, one by one, starting with Estel, his friends fell asleep; Legolas 
could not help but smile at the way they all spread out about the room and yet 
were all in such close quarters.   He truly felt safe, and, the most important 
feeling of all that he realized he felt as he drifted off to sleep was loved – 
he knew that they would do anything for him just as he would do anything for 
them, and it was that bond that would keep them alive through whatever was to 
come of this quest.  

With that in mind, he allowed his eyes to slowly blink into a semi-closed state 
and glaze over, his world switching to that of Elven dreams.

*****

The harsh bite of the bright sun struck Legolas right in the eyes, rousing him 
from his peaceful dreams as the sound of large amounts of shifting velvet filled 
his ears.

“Good morning, my young Lords’!” Erestor said cheerfully from his position near 
the balcony where he held open the drapes, one in each hand as he watched the 
Elves and human stir with a smile.  “I thought that I would find you all here,” 
he told them while pulling the large, golden drapes back further, enticing moans 
of protest from both Elrohir and Estel.  Elrohir tried to hide his head further 
into the chair while Estel turned and buried his head into the pillow that he 
was still leaning against.  Elladan was slowly sitting up, surprised at the fact 
that they had slept for so long and Gilnen was working the cranks out of his 
neck from sleeping in his rather awkward position.  

“Go away,” Estel murmured into the pillow as the sun hit him directly and he, 
unlike the Elves, started to fell the golden glow heating the room already.  

Smiling, Legolas reached down and patted the young man’s head gently, “come on, 
Estel, time to get up.”

Elrohir had already come to that conclusion, his earlier attempts in hiding from 
the morning forgotten as he slipped off the right arm rest and let his legs 
regain their circulation.  Elladan was already up, having woken when Erestor had 
entered the room, and was wandering over to the balcony to great the morning – 
or check for any threats.

Erestor walked over to Legolas’ bed, and, sitting down on the opposite edge to 
Estel, placed a hand on Legolas’ forehead and looked into the prince’s eyes.  
“How are you feeling, my prince?” he asked gently while reaching down and 
pressing his hands to Legolas throat, checking the pace of his pulse. 

“Fine,” Legolas responded with a smile.

“Truthfully?” Erestor questioned, and at Legolas’ nod, he looked hard into the 
young ones eyes.  Legolas was famous for brushing aside his feelings, injuries 
or the truth to how he was faring so it was vital that he received the honest 
answer, no matter what the means of getting it.  Legolas’ eyes where back to 
normal, his pulse steady and regular and he held no fever.  Maybe this time he 
was telling the truth on the matter.  

“Very well,” Erestor sighed while standing up.  Feeling eyes upon him, he turned 
to see Estel awake and alert, glaring at him with distrust and suspicion as he 
took the advisors place and hovered over the prince, making sure that he was 
comfortable and had slept well. 

“The morning meal will be served soon,” Erestor informed them, putting the 
strangeness of the young human aside in his mind and regaining his air of 
importance and composure.  Moving over to the doorway, he stood tall and looked 
down at the still waking friends while clasping his hands in front of his chest. 
 “Will you be attending, or shall I see to it that food is brought up for you?”

“We shall stay he-“ Estel said offhandedly while leaning over Legolas again.  

Having had enough of this constant fussing that seemed to be taking place about 
him, Legolas shoved the human back and right into the slowly standing Gilnen.  
Both toppled over and fell into the far wall before slowly sinking to the floor 
in a collective daze while drawing a muffled laugh from Elrohir.  “We shall join 
you!” Legolas stated courtly and daring any one of the others to even try to 
contradict him on the subject.  

With a slight nod of his head, Erestor left the room without a sound.  Walking 
regally around the corner with his head held high, he waited until he was sure 
he was out of sight before letting his shoulders slump and his walk turn more 
into one with a heavy burden and purpose then that of the Elven noble that he 
was.  

Pressing his lips together and setting his jaw tightly, he wrung his hands as he 
made his way back into the main waiting hall of the Homely House.  Pausing in 
the centre of the room, he lifted his head and looked down the far corridor, 
still darkened from the lack of sunlight to grace the western side of the house, 
checking to make sure that no one was present.  Clicking his fingers once and 
yet loudly, a soft scamper of Elven feet came to him as a being rushed across 
the polished floor to stand by his side.

“The human knows something,” Erestor said bluntly while looking out the main 
doors and onto the lush surrounding gardens.  

“What should I do then?” Rastur asked, his tone cold and almost emotionless.  “I 
could always. . .” his voice trailed off, his suggestion having been made in the 
dangerous tone of voice and the suggestive leer in both his eyes and smile.

“No!” Erestor said firmly and with a shake of his head while raising a 
commanding hand to stop any other suggestions.  “He is not to be hurt!”

“Then you have a plan?” Rastur asked, his posture slumping slightly at the words 
that flowed from his mouth.

“Culdôr. . .” Erestor whispered, his eyes unseeing as he fell into deep thought, 
“he is the key – we know that.”  Biting down on his thumb nail, the advisor 
strummed his other fingers against his jaw and chin thoughtfully.  Turning back 
of Rastur fully, his eyes coming back into focus, Erestor offered the other a 
weak smile.  “Culdôr – see what he has to say on this.”

“And the human – Estel?” 

“Do nothing but deter him,” Erestor commanded of the Mirkwood Elf.  “If I find 
anything happens to him, I will finish you myself!  Do you understand?”  

“Perfectly,” Rastur replied with a slight smile.

“Good,” the advisor sighed, and, with a slight wave of his hand, added, “now go, 
you have work to do!”

Bowing, Rastur made his way back the way he had come and towards his room and 
the wing that held the rest of the Mirkwood envoys.  Casting one last look about 
him, Erestor also moved off, his walk once again controlled and his face as 
blank as a canvas picture.

As the Rivendell Elf made his way towards the kitchens, neither he nor Rastur 
noticed the darkened shadow of a figure that lurked by the gloomy corridor, 
hearing all and remembering everything.  

*****

Sighing, Elrohir knocked on his brother’s door again, waiting for the other Elf 
to answer.  The morning meal had passed with no mishap or excitement other then 
the announcement that the party of fourteen would be leaving the next morning.  
Both their father and Legolas had decided upon it over breakfast, claiming that 
the sooner they were on their way the better all would be and the quicker they 
could provide the help that they sort to give.  

Almost two hours had passed since the diners had made their way to their rooms, 
Legolas finally getting his wish and being left alone for more then two minutes, 
and now Elrohir was – well – he was bored.  

Banging on the door again, the dark-haired Elf called out, “oh come on Elladan, 
do not seek to pretend that you have anything better to do with your time!”  
Almost instantaneously the door was roughly pulled open and Elladan’s annoyed 
face appeared.  “Ah, good!’ Elrohir sighed while pushing Elladan out of the way 
and letting himself inside the others room.  

Sighing, rolling his eyes and half shrugging his shoulders, Elladan closed the 
door behind him and watched as his twin went and flopped down on his freshly 
made bed, his hands above his head and his feet dangling from the edge.  

“Elrohir?” Elladan asked, his voice stern and yet slightly amused.

“Humm?” the Elven Lord replied while twirling a lock of hair around his fingers 
innocently.

