Title & Chapter Number: I Lhathron 6/?
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: PG-13ish heading to NC-17 territory
Disclaimer: I don't own anything written by Tolkien (blah blah blah). I write strictly for my own enjoyment (blah blah blah). I do claim any original characters created by me (blah!).
Warnings: Het sex
Betas: Cristine (thank you thank you thank you !)
Cast: Legolas/OHFC, OHFC/OMC
Timeline: AU, approx.. 2500 Fourth Age
Spoilers: None
Summary: Humans have seriously dropped the ball. Middle-earth is in a state of chaos. The elves that didn't leave for the West are in denial and have sequestered themselves (not that it matters cause everyone thinks they are a myth anyway) in the forest. Now a new threat is growing in Middle-earth. Can the guardian, I Lhathron, Legolas and friends defeat the shadow?
Notes: I suck at summaries so don't be put off by the above babble. This is my very first fic so be kind! Oh and I will try desperately not to beg for reviews but you know how that goes - checking several times a day to see if anyone has bothered to acknowledge your heart & soul - opps I mean story *wink*.
One other thing, I am given to grandiose schemes so in my head this is a huge complex story with many twists and turns. My writing style is such that things might be a little unclear at first but if you sit tight and read on everything is revealed :)
~ indicates thoughts ~
Dim shall the music of the Eastern world grow - Fragment from I Lhathron*
~*~*~*~
Ilorin peered through the arched doorway of her room into the hallway beyond. At the bottom of a short flight of stone stairs stood Legolas and Aduial, gesturing for her to follow them. Lifting the hem of the simple black dress Aduial had given her, Ilorin cautiously descended the stairs. The hallway was wide and surprisingly airy, given that it was largely below ground level. Windows near the ceiling and strategically placed mirrors illuminated the space with bright sunlight. Steeling her resolve, Ilorin quickened her pace and joined the two immortals. Aduial smiled warmly and linked her arm with Ilorin's. The tour had begun.
Several hours later Ilorin was awed and impressed (though hopelessly disoriented) by the settlement of the immortals. The stone halls had been only the beginning of what Aduial and Legolas had shown her. After an hour or so of walking the polished stone halls, they had ascended another flight of stairs to a heavy door that led outside. There again, Ilorin saw the trees of the forest and found herself nearly overwhelmed by their immense overhanging branches. As they walked the winding paths through the trees, Ilorin's fingers itched for the silver flute in her pack. She wanted to sit for a few hours among them and play until the melody of the forest sang through her music. She did that in every new place she encountered. It was her way of knowing the spirit of the environment, playing the "Music Unheard" as she called it.
Along the paths they came upon shops, businesses, parks and gardens. Ilorin saw many of the places she would expect to see in a thriving village, and even a few things she did not expect, such as dwellings built among the limbs of trees. Curiously, at least to Ilorin, they did not encounter many people. The few they did see bowed to Legolas and spoke a few words of their language while unabashedly staring at Ilorin. They all exhibited shock, curiosity, disgust or some mixture thereof. Ilorin generally looked away or stood a small distance from the immortals that greeted Legolas and Aduial. Though mildly insulted by their reactions, she decided it was best to distance herself and determine later how to engage immortals other than Legolas and Aduial.
Eventually they came upon a large stone building set within a clearing. The building was circular in shape with tall windows and many small balconies. The surrounding grounds where beautifully manicured gardens of shrubs, fragrant flowers and fountains. A wide path lined with pink, flowered trees lead from the edge of the clearing to the tall double doors of the building.
"I think you will enjoy this building Ilorin," smiled Aduial. Ilorin gave a half smile in response still unable to comprehend the language Aduial had been chattering in during most of the tour.
"She does not understand you, Aduial. Yet still you chatter on like a forest bird," said Legolas somewhat amused at Aduial's continuous stream of conversation.
