Second Chances

Part 12

Posted: March 2004
Author: Larien Elengasse

*****

Thranduil sat at his desk, reading his son's letter. It had been long delayed in coming to him, as the elves that had left Mirkwood with Legolas were forced to travel south on their return home; the mountain passes had been blocked by heavy snows. His fingers traced over the elegant script of his son, and when he held the parchment to his nose, he imagined he could still smell him upon it. He laid the letter down and rose from his desk, making his way through the halls and outside to his private gardens. He stood upon a small hill and looked up at the stars circling overhead. For the time being, his wood was quiet; there had been no sign of orcs since before Legolas' departure.

He thought of his son, how filled with despair he had been when he thought him lost. He had recovered from his wounds and was strong again, but his heart ached in the absence of his son and his beloved. "Fëandro," he whispered, "keep him safe, return him to me." He then closed his eyes and prayed to the Valar for their safe passage and the return of his most precious possession. He knelt upon the mound and closed his eyes, summoning the memory of his beloved.

He saw in his mind's eye his beloved's form, his long raven hair, his stormy gray eyes and pure ivory skin. He remembered his touch, his kiss, his deep voice in his ear. He remembered hands that had once been instruments of both creation and destruction transformed into instruments of love, caressing his hair, his skin, touching his very soul. Never had he remembered a time when he felt so complete as he did lying in Fëanor's arms and he ached for the Noldo as he had every moment since his memory came to him. "Melanyel, Fëandro," he whispered.

* * * *

Vairë stood with her hands clasped upon her elbows, gazing at her latest work. Her work could be a source of such joy for her at times, and at others, it could be a source of such sadness. She could not see as far into the future as did her husband, visions of history to come unfolded before her eyes in bits and pieces. A tear rolled down her cheek as she gazed upon her latest work and she felt the comforting arms of her beloved wrap around her waist.

"I cannot understand this, my love," she whispered. "Do we not love him? Have we forsaken him?"

Mandos slowly shook his head and whispered into her ear. "We will never forsake him. I have loved him ever, even when he turned his back on me and left us. Things are not as desperate as they may seem, beloved. Fëandro must pay dearly for his transgressions, but he will not always pay thusly."

She closed her eyes as her husband kissed her cheek and left her standing before her work. She opened her eyes and gazed at the tapestry before her, composed of red and black and gray. "Stay strong, Fëandro," she whispered, "we will not forsake you."

* * * *

Legolas collapsed upon the wall of the Hornburg. The sun had risen, Mithrandir had returned with Erkenbrand, and they had survived, but barely. He watched in fascination as the orcs were driven from the Deeping-coomb and into the trees. "Trees?" he said to himself. The landscape had changed; there was a great wall of trees blocking the exit to the valley. As the orcs were driven in by the White Rider and the Rohirrim, the trees began to move and strangled wails of orcs rose up from the dark depths of the forest.

His relief and joy upon seeing Mithrandir again had been nearly outmatched by Aragorn's, and he felt comforted and bolstered by the wizard's presence. Before Mithrandir's return, he had doubted whether or not they could complete their task, but he felt sure now that they had at least a fighting chance.

The battle for Helm's Deep was done, and the Rohirrim were victorious over seemingly insurmountable odds.

"Forty-two, Master Legolas!"

Legolas turned and smiled as he saw his old friend approach; he had feared that Gimli had fallen. He indulged his friend despite his exhaustion, and shouted back, "You have passed my score by one, but I do not grudge you the game, so glad am I to see you on your legs!"

The two friends clasped one another on the shoulder and Legolas winced. The Dwarf raised an eyebrow and answered, "You are wounded, my friend."

Legolas shrugged it off and answered, "'Tis but a scratch." He stood wearily and tugged upon the Dwarf's sleeve. "Come, Aragorn will be glad to see you still standing as well."