“What are you doing?” Elladan questioned, putting emphasis on the last of his 
words. 

Sighing, Elrohir sat up on the bed and shot his brother another of his famous 
innocent looks that, more often then not, meant that the had something to hide 
or ask.  “Well,” he sighed out overdramatically, “I was terribly bored!”

Frowning at the way his twin just finished his sentence, Elladan moved back over 
to the traveling bag he was packing for the journey that awaited them.  “Why do 
you not pack – that should keep you busy for awhile.” Elladan suggested while 
folding a white lace up undershirt and placing it in the doeskin bag.

Jumping off the bed, Elrohir looked over his brother’s shoulder and into the 
bag.  Surveying what he saw, he screwed up his nose and pointed to a brown 
jerkin.  “You are not taking that, are you?” Elrohir asked incredulously yet at 
the warning look that Elladan sent over his shoulder, the twin smiled and nodded 
his head, “I just thought it too good to get ruined!” he lied, utterly 
unconvincingly, “and besides, I have done all my packing.”

Scoffing at the Elf that patrolled his room, running his fingers over anything 
and everything, Elladan just rolled his eyes.  Elrohir had always been the first 
to act and the first to prepare – it went hand in hand with his want and love of 
organizing everything in sight.  

“Well then, do you not have anyone to say farewells to?  Oh wait,” Elladan 
corrected himself before Elrohir could say anything on the subject.  “The only 
ones for you to give such a speech to are the ones that you have already dragged 
into this mess!”  His words were said with a smile and in jest, and both knew 
that he did not resent Elrohir’s actions of volunteering himself at the council. 
 Truth be told, Elladan would have done the same thing had he had a few more 
moments to think it over.  

Looking up from tracing his fingers over the delicate carvings of the bedpost, 
Elrohir gave his brother a cheeky smile and bit his bottom lip while crinkling 
up his nose.  Moving away and yet letting his fingertips drift slowly off the 
carved wood, he moved over to the balcony and looked out and upon the beauty of 
his home.  Raising his arms and breathing in deeply, he savored the sent of the 
woods and the great river as if it were to be his last time to set foot in this 
haven.

Spinning slightly, the youngest of the twins moved over and flopped down on the 
wooden chair that stood near the writing desk.  Slumping back and letting his 
legs spread out before him, he interlinked his fingers together and placed them 
on the back of his head.  “Ah, the joys of anti-socialism!” he said with a sigh 
and a large smile that made his eyes light up.  

Not being able to keep a straight face any longer, Elladan burst into laughter 
as he drew the drawstring on his pack, pulling the folds of the skin closed and 
flipping the flap over it before he secured it with the small button and loop.  

“So, Elrohir,” Elladan started while moving over to sit on the side of the bed 
that was closest to his twin, “as much as I love these little chats of ours, 
what do you want?”

“What makes you think that I want something?” Elrohir asked quickly and with yet 
another cheeky grin.

“Because I have spent over three thousand years getting to know you and I know 
what you are like!” Elladan provided his answer without a second’s hesitation.  

“I could be changing my ways!” Elrohir offered while leaning forward in the 
chair and staring his twin right in the eyes, his hands clasped in his lap.

“Yeah?” Elladan asked sarcastically, “and I could decide that I have taken a 
liking to Arwen’s dresses!”

Shrugging, Elrohir moved his head back and regarded his older twin with 
interest.  “Well, I always did susp-“

“Elrohir!” Elladan warned with a hidden smile.

“Well,” the other said with a defeated sigh, “it could happen!”

“Not likely!  Now, what do you want?”

“I am bored!” Elrohir stated with a mischievous grin, knowing exactly how to 
play his brother.

“We have covered this. . .” Elladan said while rolling his hand over in the air, 
prompting the other to continue.  

“Well,” Elrohir went on, reaching behind him to grab a piece of paper.  Placing 
it in his lap, he fiddled with the ends, rolling them between his fingers and 
folding them over at the points.  “I do believe that I have thought of a way to 
relieve that boredom!” 

“Elrohir!” Elladan warned, all to knowing of how his twin’s mind worked and what 
sort of plans went through his head.

“It is nothing that anyone would disapprove of – well, maybe Culdôr, but what 
does he endorse?”

“Elrohir!” Elladan stated more firmly before his twin could continue with his 
pointless raving.  “Just tell me!”

“Hunting!” Elrohir said simply while placing the mutilated piece of paper behind 
him and back on the desk.  “I hope you did not need that!” he said quickly while 
motioning to the paper with his thumb, a lopsided smile on his lips.  Leaning 
back, he watched his brothers face, almost being able to see him process the 
word in his head, and, sure enough, within a few seconds, his face turned to one 
of disbelief.  

“Hunting?” Elladan asked and when Elrohir nodded, his mouth dropped open and his 
brow creased.  “Then it is true!” he stated with grief and fear, “my brother is 
insane!”

Standing to his feet and once again moving towards the window, Elrohir secretly 
smiled, “there is nothing insane about a bit of hunting, Elladan!” he scolded 
like one would if talking to a child who had disobeyed an elder.

“Elrohir!” Elladan half shrieked, “we are leaving tomorrow! It is-“

“A wonderful idea!” Elrohir finished his brother’s sentence the way he wanted it 
to sound.  “Think about it Elladan, it would be like old times – you and me, the 
prince and Gilnen, just with Estel now.  It would be fun and take our minds off 
the task at hand!”

“Elrohir!  The prince needs rest – he was almost killed yesterday.  The last 
thing that we want to do is go dragging him out on a hunting trip that will just 
tire him further.  You heard father, that drug will be in his system for days 
yet!”

“All the more reason to take him out!  Get him some nice, fresh Rivendell air!” 
Elrohir retorted while turning pleading eyes on his brother.  “Oh Elladan, do 
not make me beg?  Please?” Elrohir’s voice grew desperate and Elladan could not 
help but notice truly how young and innocent his twin seemed.  It was almost as 
if Elrohir was one hundred again, pleading with their father for something that 
his life depended on at the time.  

Sighing and running a hand through his straight, chest length dark hair, Elladan 
looked to the pleading Elf that looked exactly like him.  “Fine!” he muttered 
and when Elrohir almost jumped for joy, he raised his hand to stop his 
rejoicing.  “But you are not to bully them into coming if they do not want to 
and you are the one telling father!”  

“As you wish!” Elrohir said with a smile while hurrying out the door and pulling 
it closed behind him.  

Standing alone in his room, Elladan just shook his head once again before he 
turned towards his closet, needing to find some sort of hunting gear that he was 
yet to pack.

*****

The sun was streaming down through the thick canopy in long streaks, its rays 
shining upon the damp greens and browns of the lush forests surrounding the 
Homely House as the five riders picked their way leisurely through the dense 
undergrowth.  

They had been riding for most of the day and were still to trap any game, which, 
in all probability was due to the fact that neither of them could keep quiet for 
more then four seconds.

“You look like a thief!” Elladan informed his twin who rode beside him.  Elrohir 
was dressed all in dark browns and riding leathers and wore a pair of doe skin 
wrist gloves that flared slightly over his gauntlets.  That, with his polished 
leather knee-high boots, made his attire resembled that of a highwayman or 
pirate more so then that of an Elf.  He looked more like a sneak then even 
Estel, and compared to the other Elves who were dressed in greens and soft 
browns, he stood out like a Sindar would in the home of the Noldor.    