"Well," began Aduial, "how do you expect the poor woman to learn our language if we do not speak to her?" Though both elves chose not to mention it, the fact that the other inhabitants of the village largely avoided Ilorin had disappointed them. Not that either elf was surprised -- even after the cleansing of the forest, the elves of Eryn Lasgalen had never gotten over their suspicion of strangers. Human visitors, a rarity even in better times, had always roused distrust.
They continued up the path to the doors of the building. Legolas opened them and gestured with a small bow for Ilorin to enter. Nodding her thank-you, she stepped across the threshold. Inside her eyes widened with delight. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with books of every imaginable size, shape and color. To her left, a wrought iron staircase spiraled up to the narrow walk way that formed the second level of the library. In the center of the room, several large tables surrounded by graceful wooden chairs stood on black tiled floors. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating the private nooks created by artfully arranged bookcases.
Ilorin stepped forward to the nearest shelf and carefully removed a green leather bound book. She reverently flipped through the thick vellum pages. They were covered in scrip unintelligible to her. Gingerly replacing the weighty volume, she turned back toward the two elves. A grateful smile graced her features. Ilorin had an intense love of books and learning. Though she could not read the script of the books in the immortals' library, just knowing that these people treasured learning enough to amass such a collection greatly esteemed them in her eyes. The opportunity to study in one of the great libraries of Hassana at the Temple Imani had weighed heavily in her decision to petition for the novitiate.
Legolas and Aduial stood by the door, watching Ilorin's reaction. She radiated an almost childish delight at the sight of the library. Both elves found themselves smiling warmly at her. Legolas felt a soft place forming in his heart. Before he left for Valinor, such love of books had been uncommon among humans, even those of the historically learned higher classes. After his return, he had found nearly all human places of learning in a state of sad neglect and disrepair centuries in the making. It was comforting to know that somewhere in Arda, societies of humans that valued knowledge and learning still existed.
"It is my opinion that the library is an excellent location for Ilorin's language lessons," said Legolas.
"I agree," smiled Aduial.
"So, this is the human who now inhabits our realm."
Ilorin, Legolas and Aduial turned toward the new voice. Walking silently down the spiral staircase was Henoh'th, King Thranduil's head advisor. He had stood unnoticed near the top stair, observing the trio below. He held no appreciation for humanity, and had been dismayed to learn that one of them was actually allowed in their forest. He was highly suspicious of humans in general, and one that arrived by foreign magic was particularly untrustworthy in his estimation.
"Yes Henoh'th, she is," said Aduial with narrowing eyes. She did not like him. Over many long years in Thranduil's realm, they usually found themselves on opposite sides of issues important to the king.
Ilorin immediately sensed the tension between Aduial and the new immortal. She observed him closely. He was dressed in rich silken robes of greens and browns. Long, silky dark hair, braided in a fashion similar to Legolas's, hung down his back. His demeanor spoke of one accustomed to wielding power and influence. His eyes, grey as an overcast sky, thoroughly assessed her. As he looked away dismissively, it was obvious to Ilorin that he found her lacking.
"Does she have a name?" The slight sneer in his voice was evident to all.
Turning toward Ilorin, Aduial, in direct defiance of custom, said, "Ilorin, I present to you Henoh'th, advisor to King Thranduil."
For the briefest of moments, Ilorin thought she saw the new immortal's placid face wrinkle with anger. She found herself cursing the language barrier once more. She did not know what Aduial had said, but from the new immortal's reaction it had been some kind of insult. She decided that he was not to be trusted. During her years in the social circles of the Mage class, she had encountered many of the type she suspected he was. They thought nothing for those whom they considered either beneath them or useless in their personal plots and intrigues.
If Ilorin could have read the deep places of his heart, she would have found Henoh'th's disdain and animosity was not exclusively targeted at her, but at all humanity. Those strong emotions were fueled by the pain and frustration of hopelessness. He, like the remaining elves, knew the elves were adrift in the crumbling lands of Middle-earth, their spirits slowly fading.
