Title & Chapter Number: Wish Upon The Stars (Part 2 of the 'Pilgrim' story arc) 2/?
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: The Woodland Chronicles
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Middle-earth and all its inhabitants are Tolkien's, not mine. I don't mean to steal them; I'm just borrowing them for my enjoyment.
Warnings: Lots of character development, not much sex. Sap and angst. Twincest
Betas: Jilly. Still the best.
Cast: Haldir, Legolas, Rúmil, Orophin, Celeborn, Galadriel, the entire Lothlórien bunch. Elladan/Thranduil/Elrohir are the only ones getting it on for now, though. There might be new pairings as the story develops.
Timeline: Third Age, approx. 440 years prior to the Fellowship.
Spoilers: Nope.
Summary: Legolas arrives in Lórien to begin his training as a warrior under Haldir's supervision. In the process, he discovers things about himself he'd never dreamed of. Haldir, in the meantime, finds that even one immortal is never too old to learn.
Notes: For this chapter, I had loads of help from Mr. Tolkien himself (for the descriptions of Caras Galadhon in particular), and from this site: http://lorien.elusivedreams.net/lorien/history.htm (for the history-lesson with which this chapter begins). So yeah, you could say I stole some phrases. Here goes the credit!
Chapter 2 - Between Anduin And Celebrant
Lórien
Of old an elven realm lay in the angle between the Great River Anduin and Celebrant, the swift-running. Lothlórien the Fair it was called, a land of trees: mellyrn as the Elves called them, and Lórien was the only land in Middle-earth they graced with their presence. Their tall, strong trunks had a smooth, grey bark, and in springtime they carried yellow flowers amid the green in their boughs. When fall came, they did not shed their leaves; the leaves turned to gold instead, giving Lórien a roof of gold.
In the first half of the Second Age, Sindarin Elves, fleeing the destruction of Beleriand, migrated east and merged with the Silvan populations of Greenwood the Great and Lórien, a peaceful little settlement at that time. A Sindarin noble called Amdir became King of Lórien, and in the time that followed, the Lórien Elves were gradually sindarized under the influence of Beleriandic lore and culture.
After the War between Sauron and the Elves, which ended in 1701 with Sauron's withdrawal to Mordor, Lórien became watchful. It was visited frequently by Galadriel, the keeper of Nenya, and her husband Celeborn. These two wise Elves consulted with the Lórien Elves regarding their defense, for Galadriel perceived the strategic importance of Lórien's position and wished to see the fair land safe and unspoilt by evil.
Nearly two thousand years passed in relative peace. Until Sauron rose again, with renewed strength, and a new darkness threatened Middle-earth. In the year 3430, the Last Alliance of Elves and Men was formed; a memorable union of the races in a final attempt for victory of light over darkness. Amdir and the Elves of Lórien joined this alliance and marched to war. When Amdir fell in the terrible Battle of Dagorlad, his son Amroth took command of the Lórien Elves, and when the war as well as the Second Age ended with the fall of Sauron in 3441, Amroth, now King of Lórien, led a sorrowful remnant of Lórien Elves home.
In the first millennium of the Third Age, Lórien was again a peaceful land, ruled by Amroth. Lore has it that this king adopted several Silvan customs to win the love of Nimrodel, a Silvan Elf; but his love was not returned for many long years. One of these customs was the construction of talans, or flets, high in the trees. This first city of trees afterwards became known as Cerin Amroth.
Then a shadow fell over Greenwood, and it was renamed Mirkwood. In the following centuries, the shadow deepened and evil things multiplied in Mirkwood, threatening Lórien. Galadriel and Celeborn still visited frequently to consult with Amroth, and Lórien became a guarded land, always keeping a watchful eye to the east.
In the year 1980 of the Third Age, a Balrog appeared in Moria, accidentally awakened by the Dwarves, who consequently fled their mines. Orcs and other evil creatures were drawn to Moria and fell upon Lórien from the unprepared western side. Many Elves fled to the south, seeking the Sea and a haven from which to sail west. Nimrodel turned to Amroth, but declared she would not wed him except in a land of peace. This determined Amroth to abandon Lórien and seek the havens together with Nimrodel, but both were lost in the attempt.