“He is all in black!” Elrohir pointed out while inclining his head towards 
Estel.

“Yeah,” Estel said while shooting the younger of the twins a look telling him to 
leave him out of it, “but I am a Ranger, I am supposed to be.”

“And at least he does not wear those little gloves!” Elladan laughed while 
motioning to his twins rather brigand looking gloves.

“Well, they come in handy,” Elrohir stated as if it were obvious and the others 
were the fools.

“How?” Gilnen interjected before Elladan had the chance to ask the same thing, 
“what?  Do you go around and slap people across the face and issue challenges 
with them?”

“No,” Estel corrected the other, “Elrohir here likes to keep his hands clean – 
he has a fear of dirt!”

“I most certainly do not!” Elrohir protested with a shriek to both of the 
comments.  None of them understood his ways, and, even though he would never say 
that it annoyed him, he was often irritated at the fact that he found himself 
constantly explaining his actions.   

“All of you stop it!” Legolas said with a smile, “you all know perfectly well 
why Elrohir wears his gloves so let him be!”  Nodding his thanks, Elrohir sent 
the rest of the company a smug look, glad that his friend had come to his aid.  
“Now, keep quiet and we may have a chance of catching something!”

Falling into line, the Elves slowed their horses as they came to a narrow pass 
way through two large rock faces.  They had traveled this path many a time, and 
knew it well so it did not proved any danger to the mounts or their riders.  The 
passage itself was only a few feet long and then opened up into a small clearing 
on the other side, so when they found that they had to go single file, it came 
naturally to them and without hesitation.  Gilnen lead, followed by Elrohir, 
Legolas, Estel and Elladan bringing up the rear, and as they came out into the 
open of the clearing, they slowly started to branch out and back into their 
normal riding positions.  

“Wait!” Elladan muttered while raising his hand to signal them to stop.  Legolas 
looked around them, his eyes scouring the woods that surrounded like a hawk 
while Elrohir closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the forest.  
Something was not right; something had upset the natural flow and song of the 
forest and it cried out its hurt and discomfort to the listening Elves.

Working it out an instant before the others, Elrohir ducked and lowered his 
hand, commanding the others to do the same.

A black feathered arrow shot through the leaves of a nearby tree and lightly 
grazed Gilnen’s right shoulder, causing a small flower of crimson to bloom 
against the greens of his tunic.  Left hand automatically flying to cover the 
bleeding wound even though it was but a mere scratch, Gilnen turned to the 
others, hissing a word that sent them whirling into action.  “Orcs!” 

Exchanging a quick look with his twin, Elrohir jumped from his horse at the same 
time as Elladan, both then making their way over to stand on either side of 
Legolas as he hastily dismounted.  The Elven prince gave them both a warning 
look, telling them to back off and that he did not need protection but it was 
quickly dismissed as, as one, the twins pulled both their blades from their 
sheaths.  An instant later Estel came and joined them, crouching in front of the 
prince, sword drawn and a protective scowl upon his face.  Un-slinging his bow 
and fitting an arrow to the taught string, Legolas stood tall in the middle of 
his dark-haired protectors while Gilnen stood just to the right of all four, no 
weapon in hand as he looked from tree to tree.

As the onslaught of Orcs came pouring out into the confined space with a shout 
in the Black Speech that made the Elves inwardly shiver, Legolas’ arrow hit the 
first one in the right eye, signaling for the four to split from their stance 
and make their way to their closest opponent.  

Throwing his bow to Gilnen, Legolas pulled out his two daggers and moved forward 
while the other golden Elf leapt up into the closest tree and settled himself on 
one of the thick branches.  Pulling an arrow from his quiver, the archer fit it 
to the prince’s bow and pulled the string, letting it fly.  Within moments, the 
Orcs below had not only the four blade wielders to contend with, but also a 
raining volley of arrows assailing them from above.  

Moving his upper body to the side to avoid a downward swing, Legolas stepped 
forward and sent his right blade into the back of the Orc’s neck, killing it 
before it even hit the ground, while swiping out with his left and slitting 
another’s throat.  

As both Orcs bled onto the forest floor, covering the fallen leaves black, 
another two came rushing at the Elven prince, swords held high.  Spinning his 
blades so that his thumbs rested on the top of the gold plated hilts, Legolas 
held them high, the thin and slightly curved blade running parallel with his 
arms.  

Both Orcs' struck at the same time and Legolas let his instincts take over both 
his mind and body.  Raising both blades, he caught both blows at the same 
moment, and, letting his ring and little fingers’ of his right hand slip behind 
the handle of his blade, he spun it up while pushing back on the blade stopped 
by his left.  The Orc on his left stumbled back while the one on his right 
fought to keep hold of its sword.   Kicking it in the ribs, he sent it falling 
backwards just as the other re-approached.  Crossing his right arm over his 
body, he drove the thin yet unbreakable blade into the heart of the Orc on his 
left side and, as the other came back upon him, Legolas spun and allowed the 
momentum of his movement to drive his left bow-knife into the chest of the 
other.

Pulling both blades up, he heard the gurgling sound of blood coming up their 
throats as the sharp knives cut through the vital internal organs.  As Legolas 
was about to pull the bow-knives free, he saw another Orc came running at him, 
its hands held out for attack and yet empty of any weapons.  Deciding to try a 
trick that Elrohir had once told him of, he waiting until the running beast was 
within leg reach, and, as it took its next step, he pushed off the ground with 
his feet, placing his weight on his blades that were tightly jammed in the 
bodies of the Orcs behind him.  Tightening his arms and pulling his side closer 
to his elbows, he kicked his feet out and closed his calves around the Orc’s 
neck.  

Cursing under his breath, Legolas made the best of the move, having not caught 
the Orc with his thighs’ as he was supposed to, and, wedging one calve under the 
beast’s jaw, lifted his leg, effectively snapping the neck.  Smiling to himself, 
he let the beast fall as he dropped back to the ground and pulled his blades 
free.

**

An Orc almost twice the size of him and armed with a long sword – obviously 
stolen from some now dead human mercenary – ran straight at Elrohir.  Quickly 
surveying his attacker, Elrohir knew that he would stand no chance at getting to 
him with his bow-knives and keeping his arms in the process.  

Stepping backwards slightly, he waited until the Orc was almost upon him, and, 
throwing his blades point down into the dirt on either side of him, sprung off 
his feet and into a back flip.  Gloved hands hitting the rough, stick covered 
ground, he made sure that he messed up the leaves and twigs before he pushed off 
again and sent himself into a second flip, putting more distance between him and 
the creature.  

Feet hitting the ground again, he turned and faced the beast off; waiting for 
the right moment and keeping his eyes on the place that his hands had scraped a 
small line into the foliage.  

As the Orc saw that its victim was finally still and standing, the creature 
rushed at the Elf, eager to kill it before it tried any other disorientating 
maneuvers.  