Henoh'th glared at Aduial. He was an elf of high caste, so Ilorin, a mere human, should have been presented to him. His gaze told her that he would not forget the slight she had just delivered him. "King Thranduil bid me to collect her. He wishes an audience."
He hand closed around Ilorin's wrist and he began tugging her in the direction of the door. Outraged, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and took a few steps backwards. Her black eyes smoldered with anger and more than a small amount of fear.
"I am not going anywhere with you!" Ilorin said in her native tongue. Though he did not understand her harsh human language, Henoh'th's grey eyes darkened like storm clouds at her obvious defiance. He moved toward her determined to enforce his will. Swiftly Legolas stepped in the narrowing space between them. The situation was rapidly deteriorating, and he would not allow Henoh'th to injure Ilorin or engage in behavior unbecoming of an elf.
"Henoh'th," began Legolas using a tone that subtly but clearly denoted his rank, "lead us to my father." Henoh'th's face once again became a placid mask of elvish formality. Bowing to Legolas, he pivoted on his heel and began walking toward the double doors of the library. Legolas turned to face Ilorin. He saw the light of anger fading from her eyes, only to be replaced with worry and hesitancy. Seeking to reassure her, he placed his right hand gently on her left shoulder and gestured toward the doors.
"Ilorin," he said in a gentle tone, "will you please come with us?" The compassion in Legolas' words, even without meaning, engendered a sense of trust within her. She did not believe he would lead her to harm. Ilorin nodded slowly. At her acquiescence, Legolas smiled warmly. His hand slid gracefully from her shoulder to the small of her back where he applied just enough pressure to guide, but not force. All four left the library and walked the winding paths to see Thranduil.
~*~*~*~
King Thranduil stood near one of the large second story windows of his informal throne room. He was watching the approach of his advisor, his son, Aduial and the mortal woman. His eyes focused on the woman, remembering his last exchange with Legolas. With two days to mull over their meeting, he had concluded that his words were unduly harsh. He still believed that he son had been remiss in the duties of his station, but as King, it was his duty to lead by example and not allow his emotional involvement to over take his reason. As the older and wiser of the two, his loss of temper was inexcusable. Though he did not regret using the situation with the woman to bring Legolas back to his responsibilities, Thranduil had decided to make amends toward his son.
As they walked, Ilorin continued to feel frustration at their inability to communicate. She wanted to know where Henoh'th - she believed that was his name - was leading them. She felt a certain degree of unease at following him anywhere. His previous actions made her bristle uncomfortably in his presence, and the tension that still hung in the air did not help her quickly fraying nerves. She focused her gaze downward, once again breathing deeply, seeking a state of calmness and serenity.
They entered a two-story stone building set partially among the trees. The interior was elegantly decorated in purple with silver accents. To Ilorin, it appeared to be a waiting room, with many comfortable looking chairs and couches. Tired after their long tour, she looked longingly at those chairs as they climbed a wide stone stairway to a landing with a large wooden door. Henoh'th knocked and opened the door for the trio to enter. Inside was another opulent yet elegant room. Ilorin stood by the door, slowly taking in the surroundings. Overhead there was a high vaulted ceiling, painted with scenes of lands and immortals unknown to her . There were large windows through which late afternoon sunlight streamed. Tapestries of superb detail hung on the walls, and thick purple rugs lay on the slate tile floors.
Her eyes fell upon a low dais where, straight and tall, sat another immortal. He was dressed in robes of green with intricately stitched leaves of gold thread. Long blond hair hung past his shoulders framing a face untouched by age, but which still wore a mask of maturity and wisdom. It was obvious to Ilorin, even had she not seen the small circlet of gold glittering upon his head, that he was their ruler. His entire being emanated power and command. But it was his eyes that ensnared Ilorin. In their bright blue depths swirled the pain, joy, triumph and experiences of millennia. Lost in his gaze, Ilorin hardly noticed when Legolas took her elbow and walked her forward toward Thranduil's throne.