Fearing the total loss of Lórien, Celeborn and Galadriel came to the fair land so close to their hearts and rallied the Elves remaining there. Under their guidance, the Galadhrim again established control over the borders and drove out the evil creatures that were ravaging the woods. Celeborn and Galadriel were then hailed as the new leaders, but, respectful of the memory of Amdir and Amroth, they did not take any title as King or Queen, but became the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. Caras Galadhon was built as their chief dwelling, the capital city and fortress of Lórien. Here, on the highest talan of the great central mallorn tree, a watch is ever kept on the distant threat of Dol Guldur.
In the year 2063, the Grey Pilgrim called Mithrandir went to Dol Guldur to spy out its secrets. Lórien's strategic position, already recognized by Galadriel, proved essential here. Sauron, however, withdrew to Mordor to avoid being discovered, thus beginning the Watchful Peace. At the return of Sauron to Dol Guldur in 2460, the Watchful Peace came to its end, and Lórien, fearing for the safety of their fair land, again guarded its borders carefully. Galadriel and Celeborn ruled Lórien with wisdom and devotion, and the power of Nenya protected the land from the inside.
On a bright summer evening in August, 2580, a party of twenty-two Elves, returning home from a journey to Northern Mirkwood, arrived at the borders of the Golden Wood. With the growing darkness in Dol Guldur, in Southern Mirkwood, the Lórien Elves did not often travel that way; but in these times more than ever, bonds of friendship between the different elven realms were essential, and the purpose of the journey had been to visit King Thranduil's court and attend the feast celebrating Prince Legolas's coming of age; a highly important event in the life of a young prince.
Upon perceiving the tree tops of Lórien for the first time, their faces lightened up; for it was good to be home again, in fair Lothlórien, and a journey through Mirkwood always held the threat of danger. But it had been an uneventful journey, and it was with bright faces and chattering voices that the Elves rode towards the woods that were their beloved home.
One of the Elves was surprisingly silent, but his face was as bright as the others' as he gazed in wonder at the trees ahead, a light in his eyes. He was not clad in the colors of Lórien, grey, white and black. No, he wore the greens and browns of Mirkwood; also, a dark-green, hooded cloak wrapped around his shoulders and, strapped to his back, a dark mahogany bow with fine, silver decoration. The arrows in his quiver weren't topped with the Lórien-white feathers, but with red and brown. In Mirkwood, this young Elf would blend in with the trees; here in Lórien, he seemed slightly out of place.
Legolas of Mirkwood gazed around him, in awe of what his eyes beheld. He'd heard much about the Golden Wood, but he'd never seen it with his own eyes and the beauty exceeded every story he'd ever been told. To finally see it was a much-anticipated, but still unexpected pleasure. They passed tree after tree, and Legolas studied them all with curiosity. These trees were foreign to him, he did not understand their whispers as their leaves rustled in the twilight. He was intrigued, wished to know their voices...
Anyriand, a Lórien politician and a friend of Thranduil, came to ride beside him. "And, Legolas," he smiled, "what do you think of Lórien so far?"
"It's amazing," Legolas said truthfully. "It feels so ancient, and yet the air is filled with scents, and life... It feels fresh, somehow, and pure; and even though the Sun is gone from the skies and evening drawns near, it feels like a place of light. It's so different from Mirkwood," he mused.
"It has not always been so," Anyriand said. "There was a time that we feared the light of Lórien might be lost. Had it not been for our Lord and Lady, our fair realm might have fallen into darkness..."
Legolas nodded. The history of Lórien was known to him, and the thought of this fair forest being trodden and inhabited by Orcs made his skin crawl.
"Will I meet the Lord and Lady soon?" he asked curiously.
"Of course. They always greet new guests personally." Seeing Legolas's face, Anyriand laughed softly. "No need to be nervous, Legolas! They walked this earth long before you and I were born, but they are kind and hospitable to any Elf that comes hither. And they know your father; they will be delighted to meet you."