Once the beast was charging at him, its sword held out in front, Elrohir sent 
his closed fists up to either side of his head, and, as the Orc came to the spot 
where his gloved hands had hit the ground, Elrohir sprung off the ground and 
pulled down his arms with as much force as the could, sending him into a flip 
straight over the Orcs head.  As he had judged, by the time that the Orc was at 
the spot his hands had touched, he had just enough room to pass over its head 
without hitting it while not allowing the beast to get to close so to be able to 
wound him with the sword.  Hitting the ground with bent knees, the Elf finished 
the move with a tumble turn, coming right in between his two waiting daggers.  

Closing his hands around the golden hilts, he drew them from the ground and 
rose, spun on his heels and rushed toward the baffled Orc.  Coming up behind it, 
it was not until Elrohir was two paces away that the Orc noticed his intended 
victim and, as it turned, Elrohir swept both blades in opposite directions, 
severing the head from its body.

“Well,” he said as the carcass fell to the ground, “that was fun!”  Pushing a 
stray lock of hair from his eyes and mouth and placing his daggers back into 
their sheaths, the young Lord turned and was met head on by his next attacker. 

Ducking a blow to the head, Elrohir fell to his right side on his gloved hands 
and, using them to support himself, kicked up with both feet.  Feet pounding 
upon the beast’s chest, he walked his hands along the ground, pushing the Orc 
backwards and into a tree while silently pointing out to Elladan that this was 
why he wore his gloves.  Caught between the trunk of the tree and the Elf's 
kicking feet, the Orc had no time to act as Elrohir pushed off the forest floor 
with his right hand and flipped over his left, coming to stand easily on his 
feet.  Moving swiftly forward, he sent his left elbow into the side of the 
creatures head, snapping the neck with a single blow.  

**

Elladan moved his right arm up to block a punch aimed at his temple and as the 
Orc he was fighting moved its right arm, attempting the same move as before, 
Elladan again blocked it in the same fashion.  Acting quickly, he arched both 
arms, hooked the Orcs in under his elbows and arms and pulled him forward.  
Sending his knee into its groin, it slumped in his arms and as it did so, he 
head butted it and dropped his arms, allowing the beast to fall to the ground 
unconscious.  

A yell from both sides alerted him to the approach of his next two duelers, and, 
seeing that they were both running at him and neither looked as if they would 
stop for the other, Elladan stood waiting in the middle, a plan already formed 
in his mind.  

The one on his right was slightly further away, so, leaning on his left foot, he 
sent his right into its chest in a spring kick while sending his open palm into 
the nose of the one of the left.  Both stumbled back at the surprise of the 
attack, and yet, after only a moment, they ran again, swords brandished and 
ready to draw Elven blood.  

As they came closer again, Elladan made ready to do the same move, yet, as they 
were within hitting distance, he spun backwards, confusing them both which 
proved to be their downfall.

Having kept their eyes on the Elf that was now officially out of harms way, both 
Orcs', not thinking, kept running until they felt the bite of the others blade 
at their chests.  Stopping in shock at the swords’ entrance, the beasts’ looked 
to each other, forgetting the Elf that walked up to them.

Placing his hand quickly on the lower back of each, Elladan shoved the forward 
and together, running them through with the others sword.  Giving them a slight 
push, they fell over, still as statues in their strange death with their swords 
still tightly buried in the other.

**

Driving his sword through the beast’s stomach, Estel turned to face his next 
opponent only to see Elrohir leap into the air and applied a neck breaking kick 
to an Orc’s head.  The Elf landed gracefully on his feet, arms raised in front 
of his face in a defensive position as the beast almost flew through the air 
with the power of the kick.  

A sudden punch to the stomach brought Estel out of his revere of his brother and 
sent him gasping for air as he straightened up to look into the yellow eyes of 
an Orc.  Pushing the complaints of his lungs to the side, he leapt forward and 
sent his sword in a wide arch towards the creature’s midsection.  The Orc 
blocked the blow with his own sharp blade and counted it with an arch of its 
own, sending Estel’s back the way it came.  

As the force of the blow continued, Estel felt his blade slowly slipping from 
his grip as his arms became trapped at a painful angle, his sword held tightly 
under the Orc’s.  Moving as swiftly as his human reflexes would allow, he let go 
of the blade completely and ducked.  

The Orc, having placed a considerable amount of pressure on the human’s sword, 
stumbled as the blade fell to the ground, his balance thrown.  Seeing this, 
Estel pulled his small dagger from his boot and, being under the beast, sent it 
up and straight into the creature’s heart.

As it died, it overbalanced and fell forward slowly, realization on its face.  
Timing his actions perfectly as Elrohir had taught him, Estel rolled forward and 
under the falling beast, avoiding both being squashed as well as hitting its 
feet or legs.  

Grabbing his sword, he went back to join in the fight only to see Legolas push 
an arrow through an Orc’s open mouth, Elladan stab an Orc through both sides of 
the throat and Elrohir sweep a creature’s legs out from underneath it with its 
own sword, severing the beast from its knees.  The last Orc fell with one of 
Gilnen’s arrows through its temple.  

As one all four on the ground slowly walked towards each other as Gilnen swung 
down from the tree that he had been standing in.  Standing around the last Orc 
that fell, each looked out over the clearing that was dotted with the bodies of 
lifeless creatures’ and the signs of their destruction.  A rough count by 
Legolas estimated that there had been over thirty Orcs' and giving each of his 
friends a quick look over, he saw that the only one harmed was Gilnen with the 
small cut on his arm that had already stopped bleeding.

A collective sigh filled the group, and, not speaking a word, they turned 
towards their horses’ that had patiently waited over the far end of the small 
clearing.  

“So,” Elrohir said, like always being the first to break the silence, “who is 
hungry?” he finished as he swung himself up onto his horse.  Looking to his 
companions, he saw Legolas do the same, a large smile on his face, Elladan 
already seated on his mount and shaking his head while Gilnen laughed openly 
while handing Legolas his bow.

“I am,” Estel exclaimed with a smile, “though I do hope that this was not what 
we were meant to be hunting for dinner!” he said while sweeping his arm in the 
general direction of the Orcs', getting all to laugh as they each turned their 
mounts in the direction of the Homely House.  

“Tell me Elrohir,” Legolas asked the younger of the twins while turning his body 
on his horse so he could see the Elf, “that move you once showed me, have you 
ever snapped someone neck with your calves?”

Smile widening, Elrohir’s eyes twinkled as he looked at the prince.  “You 
stuffed it up, did you not?”

Hanging his head and faking shame, Legolas nodded his head, offering a soft 
“yes,” as his answer.  Lifting his head, blue eyes dancing with the excitement 
that still pulsed through his veins’, the prince offered the other a huge smile. 
 “Yet it still worked!”

“Practice makes perfect, my friend,” Elladan spoke for his twin.

“Though not for you, it seems,” Elrohir added with an impish grin.  “You would 
not all believe how many times I have tried to teach him how to do even a simple 
flip, but no, it never seems to sink in.”

Making a lung at his younger brother, Elladan grabbed only air as Elrohir moved 
his horse so that Legolas was put between the two.  “You would not hurt the 
prince, now would you?” Elrohir asked innocently while battering his eyelids and 
smiling, his tongue poking out from between his teeth slightly as Legolas rode 
along, pretending that he did not notice the way his friend was using him as a 
shield.