"King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen, I present to you Ilorin," said Legolas in a tone of stiff formality. Ilorin once again cursed their language barrier as she heard Legolas' voice. She assumed that he was presenting her to their ruler. Surprised, she found herself bowing in a low curtsy to him. It had been long years since she bowed to anyone. In Hassana, her family was the highest of the Mage class. As a symbol of their status, no adult of their name ever bowed to anyone.
"Ilorin," said Thranduil as he stood and stepped off the dais. He began walking around Ilorin in a slow circle. She was dressed in a simple black sleeveless dress and collarless, long-sleeved white shirt. Her hair fell in a thick braid down her back. Errant spirals and crinkly curls had escaped and framed her brown face. ~Though tall and finely made like the Edain, she otherwise does not resemble any human I have seen.~ Thranduil circled to face her. With his right hand, he gently but firmly held her chin, tilting her face from side to side. ~She is definitely human, though there is something odd about her.~
Ilorin was growing steadily irritated by Thranduil's appraisal. ~He behaves as if I am cattle.~ When he held her face, her eyes narrowed with anger. It was only the knowledge that she was completely at his mercy that kept her from wrenching her head away from him. Upon noticing her obvious anger, Thranduil smiled slightly, pleased that though she had some backbone, she also possessed enough wisdom to submit when necessary. He abruptly dropped his hand, and turned toward Legolas.
"She seems harmless enough," said Thranduil dismissively. "She speaks no language that we understand?"
"No."
Thranduil gaze turned back to Ilorin as he continued, "Pity that. I believe she would have quite a few interesting things to say. I want her speaking with us as soon as possible. We need to question her about where she's from and what her purpose here may be." Once again he turned from Ilorin and walked back toward his throne to sit. "Until then, my previous orders remain in place. She may be given free rein but I want her escorted at all times. Aduial, please see our guest back to her quarters."
Aduial bowed and motioned for Ilorin to follow her out the door. Ilorin bowed slightly, and quickly followed behind Aduial, relieved to be escaping Thranduil's scrutiny. Aduial was also grateful to be leaving the presence of the king. She held knowledge that, by law, should be shared with Thranduil, but the weight of her guardianship forbade such disclosure even to her liege. She feared he might detect her guilt.
Legolas also bowed and turned to leave, looking to escape the tension of the throne room. "A word with you Legolas," commanded Thranduil. Legolas paused mid stride. A small grimace danced across his face before the familiar _expression of neutrality replaced it. He turned toward his father once more.
"Yes father."
"I would speak to you of our last meeting," Thranduil paused , "Though there is no doubt to the rightness of my charges against your actions regarding the duties of your tittle, I was overzelous in the strength and emotionality of my reactions." He stepped down from the dais and approached Legolas as he spoke. "Legolas, we cannot continue to breathe life into the animosity that stands between us. In these troubled times, " he paused again to gauge Legolas's reaction to his subtle reference to the discord in Middle-earth, "it serves neither the realm, our people or ourselves to exist in a state of constant dissension."
Legolas' shoulders sagged imperceptibly. His father was correct; dissent would not serve anyone or anything. He had not returned to replay old conflicts in the land of his birth. He could not allow arguments with his father to distract him from the slow decay of Middle-earth or his personal quest for peace. Yet, he chafed at blind obedience. Legolas looked directly into his father's blue eyes, so similar to his own and said, "She is the leash you would tie around my neck, harnessing me to a tittle we mutually agreed was dissolved." His tone was deadly calm.
Thranduil pursed his lips before speaking, judging how best to proceed. It was true that when Legolas left for Valinor, they agreed that he would no longer carry the tittle of Prince. But now he was back, and circumstances were different. He did not believe it was by chance that the Valar allowed him to return. There was no doubt that his son was there serve their people once again, even if he needed incentive. "Yes," he said simply, "she is that. But not without reason.