Legolas smiled thankfully at the honey-haired Elf beside him. For the first time, he actually felt genuinely and positively excited about this journey. He had been devastated when his father had first told him about his decision to arrange this, and he knew he had been terrible company to the other Elves, that first day after departure. He now felt ashamed about that. After all, he was the Prince and an adult now; he shouldn't be giving in to such childish emotions. People would think his father hadn't raised him properly!
But that first night, by the fading fire, Haldir had come to sit by him. Legolas's heart had thumped wildly when he first realized that Haldir knew he was awake while he pretended to be asleep, but when Haldir had wordlessly tried to comfort him, Legolas had felt so ridiculously thankful that he'd nearly burst into tears. He had not, thank goodness; and in the end, he'd found some real sleep. He'd never heard Haldir walk away. The following morning, it was Haldir's voice that awoke him. A touch on his shoulder. For all he knew, the warden had sat by him all night... But that was of course a silly, elfling's thought.
After that first day of travel, he'd tried to disguise his grief and join in conversation and merriment. Show Haldir and the other Elves that riding with them was not punishment to him. And once the trees of Mirkwood were behind them, he had indeed felt better. Still, the other Elves seemed unsure about how to approach him. They were all awfully polite, especially the guards; calling him 'Prince', even 'Lord', every ten seconds. But whether they really *liked* him, he could not tell. They were mysterious, those Lórien Elves... Most of the time he conversed with Anyriand, with Haldir, or with Haldir's older brother, Orophin.
That first morning after departure, Legolas, feeling a bit ashamed about his childish behaviour the night before, had given Haldir a shy, thankful smile. Haldir had smiled back at him; telling him, it was all right. When Haldir had called him 'Prince' again that morning, Legolas had made a playfully impatient gesture. "By Elbereth, Haldir - stop being so horribly polite and call me Legolas. Please." He'd blurted it out without thinking, but he didn't regret it. Haldir had simply given him one of his charming little smiles, and had called him Legolas from that moment on. Legolas had also convinced Orophin to do the same, but with the others, he hadn't been successful so far.
The conversations with Haldir had been nice. Nice, and pleasant... but always polite. Oh, he was kind, Haldir; kind and gentle and entertaining and nice to talk to... but always correct and somehow, slightly untouchable. Legolas had already sensed this the first time he'd talked to the guardian privately. Unreadable, was Haldir of Lórien. Unreadable his dark eyes; beautiful and enticing, but unfathomable. Legolas often found himself staring into those deep pools of mystery, hoping to see the veil lift, be it only for a brief moment... to see more of the one who was Haldir... But it hadn't happened so far.
Orophin was different. He was a good-humoured Elf who loved to laugh and make merry. He enjoyed life to the fullest, Legolas could tell. His eyes were light and unshrouded; shone with affection for his younger brother... For Orophin cared deeply for Haldir; that was clear to Legolas. Always trying to involve his taciturn brother in merriment, draw him into conversation. And Haldir would let it happen, with a tolerant smile. Always so calm that one. In fact, Legolas wondered if Haldir ever lost his temper. If he ever shrugged off that self-control, that composure, and became angry, or impatient, or passionate... If so, then Legolas had yet to witness it.
Suddenly, a light touch on his arm and Legolas jerked out of his daydream. Turned his surprised face towards Haldir's smiling one, as the warden was suddenly riding beside him.
"Haldir," he said.
"Come..." Haldir said. "Ride ahead with me. I want to show you something."
Legolas followed him in surprise, curious what the older Elf wanted him to see. They rode ahead for a minute or two in a slow trotting pace, then Legolas noticed that the forest was thinning.
"Not much longer now," Haldir promised. "Do you smell the flowers?"
His heart jumping at the unfamiliar sound of excitement in Haldir's voice, Legolas inhaled deeply the pleasantly fresh evening air. "I smell them!" he said.
"Elanor and niphredil," Haldir explained. "They grow the most beautiful at Cerin Amroth."