Glaring playfully at his twin, Elladan lifted his finger in the way that Lord 
Elrond used to when the twins where but children in the eyes of the Elves.  
“Just you wait,” he hissed dangerously, and at the faked look of terror that 
Elrohir used to counter Elladan anger, the entire party cracked, their laughter 
rising up to the tops of the trees.

*****


Chapter Six 
 

Ok, thanks to a wonderful book that I was given by a dear friend (The Tolkien 
Companion by J.E.A. Tyler, published in 1976) I have discovered that the people 
to inhabit the Blue Mountains were a bunch of Dwarves, but, for the story 
purpose, I am going to overlook that and make up my own thing! Lol.

Oh, and I was so happy, I had this whole course planned out for them to travel 
and I was going to take them by Lake Evendim (North-West of the Shire) and I was 
going to make it pretty and all, but then I was given this book, and it has a 
whole passage on it, who used to live there and the fallen city. And then, the 
best thing is that it then ties in with the Fourth Age, as, it says that Aragorn 
went out of his way to restore the beauty of Evendim and for the rest you will 
have to read on.

Also, again I remind you that it is not slash, I was just having a strange day 
and a few of the things turned out kinda cute...oh, and as pointless as the 
water scenes seems to be, it actually has a REAL purpose later on in the story. 
HINT: pay attention to detail in this chapter, especially near the end as it 
ties in with the very last chapter.

More ravings at the bottom...

Oh, I relented - I allowed Legolas to glow...

*****

The Eaters of the Dead

Chapter Six

Lake Twilight and the Tower of the Sunset.

*****

All eyes looked to Legolas, a feeling that the prince, while used to it, was 
utterly uncomfortable with. Sighing, he looked out over the lands that stretched 
before them, trying to work out the best path that they should take to reach 
their destination near the Bay of Forochel. As he should, Elrond had warned them 
of the dangers of the road that morning, telling them to keep away from as many 
human cities as possible along the way - especially Bree. Looking straight to 
the west and towards the location of the aforementioned town, Legolas knew that 
that path was then officially canceled, meaning that they could take the Old 
South Road and detour right around the human inhabited place...or they could 
head north-west and through the forsaken lands of Arnor, which was a much 
quicker route.

Looking at the Elves behind him and the human that sat upon his mount on his 
right, Legolas bit his bottom lip in concentration. He did not want to take the 
wrong road and make their journey any more perilous then what it already was.

He could feel Dúelen's eyes drilling holes in his back from the back of the 
company; Legolas took a deep breath and made up his mind.

"We shall travel North-West and approach the town directly," He only hoped that 
his voice held the confidence that he seemed to be lacking. He had been in many 
a battle, seen and lived through countless wars with the evils of his homeland, 
but, in experience, he was a diplomat. He was not taught to lead, be it an army 
or a small company. He had been taught to talk, to twist others to his will and 
to be able to discover anything about anyone. He had to make choices daily, had 
to chose the best way to approach a topic or, even in battle, a strategy, but it 
was always another giving the commands. Even if he had conspired them it was 
never he that told the soldiers of the way in which they would fight and, for 
some, die.

A scoff came from the back of the line, and -- before he even looked -- Legolas 
knew who it was.

"You plan to lead us to Fornost Erain?" Dúelen asked incredulously, while 
looking from Elf to Elf. Neither looked too impressed about the idea, but the 
Mirkwood Elf could not decide whether it was their path or his outburst that had 
deterred their spirits and put frowns upon their faces.

Fornost Erain was once the last fortress that stood against the Witch-King of 
Angmar and the stronghold of the Dúnedain in the North during the war that they 
waged with the dark presence in their land. Although the Witch- king was 
defeated by an army of the Dúnedain, Rivendell Elves and Men of Gondor, the old 
tower had never been re-established, thus reaming to become the desolate ruins 
that men now called 'Deadman's Dike.'

"If that is the way the prince says we go," Erestor cut in before Dúelen could 
continue with his protests, "then that is the way that we shall go."

"Well," Dúelen cried while looking around at the others, "I will not stay a 
single night at Deadman's Dike!"

Rolling his eyes, Legolas looked back at the Elf with an agitated pout.

"No one will be. We shall make camp in the Weather Hills and bypass it by day. 
Now, are there any more complaints or questions, or can we be on our way before 
we lose this early start?" Raising an eyebrow in emphases his question, Legolas 
looked from face to face, seeing nothing but trust in each (save for the few in 
the back: Dúelen and Rastur). "Good!" he exclaimed, while turning in his saddle 
and letting a soft whispered word pass between him and his horse.

As the company officially departed the borders of Rivendell, setting out on the 
journey to what may prove their end, Estel could not help but lean over to the 
blond Elf beside him.

"Deadman's Dike?" he asked with a gulp. As Legolas made to answer, his face 
glum, Estel once again spoke, "or is it one of the things that I should remain 
in blissful ignorance about?"

Laughing softly, Legolas gave him a wink and nodded his head, "Yes, Estel, you 
should add it to your ever growing list of topics that you are unknowing of."

Swatting playfully at the prince's head, Legolas only just managed to duck in 
time, avoiding the blow that would have, even though it had been in a 
lighthearted way, had enough force to cause a bruise. As the prince easily 
dodged the attack, all Estel's efforts brought him was the sound of Gilnen 
clearing his throat and shooting him a warning look. Apparently the Elf had 
decided to take it upon himself to protect his friend and prince, even if it was 
from Estel.

"Watch it," Gilnen mouthed over the prince's shoulder to the human before the 
Elf finally turned his gaze away.

Muttering a quiet "Sorry," Estel put his head down and looked to the ground. 
Feeling the slightest forms of rage build up inside of him, the human resolved 
to make a point of avoiding them for the rest of the day - especially Gilnen. He 
was one of them now, not some human who needed to be swatted away from the 
prince for safety purposes.

With that in mind, he continued to stare at the ground, his face set into a 
concentrated scowl and unknowing of the confused look that Legolas was sending 
him.

*****

"Oh come on, Estel, how long are you going to keep this up?" Legolas asked from 
the dark, causing Estel to jump.

The day had passed uneventfully as they made their way quickly along the path 
through the Trollshaws. Now that night had settled in, the Elves had pitched 
camp a little way off the road on the west side of the Last Bridge. All day 
Estel had kept up his vow of silence, knowing that it drove the prince insane 
with wonder. Legolas could not see why the human was not talking to him, and 
being the fact that even to Aragorn there was not real reason, it made the Elf's 
confusion all the more great and, as the human had seen, his annoyance even 
greater.

Once they had set up camp, Estel had wandered off on his own to fill up a number 
of the water skins in the Hoarwell River. Legolas, seeing the human go off alone 
and thinking that it would be the best time to gain the answers to what he 
sought, followed him.

"Keep what up?" the Man asked, while glancing quickly up to Legolas as the Elf 
almost stamped his foot in frustration. The Elf looked so young compared to the 
others, and, here under the moonlight with such a look etched upon his face, he 
appeared even younger...even younger looking than Estel.

"'What up?'" Legolas mocked in his deepest voice, trying to get the human to 
laugh, "You have been avoiding me all day! You have not said 'boo' to me or 
anyone and yet I can not think of what I could have possibly done to upset you 
so. Now speak!"