"Legolas, I have spent many long millennia on the throne in this forest. There have been uncountable occasions when I deeply resented the weight of that responsibility, especially in the beginning. But eventually, I came to realize that, even though we are individuals, we are also beings of the world and thus instruments of the Valar. Often, this means honor and duty bind us to choices we would not otherwise make. Circumstances, set into motion in ages past, rule our lives just as our decisions and our actions now will rule the future.
"Son, sometimes the Valar lead us where we would not go. Their will is strong; fight if you must, but remember, they make choices from a plan that we know not. Choose wisely from the paths set before you." Legolas stood silently before his father, his mask of neutrality firmly in place, though behind it swirled an aggregation of complex emotions.
Thranduil sighed and beckoned his son to exit. As the door closed softly behind Legolas, he walked back to the window near his throne. A few moments later he saw his son striding purposefully toward the forest, his movements tense. ~I have said all that can be said to Legolas. He shall either accept his place and his charge, or leave the realm.~ With that thought, Thranduil dismissed that problem from the forefront of his mind. ~I have much to research tonight.~
That night, and many nights after, he spent hours searching for references to Ilorin's arrival and what it could mean for his people. He did not believe that it was chance that brought her to his forest. If at all possible, he was going to find out why.
~*~*~*~
Once he was deep within the forest, Legolas began to run. Weaving between the trees, feeling the wind caress his face as he raced away from the city. Eventually he came to a long-abandoned target field. He had been using that field to practice since his return to the forest. He walked over to a hollowed-out tree near the edge of the field and removed a spare bow and many quivers of arrows. He than began to loose arrows with deadly speed and accuracy amongst the targets set at the other end of the field.
Hours later the sun had finished her journey across the sky and the moon was rising. Legolas walked across the field and began gathering the arrows. The hours of focused practice had brought a meditative stillness to his mind. He now felt ready to understand the choices he had made.
He would accept the charge of the woman, though not because his father would force him. It was only because his soul told him that was the path he must take. He sighed deeply. There had been a time when he refused to abide by the whispers of his heart and soul. For centuries during his youth, he had played the role of Prince quite effectively, standing at his father's side as his second-in-command. However, maintaining his role as prince meant disassociating himself from the inner voice of his soul. A voice that insistently whispered that he was neither complete nor happy in his life. As an elf, he could not exist in such a state of separation and remain alive.
When the opportunity to become a member of the Fellowship of the Ring presented itself, he had listened to his soul and joined the quest. After Sauron had been destroyed, he knew he could never go back to his empty existence as Prince of Mirkwood. That had meant abdicating his title and creating a deep rift between himself and his father.
Legolas felt his thoughts turning toward his centuries in Valinor. To live amongst the Valar was to be touched by unimaginable grace. Their power and wisdom created a light so bright and pure that those elves who had never dwelt among them were nearly blinded by their very presence. The elves of Middle-earth found undying joy in Aman, but not Legolas.
Each year, he found his thoughts turning east with increasing frequency. There was a constant restlessness within him that overshadowed the beauty of the Undying Lands. Eventually, even the light of the Valar was not enough to keep his mind and soul in the West. Middle-earth called to him and he answered, though the chaos and decay he witnessed upon his return had served only to further burden his soul. He criss-crossed the land, traveling in secret, wondering why the Valar, who created Middle-earth with such love and care, could abandon it so thoroughly.
He now concluded that it was part of the Valar's plan that he return to Middle-earth in its time of need. Of all the elves in Valinor, he was the only one who continued to exhibit attachment to the mortal lands and their people. That must be why they allowed him to return. With Ilorin's arrival, he knew she was somehow important to the circumstances they had set in motion. His task, for the foreseeable future, was to understand what part he had been chosen to play. ~It appears the Valar would not have me done with Middle-earth, the forest or this title. So be it. But, this time I will do this my way.~
~*~*~*~
* I Lhathron - one in a series of poems authored by an unknown human seer.
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