"Will you show me?" Legolas asked boldly.
"Of course." Haldir laughed softly. "Didn't I promise you to show you everything?"
Legolas cast a sidelong glance at Haldir. He couldn't be sure from the side, and the dusky twilight was deceiving, but he thought he caught a sparkle in the guardian's eyes. He must really love Lórien, Legolas thought. Look at how he smiles...
Then suddenly the trees fell away beside them and Legolas's attention was redirected to the scene in front of him. They had come to a small clearing. It ended to the south in a ridge, where the rocky ground suddenly sloped down to a lower level. The lower ground ran on for a mile or two, until suddenly it rose again to a great height. A green hill encircled by a wall of the same color, and upon the hill mallorn trees grew, the tallest ones Legolas had seen so far. In their long, many-tiered branches and amid their leaves, countless lights were glowing; green, gold and silver in the darkening twilight air.
Legolas gazed at the scene breathlessly; he didn't think he'd ever seen something so beautiful, or so elvish. And it was so peaceful... it was hard to believe that this fairest of realms could actually be threatened by evil, by anything disharmonious.
Haldir studied him from aside, gauging him for his reaction. Apparently, it was satisfactory, for Haldir smiled and said, "The first time your eyes behold Caras Galadhon, Legolas. What do you think of our capital city?"
"It is beautiful," Legolas said. "It is so foreign and different, so unfamiliar, and yet my heart already longs to be there, and to walk under those eaves."
"Your heart will have to wait just a little while longer," Haldir smiled. "We must turn away from this ridge and go to the right, where we will find a path that is less steep. Then we must go round the city, to the south, for the gates do not look this way. We will enter the city there."
The other Elves now joined them and together, they rode the narrow path leading to the lower grounds, Haldir and Legolas together at the head of the column. They spoke no more as they drew nearer to the city, but Legolas perceived clearly the slight change in Haldir's mood. While travelling hither, the guardian had always been alert, always prepared for a possible attack; here, he was more relaxed. Quicker to smile. More at ease with his surroundings. And somehow, as he guided his horse eagerly towards the city, he seemed to glow faintly in the light of the rising Moon.
As they rode around the hill, they came upon a white-paved road, and Legolas now saw that it followed the curve of a fosse that surrounded the city. Westward they followed this road, with the light-flecked hill on their left, rising high above them. The sky darkened as they rode there, and more lights were lit; both in the city and in the sky. Legolas thought he needed at least a dozen pairs of eyes to take it all in.
At one point, Haldir halted. Legolas followed his example and watched as Haldir turned his moonlit face towards him.
"Look!" he said, pointing up. "Do you see those golden and silver lights dancing high up there?"
Legolas spied at the city towering over him and located the lights Haldir was referring to. "I see them..." he said.
"That is the mightiest mallorn of Caras Galadhon," Haldir explained. "It is where we keep a watch at Dol Guldur, and where our Lord and Lady dwell. Those lights mark that tree; silver, for Celeborn, gold, for Galadriel." He lowered his gaze to look at Legolas. "It is where they will receive you shortly."
At last they came to a white bridge, and crossing it they came to the city gates; tall and strong, and lit by many bright lamps. Haldir dismounted and knocked, spoke some words and few seconds later, the gates opened silently. Haldir led his horse inside, and the others followed. They came to a circular square, where they were met by several grey-clad Elves.
"We dismount here," Haldir told Legolas, "and will proceed on foot."
The horses were taken over by the strange Lórien Elves, who regarded Legolas and his foreign clothing curiously. Haldir and the others then discarded their weapons as well. Legolas, throwing Haldir an inquiring glance, received an encouraging nod.
"We do not appear for the Lord and Lady while armed," Haldir said, "not when it's not necessary. You can give your weapons safely in their keeping; they will be brought to your talan while we're with Celeborn and Galadriel."
Legolas then removed his bow and quiver with automatic movements of his hands. A talan... he would be staying in a talan. Not really that surprising, of course, as he would be staying in the City of Trees, but he'd never given it much thought.