"I have not been avoiding you," he stated courtly and concisely.

Huffing slightly and moving towards the Man that was crouched by the riverbank, 
Legolas watched as the bubbles of air forced their way out of the bottles as 
they were submerged into the running stream. Seeing that the human was observing 
the same thing, he moved a little closer, and, dipping his hand into the cool 
water, splashed a generous amount up into the human's face.

Laughing at the look of pure shock that was on Estel's face, Legolas reached 
down to splash him again, determined to catch his attention. Though what Legolas 
did not expect was for Estel to catch him.

Seeing the Elf move, Estel hid his smile and, before Legolas had the time or 
misgiving to suspect anything, grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him off 
balance. Toppling over, and not quite grasping what was happening, Legolas let 
his arms lock around Estel's as he was thrown completely off guard and rather 
unceremoniously into the river.

Gripping the human tighter to him as he plunged into the stream, Legolas felt a 
rather heavy weight land on top of him, pushing his head under the cool water as 
the Man fell in.

Kicking under the water, Legolas swam out from underneath the human who, after 
realizing that he had fallen in on his Elven friend, was searching everywhere 
for him, worry in his eyes and voice. Surfacing, Legolas gasped in another 
silent breath and ducked under the water again, holding onto a rock at the 
bottom of the river to stop himself from floating up.

"Legolas?" Estel called, turning this way and that, his eyes trying to see 
through the rather deep water. Diving under, he allowed his hands to search out 
in front of him, hoping the grasp a lock of golden hair or an arm of his 
supposedly drowning friend.

Feeling his lungs screaming for air, he surfaced and called out for his friend 
again, still receiving no answer. Blind terror gripped at his heart as he 
mentally counted the seconds that Legolas had been under for, knowing that in 
all rightness he should be unconscious by now and that that would mean that he 
would be sinking.

"Legolas?" he called out again before submerging himself back into the cool 
water. Kicking down deeper, he forced himself to keep his eyes open, looking for 
any glint of golden hair in the murky depths of the river. He mentally thanked 
the Valar for the fact that, at this particular spot, the river had little to no 
current, thus giving him the glimmer of hope in knowing that his friend could 
not have drifted far.

Breaking through the surface and taking yet another deep breath, Estel felt the 
already present pounding at his temples from being so deep in the water and yet, 
pushing his discomfort aside, he vowed to keep searching till he found his 
friend, for the best or worst.

"Legol-" he was suddenly cut off when a great wave of water hit him from behind. 
Whirling around, the movement of his feet and hands the only things keeping him 
upright and afloat, he saw the golden Elf doing the same, a smile on his face 
and his tongue poking out.

Letting his heart slow down, Estel merely glared at the Elf while swimming 
towards him. "Never," he said, while grabbing the Elf's shoulders, "ever do that 
again!" Giving the Elf a small shake, he tried to rattle the smile off Legolas' 
face, but it seemed almost impossible.

"Oh, Estel," Legolas asked dramatically, "do not tell me that you were worried!"

"Of course I was worried, Legolas!" Estel said again, adding a few more shakes 
to emphasize his words. "I could not see you - I thought I had.that you had-"

"Estel!" Legolas said, trying to cut into the human's random ravings but with no 
success. "Estel." Once again his words were drowned out in the sea of baffled 
and unfinished sentences that Estel was randomly spitting out. Seeing no other 
option, Legolas just raised his hand and slapped the human upside the head. 
"ESTEL!"

"What?" the human looked stunned, holding his face and yet not really aware that 
the flesh was stinging.

"Calm down. I am fine. We Elves can hold our breaths for a great deal of time - 
there is nothing to worry about. Besides," he added with a sly smile, having 
seen that the human was once again in control of himself, "I thought you were 
not talking to me anyway!"

Pulling the Elf into a friendly hug, the human smoothed down a few strands of 
wayward golden hair before letting the prince go. "Of course I am - I just.was 
not at the time."

"And why would that be?" Legolas asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I just..." Estel started, building up the courage to make his complaint, "I do 
not like being treated like the enemy - as if I am going to hurt you and that I 
need constant watching from Gilnen."

"So that is it," Legolas stated, while swimming towards the bank, and hauling 
himself out and onto the grass in a dripping heap. Reaching down, he offered 
Estel a hand up, who gratefully took it. Before long, both were sprawled out on 
the grass, with Estel shivering slightly from the cool night. Glancing over at 
the human, Legolas saw the shivers that he was trying to hide and, boasting 
himself to his feet, he reached down and pulled Estel up as well. "Come on, let 
us get you into some warm clothes. And do not worry about Gilnen; he knows that 
you would never hurt me - it is just his way. Too many years of being in the 
same forest as Culdôr and me, I think."

*****

"What in the Valar's name happened to you two?" both Elladan and Elrohir asked 
at the same time. Frowning at each other, they took a step forward with their 
right foot only to stop, having seen that the other had done the same.

"Stop it," Elrohir exclaimed.

"Get out of my head and thoughts and I will," Elladan countered.

"Get out of my head first and you have a deal!"

"Fine."

"Good."

"Now what happened to you two?" Elladan asked after turning his attention back 
to Legolas and Estel.

"Hey, I was going to ask that!" Elrohir complained and when the two new arrivals 
cast a quick look to Gilnen, the other Elf just smiled.

"They have been doing this for ages," Nimneldor said with his own smile.

The camp was well set up, a small fire flickering in the centre with a roughly 
made cooking stand erected about it. Someone had obviously caught a number of 
small woodland birds while Legolas and Estel were 'filling the water bottles,' 
for a number of them were skewered neck to legs along a straight stick and were 
toasting over the dancing flames. The horses were tethered over near the edge of 
the small clearing, their heads down as they ate the lush green grass that lined 
the outer road. Bedrolls had been untied and lain out in a circle around the 
fire, with one in particular being closer then the others. Looking at it in the 
firelight, Legolas saw that it was Estel's.

Erthalion was sitting at the far end, a whetting stone in his hands as he 
concentrated on sharpening his two cutlasses, one of them balanced between his 
knees as he stroked the fine blade. The brothers Fëandil and Findûr were talking 
quietly in the background, Findûr obviously giving a few pointers to his brother 
in order to improve his defense. Arlhach, the Guard of Rivendell, seemed to be 
in charge of the food. As Legolas watched, he pulled out a small pot and filled 
it with ale before putting it near the fire to slowly heat. Rastur and Dúelen, 
by far the most interesting of the lost, were sitting at opposite sides of the 
camp, clearly glaring each other down as if they had an old feud that they had 
yet to settle. Erestor and Galdor were sitting next to Gilnen, swapping news of 
the world and their respective homes while Nimneldor seemed happy to just watch 
the twins argue about whom was invading whose head.

"What happened?" Elladan once again demanded, while both he and Elrohir reached 
down to retrieve blankets. Refraining from accusing the other of copying, they 
merely glared at each other as they (in perfect synchronization) wrapped the 
human and Elf in the warm, wooly cloths. Glaring at each other again, they shook 
their heads; glad that they were not always like this. As much as it seemed to 
amuse everyone else, it annoyed the hell out of them.