As the sun set in the west and the night sky was slowly unveiled, Legolas stood upon the high ground and gazed into the north. His eyes fell upon the great forest that was his home. He wondered how his father fared and hoped he was well. "Melin chen, Ada," he whispered. His eyes then drifted west, following the ridge of the Misty Mountains until he found Caradhras and he followed the peaks north until he imagined the High Pass to Imladris. He wondered where Glorfindel was and what he was doing in that moment. He understood the dull ache Fëanor felt for his father, as it was the same as his own for Glorfindel. "Melin chen, Glorfindel," he whispered. He looked into the night sky again. "Everyday we grow closer; each league ridden, each step taken brings us to our destiny," he said quietly.

Fëanor answered, **This will all be over one day, Greenleaf. One day you will lay in your beloved's arms and you will see your father again. The day comes in which the Darkness will pass, and Morgoth's shadow will be lifted from the world forever.**

"I hope you are right, Fëandro," he whispered. "For we risk and sacrifice much."

**Greatness cannot be achieved easily, Greenleaf. Evil cannot be defeated without sacrifice,** he answered. **Come, one battle at a time, Greenleaf. ‘Tis time to move on.**

Legolas nodded and turned back to the Hornburg to gather his horse and prepare to ride with his friends.

* * * *

Glorfindel gazed at the night sky from his balcony. The haven of Imladris was all but deserted, only he, Elrond, Arwen, and Erestor remained. Arwen refused to sail west, having promised herself to Aragorn, and she awaited news of his fate as well as her own. Elladan and Elrohir had left and rode north to meet with Halbarad, then they would ride south with the Grey Company, bearing the standard that Arwen had made for Aragorn. Elrond's sons were riding to war and that grieved their father as well as Glorfindel. The Elda felt useless waiting in Imladris when he felt he should be fighting along side the twins and Aragorn, and his beloved. Nevertheless, he was charged with Arwen's safety and had sworn an oath to Celebrían to watch over her children. Elladan and Elrohir were fine warriors, his heart told him; they had to choose their own path now, they were no longer his charge. He prayed that he had taught them well enough to survive this conflict.

Legolas' parting had weighed heavy upon his heart, and he prayed that his love was safe. Somehow, he knew that Legolas was still alive, that Fëanor would keep him safe and give him strength. All his hopes now rested upon the one that had kept them apart, and the irony of it was not lost on him. "Melin chen, Legolas," he whispered to the night, and he turned and entered his chamber.

* * * *

Pelennor lay before them as the large ships sidled up to the docks. Minas Tirith was burning. The field of Pelennor was littered with the bodies of men and horses and fell beasts. Legolas' eyes widened as he took in the carnage.

**Steady, Greenleaf,** Fëanor called to him, **Let us make war. Let us make them pay for what they have done.**

With a fell cry, Legolas leapt from the black ship, falling upon the legions of orcs with ferocity few had seen. Scores of orcs fell as he fired his bow, advancing at a run. Aragorn charged in beside him with Gimli close behind. Elladan and Elrohir leapt from the ship, slicing through the black mass of death with frightening and deadly speed. Legolas' blades rang out as he went to his knives, hacking his way through toward the field.

Éomer rejoiced upon seeing Aragorn and his allies advancing from the harbor, and he sounded another call upon his horn as the bells of Minas Tirith began to sound. The standard of the House of Elendil blew in the breeze and the citizens of Gondor rejoiced at its unfurling.

"Aragorn has come!" he shouted to his riders. "Now awakens the fury of the West!" The Rohirrim charged upon their foes from the north as Imrahil came upon them from the east. Caught between Aragorn's forces coming from the south and the Rohirrim and Knights of Dol Amroth, their enemy fell in great numbers; few survived to escape back to Osgiliath and beyond.