"Estel is what happened," Legolas said with a large smile aimed at the human.

"Hey, you splashed me first!" Estel protested up in his own defense, "It was not 
my fault you fell in!"

"You fell in?" Erestor laughed while casting the wet Elf a comical look. 
Glancing around, it seemed as if all eyes were locked onto Legolas, their 
corresponding faces all trying to hide the amusement that they found in the 
human's statement.

"He pushed me!" Legolas shrieked while pointing at Estel through the blanket.

"Did not!" Estel said as all eyes were back on him. Needless to say that his 
smile quickly fleeted.

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Oh, enough already!" Arlhach said from over near the fire. "Both of you come 
over here and have some of this - it will warm you up nicely."

Bowing their heads as if they had been scolded by a father figure, they moved 
over to the smiling guard and took the offered cups of warmed ale. As soon as 
the strong liquid slipped down their throats, both seemed to immediately feel 
better. As the others moved in to get the evening meal that Arlhach was now 
serving, Legolas for once let his mind wander off the subject of what was to 
come once they reached the Bay.

*****

Days seemed to mingle into the nights, and then back into the days as the group 
of Elves and one human traveled across Middle-Earth. Estel found it hard to 
believe that it was actually their eighth day of traveling. Due to their great 
hurry, it was a common practice for them to stop early in the night and yet be 
up and moving once the moon was high in the sky, which allowed Estel, the only 
one who needed sleep, just enough to sustain his body. Even though the Elves 
insisted that they too needed the few hours of rest, Estel could not help but 
think that they only did it for him and that, to some degree, he was slowing 
them down. To his credit, he never once complained, just being glad that they 
actually gave him the time that they did.

There had been no more protests from Dúelen, just as there had been nothing to 
suspicious about Rastur and his actions towards the prince within the last few 
days. All in all, everything had been as if it were just a typical group of 
traveling friends that were off on a joyous sightseeing trip.

It was fast becoming colder as they entered the once evil overrun land of Arnor, 
where the strange chill still lingered in the air, day and night. Pulling his 
hood tighter over his head, Aragorn looked from Elf to Elf as they rode in an 
organized group. None of the Elves seemed to be cold or even heeding of the 
frozen chill that lingered in the air and, not for the first time, he envied the 
Elves for all that they held over the humans.

It was as if it were the touch of a cold evil that seemed to slice through his 
clothing and skin, chilling him to the very bones. He had heard rumors about 
this land, about the evil that had once lived there not that long ago and, 
during this journey, had picked up on more information concerning the area from 
the talk of the Elves.

On the distant horizon, Estel could just make out a large, crumbling tower 
piercing the sky, its roof all but destroyed. It seemed as if it would have once 
been a thing of great beauty, something built to protect and aid those in need. 
But now... now it seemed to be cloaked with the darkness that had once infested 
it, turning its past friendliness into an overbearing sense of malice and hate. 
Stretching out on either side of the shadow-darkened temple, the dim outline of 
a fortified wall could be seen, some patches dipping lower then the others -- an 
obvious sign of the hardships of time and desolation.

Shivering involuntary, he tightened his grip on the front of his cape, pulling 
the two sides in together, thus making it tighter fitting, in an attempt of 
keeping out the strange cold.

Behind him he could hear Elrohir muttering to himself, speaking softly in his 
native language about how this was an evil land. To his left, Elladan did the 
same, only with words of encouragement - to his mount or to himself was unknown. 
The rest and their actions were unknown to him due to their placing and the 
quietness of the muttered words, if there had in fact been any.

Legolas rode at the front of the line, Gilnen by his side, and both were ever 
watchful. Eyes would dart this way and that, heads move from right to left and 
hands ever twitching, always ready if they should have a need to grab at their 
swords.

Even though they traveled for a good five hours past the ruins before setting up 
and rough camp for the reminder of the night, all, even Estel, could still feel 
the lingering evil that seemed to taint the air. After only a few hours in which 
even the exhausted human could find no rest, they hastily made their way 
onwards, fearing to stay too near the overthrown fort for longer than need be.

*****

They rode along the eastern side of the Brandywine River for a good twenty 
miles, using the snaking path of water as a guide to the Lake of Evendim where 
Legolas had decided they would stay for the night, and maybe much of the next 
day. To Estel he kept saying that the horses needed rest, but the human, not as 
folly minded as most thought, knew better. Legolas was doing it for him; so that 
he could have at least one full night sleep before they came to whatever terror 
was to befall them when they got to this human civilization.

Though, through all this, Estel could not say that he was ungrateful. A number 
of times one of the other Elves had found him asleep in his saddle, his head 
lolled to the side and his eyes squeezed tightly closed against the sun. Never 
before had he ridden so far and with lacking so much in the way of necessary 
sleep and rest - his human body was not made for that.

So, when Legolas proclaimed that he could see the Lake from the front of the 
line, it was with a degree of renewed excitement that Estel sped his horse up 
just a little, so that he would be next to the prince's right side.

It had been two days since the fort faded even out of Elven sight and senses. 
But Estel could still feel the cold to the point that he had to admit that, as 
they came closer to the Ice Bay, it was quickly getting colder. He knew that 
Legolas and the twins were aware that he was cold. Often when he woke from the 
few hours of rest that he was granted, he would find an extra blanket spread 
over him, or one of the twins curled up next to him, trying to keep him warm 
with their own heat.

Feeling his eyes shut involuntarily yet again, Estel felt Legolas' hand wrap 
around his arm, the Elf keeping him from falling from the saddle. Trusting the 
Elf to do just that, Estel kept his eyes blissfully closed, feeling his body 
draw strength just from the form of rest. As the demanding tug of sleep 
tightened his grip about his mind, Estel could do naught to refuse it. His mind 
finally walked away from his body, and he fell to the left.

Knowing that his self-appointed charge was about to slip out of consciousness, 
Legolas sojourned both their horses, and, wrapping an arm around the young Man's 
waist, Legolas pulled him off his horse just as he fell. Positioning the human 
in front of him on the saddle, he felt Estel snuggle into him, seeking warmth 
and comfort. Tightening his hold on the man, he spurred his horse on faster. 
Whistling over his shoulder, he heard all the Elven horses speed up whether 
their rider had instructed them to or not and making sure that Estel's mount 
still followed them, the entire company picked up the pace into a quick canter.

*****

When Estel finally woke, he was rather shocked to find himself lying on a soft 
bed, with mounds of blankets wrapped around his body and keeping him warm. 
Looking up, he received a great look at a high, arched ceiling carved with veins 
and leaves and for a moment he thought that he was in fact back in his room at 
Rivendell. After looking at the design closer, however, he knew it to be 
different to the one at his home while appearing older and in a state of 
disrepair.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he saw that he was in a large room, bigger 
then any at the Last Homely House. The bed was large and spacious yet hardly 
seemed to take up a fraction of the room. It was so large that he could not see 
the end of the space through the darkness. Looking to the window, he saw two 
things: One was that it was now deep into the night, the moon high in the sky 
and shining like a silver medallion surrounded by a thousand twinkling, 
illuminated jewels. The second was another illuminated object, this time much 
closer then any stars.