Legolas stood beside Elrohir with Elladan. The youngest son of Elrond knelt next to the fallen body of his friend and comrade, Halbarad. The Sinda Prince placed his hand upon the Peredhil's shoulder, offering what comfort he could. His eyes scanned the field of battle in the waning light of day. Pelennor was littered with the corpses of the dead, its grass stained red and black from the fallen. Already wagons were leaving the broken gates of the city to collect the dead and separate the bodies of those from the West from the carcasses of orcs that littered the field. The battle was done, Gondor was saved, but at a heavy price. The Rohirrim had lost nearly half their number; many trampled beneath the feet of the mûmakil or trapped beneath their bulk as they fell. Dol Amroth and Gondor had also suffered heavy losses, and the Steward had lost his mind, burning himself alive.

Legolas stood inside a small building near the citadel, watching the rain fall heavy upon the fields. The healing waters of Eru washing the blood and ruin away as it put out the last of the fires that burned in the city and upon the field. He gazed eastward, watching fire erupt from Orodruin, and his heart and mind was seized by something dark and powerful.

A voice echoed in his mind, deep and frightening, and he gripped the windowsill as he fought to resist its call.

**Fëandro…** it whispered.

**Be gone, devil,** Fëanor answered. **You will not bait me with your tricks, Morgoth mólwa. I did not fear your master, I do not fear you.**

**I will break you, foolish elf, and I will break the one that harbors your cursed spirit. You have betrayed the Valar, Fëandro, there will be no rescue from my grasp this time.**

**I do not need their aid, bringer of woe, teller of lies. You will not harm Legolas, and I will rip out your black heart and eat it before I see you get what you desire. You will be cast into the black abyss with your cursed master to cower like the dog you are, even if I must go with you.**

**You will be mine, Fëandro, as will the Prince you so cherish, and together you will suffer in my dungeons for days without end.**

**Empty threats! Be gone, skulking beast! I will deal with you soon enough**

* * * *

Aragorn and Mithrandir came upon Legolas standing in the open window. The Ranger called to his friend, but Legolas did not answer. He stepped up beside his friend and his face paled.

Mithrandir approached and immediately sensed something was wrong. Legolas' eyes were dark gray, nearly black, a fine sheen of sweat beaded upon his skin and his knuckles were white as he gripped the windowsill. Mithrandir had seen this pained expression before; it was not unlike the one that Pippin wore when he looked into the Palantír. He placed his hands upon Legolas' head and broke the hold Sauron had upon him, and the elf nearly collapsed into his arms.

Aragorn knelt over him and brushed his damp hair away from his face. As his fingers caressed the silken locks, he could see strands of black in them. "He has been transformed," he whispered in hushed tones to Mithrandir. "Look at his hair, and his eyes were gray."

"There is more to this elf than meets the eye, my friend," the wizard answered quietly. "He will be fine, Aragorn, he is strong."

Legolas gasped quietly and his eyes opened. He looked up at Mithrandir and Aragorn with bright sapphire eyes. "What happened?" he asked quietly as they helped him to sit up.

"We were hoping you would tell us," Mithrandir answered quietly. "You have seen him, have you not?"

Legolas looked at the wizard blankly for a moment then he covered his eyes with his hands, as if he were trying to block out the vision. "He called to him," he answered quietly. "He knows he is with me."

Mithrandir nodded slowly and answered, "He was his master's greatest enemy, Legolas. I believe he has known for sometime that he lives inside you."

Aragorn looked from the elf to the wizard in confusion. "What are you talking about? Who? Who does who know what about?"

Mithrandir and Aragorn helped Legolas to his feet and the wizard looked kindly upon the man. "I will let Legolas explain all this to you. I must look after Faramir." He left quietly, leaving the Dúnadan and the Elf alone.

Legolas looked at his friend and sighed. "There is much to explain to you, Aragorn," he said softly.

Aragorn guided him to a chair and sat across from him. "I have plenty of time to listen, " he answered quietly.

Legolas smiled gently and nodded, as he began to relay the tale of Fëanor.

Melanyel = I love you (Quenya)
Melin chen = I love you (Sindarin)
Morgoth mólwa = slave of Morgoth (Quenya)

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