Legolas was draped over an old padded chair, his golden head buried into the 
back and his feet dangling much like how Elrohir liked to sit or sleep. He was 
under the window, his eyes open and glowing slightly like his skin, a reaction 
to the dark, the moon, and the light of the stars that he was under. This 
strange glowing never ceased to amaze Estel, no matter how everyday it was for 
one of the fair folk. Legolas was defiantly no exception as he, strangely 
enough, seemed to glow even more then any other Elf Estel had ever seen. His 
eyes, so bright even in sleep, seemed to leave small spots of blue light against 
the cushioned chair and as the breeze trickled in through the window, it lifted 
up light strands of what appeared to be gold and allowed them to dance upon the 
air like fireflies near cool water.

Pulling the blankets off himself and placing his now bare feet to the floor, 
Estel almost instantaneously felt the cold air bite through his thin shirt and 
breeches. Grabbing the top blanket, he pulled it around his shoulders and stood, 
the length of the cover dragging behind him as he made his way over towards the 
window and his friend.

Looking down on the Elf that he had known for little over a fortnight, Estel 
felt his heart open up to the glowing being. He knew that he could trust 
Legolas, that the Elf would always try to be there for him - and, as his current 
position showed, Legolas had already proved this true. Observing the Elf in his 
sleep, the human vowed to do the same for the prince. He would be there if he 
ever needed him, keep him from harm and protect him from whatever may prove to 
be a threat.

Seeing the Elf shudder slightly as the wind picked up, Estel unwrapped the 
blanket from his shoulders and tucked it gently up around the prince's chin, 
jamming it into the chair to hold it in place. Though Legolas' eyes neither 
cleared nor moved, Estel heard a small whimper as the bond pushed himself 
further into the chair, his slim right hand wrapped around the blanket and 
pulling it closer.

Hugging his arms to himself, the human moved around the chair and peered out of 
the window. Not much could be seen of the surroundings in the darkness of the 
night, but he could make out a reflection of the moon on what was obviously the 
lake. To him, it seemed as if the lake reached the very door of the building 
for, no matter where he looked, there was a starry mirror image of the sky 
above. Faintly, in the light of the moon, he could see what must have been some 
species like that of the mallorn trees of Lothlórien, their golden and silver 
glow akin to that of his slumbering friend.

The building itself seemed to stretch on right around the lake, enclosing it as 
if it were a mere courtyard. It had high towers that seemed as if they pierced 
the very sky, their tops showing of poles that once held fluttering flags of 
silk, embroidered with the emblems of Elendil.

The sound of a shifting body drew his attention back into the room and, looking 
down, he found a still asleep Legolas trying to hide further into the chair, his 
face riddled with discomfort. Smiling down at the Elf, the human moved in next 
to the chair, and, as careful and smoothly as possible, picked the young- 
looking creature up, blanket and all, and carried him towards the bed. Legolas 
stirred at the initial movement but after that, he just let his head fall 
unceremoniously onto Estel's shoulder. Laying the Elf out on the bed, he found 
one of Legolas' arms still draped around the back of his neck and, as much as he 
tried to shrug out of the hold, every time he moved he only found that the grip 
tightened.

Grunting in frustration, he pulled the blankets up and, as the Elf became 
slightly distracted with the new addition and feeling around his chin, Estel 
slipped his head out of the arm with a triumphant smile. Grabbing one of the 
many blankets that suggested the Elves had gone of a raid throughout the whole 
castle, Estel walked quietly over towards the chair that Legolas had just been 
sleeping upon.

"Do not even think about it!" a quiet voice made him stop mid-step, his left 
foot still held in the air. Slowly turning around, he saw Legolas looking at 
him, his blue eyes blinking slightly as one illuminated hand rubbed at a glowing 
face and eyebrow.

"Shh," Estel hushed the Elf before Legolas had the chance to become wide awake, 
"go back to sleep."

Yawning, Legolas nodded his head slightly while beckoning Estel back towards the 
bed. "The chair is as uncomfortable as Udûn!"

Letting out a slight laugh, Estel moved back over to he bed while Legolas moved 
over, towing the blanket with him. Settling down next to the still yawning Elf, 
the human cast him a slightly worried look, knowing that the last time Legolas 
had been so tired was because he had been drugged. But then again, the symptoms 
were set to last for awhile, so it must just be the aftereffect.

Pushing his head deeper into the pillow, Estel cast a quick look back to the 
window before pulling the blanket tighter up around his chin.

"Legolas?" he whispered, not daring to look at the Elf.

"What?"

"Can you pull your blanket up higher please?" the human's voice was small and 
almost scared-sounding as he made his rather unusual request. Sensing Legolas' 
confusion, he quickly added, "You glow too brightly - I do not think that I 
shall be able to get to sleep."

Groaning, Legolas pulled the blanket right over his head and turned over, 
rolling his eyes to himself.

"Thank you," Estel said softly while pulling his blanket further around himself. 
Once again his eyes studied the pattern on the ceiling, utterly fascinated with 
it. Above the bed there was a carved or added piece, which he could not tell, in 
the shape of a ring. From the soft light of the moon and the glowing bundle of 
cloth beside him, he could just make out its detail: it was of leaves, each one 
shaped like an autumn leaf; every second was gold, while the others remained 
silver. At the top of the Ring, positioned over the top of the bed, there were 
three gems, two green and one blue, placed into the silver leaves, the golden 
left bare.

Looking at it reminded him of Legolas - Green Leaf as his name meant - and for 
some reason, thinking of the ring and his friend was a comforting thought.

"Legolas?" he questioned again, before his mind could tell him to do otherwise.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," he said softly, not really knowing why he was saying what was 
coming from his lips, "for all that you have done for me - I mean, especially 
through this trip." A slight movement came from the other side of the bed and, 
before he had time to turn and see what it was, Estel found the archer's slender 
hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze and saying the words that he could not.

"Legolas?"

"Shut up!"

*****

Tbc.

Sorry it was such an uneventful chapter, but I had to get them from A to B and 
sadly, I had to do it with all of them alive and able to fight so that meant no 
dangerous Orc attacks, no run-ins with a Ringwraith, no more assassination 
attempts (that needs to be saved for later...) and the such. It was quite boring 
for me to write too, so I hope that it was all right for you to read.

NOTE ABOUT ALL STORIES: due to the fact that I am back at school (and my final 
year at that), I regret to announce that it may take me even LONGER *hears loud 
groans* to update them, and for that I am really sorry. I shall try to do the 
best that I can for I am not giving up on them and will always be here to annoy 
the hell out of you all!

Good news though, Yours Truly and I have another story coming up, and believe 
me, it will be both different, frightening and never before even 
contrived...want a preview...?

"he is running...he is running...he is - Yours Truly comes in - running, he 
falls flat on his face and dies a slow death when every bone in his body breaks 
suddenly and he bleeds to death on the floor.

The End."

Ok, so not quite how we envisioned it, but close enough...kinda...not 
really...at all.

Last thing, if you have not already hear, I am running a 'Dark Fanfiction' 
contest. Info and details are on my bio page as well as a link to the site and 
you still have plenty of time if you would like to enter.

Finally done, over and out, have no more to say...whatever...

Minka.

P.s. hope you liked the chapter and please review!