And then they really entered Caras Galadhon. There were no Elves to be seen on the lower paths, but light, fair voices came floating on the wind. The sound blended in with the rustling of leaves and the distant whisper of water falling. The darkness of the night had come between the trees, but lights shimmered everywhere.
Many paths they walked and many stairs they climbed, and so they came to the higher regions of the city. As they proceeded, Haldir occasionally pointed at things, telling Legolas what he was seeing, and Legolas's head spun with all the information and all the new impressions. Still he never had enough.
In the end, they came to a silver-lit lawn with a fountain in the middle. And there on the south side rose the mallorn Haldir had pointed out to Legolas earlier, the tallest of them all. Legolas had to lay his head in his neck to see the first branches, high above him. Further up, his keen elven eyes recognized the golden and silver sparks of light.
Around the broad trunk white stairs spiralled in circles, all the way up. On the lowest step a robe-clad Elf stood, and he greeted them gracefully.
"Welcome," he said with soft, but clear voice. "The Lord and Lady are expecting you. It is their wish that Haldir and Anyriand ascend first, together with your young companion."
Legolas blinked. So they'd heard of his arrival already... Ah yes, he remembered hearing from his teacher long ago, that the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood had their ways of finding out what was happening in their land.
"Very well," Haldir said. "We shall go first." Turning to Legolas, he said, "Come... it's a long climb. But I think you will like it; there's much to see on the way up."
It was true; as they climbed, they passed many talans. Some on the left side, others on the right, and also some greater talans, which were set around the entire trunk of the mallorn. Legolas saw many Elves as he followed Haldir, and once again he understood how different these Elves were from Thranduil's people; more ancient, more mysterious they were. They lived in a forest like the Mirkwood Elves, but while the latter, despite Sindarin influences, were still very Silvan, the Elves Legolas saw as he climbed up obviously carried more Sindarin features. Legolas saw pale-ivory skin; slow, well-balanced movements; straight mithril hair. And their eyes: blue or grey. Seldom it happened in Mirkwood that a child was born with grey eyes; green, amber and the lighter shades of blue were more common there. Anyriand, who was born of Silvan parents, was one of the few Lórien Elves with green eyes.
The Mirkwood Elves were creatures of the earth. Their Lórien kindred belonged to the sky.
Finally, after they'd climbed long and high, they came to the greatest talan yet. A house was built on it, so spacious that it was almost a hall. Upon entering it, Legolas found himself in an oval-shaped room, with the tapering trunk in the middle. The walls were green and silver, the roof golden. When they stepped into the chamber, two Elves rose from their seats and came to greet them.
Legolas had to remind himself not to stare openly at Celeborn and Galadriel. The Lord and Lady of Lórien were both tall, Celeborn only slightly taller than his spouse. While Galadriel's waist-long, wavy hair was deep-golden, Celeborn's was silver, and only their eyes spoke of their long lives, for their fair faces were ageless and incredibly beautiful. They greeted Haldir and Anyriand, who bowed respectfully, and then turned their faces towards Legolas. Remembering his father's lessons in etiquette, he bowed his head in greeting and brought his hand to his chest; for these two Elves, although they weren't royalty, deserved such respect from him - by their age and by their position.
"My Lord and Lady," he said, "an honour it is to meet you..."
Then, something unexpected happened. The beautiful Lady of Lórien crossed the distance between them with one, graceful step, and lightly cupped his face with her slender, feminine hands. Her blue eyes shone warmly towards him, deeply into his own, and to Legolas it felt as if he'd suddenly gone transparent; as if this Lady was reading his soul at a glance.
He'd been expecting many things from this meeting, but not this, and he was slightly taken aback by Galadriel's gesture. Yet he did not break her gaze. She had beautiful eyes, the Lady... he saw silver sparks in them. Or was it just the reflection of the silver lamps...?
Galadriel then smiled at him, a genuine, warm smile. "To know your name," she said, "I need nothing but to look upon your face." Her hands moved away from his face, but her eyes remained on his. "The tales speak truth!" she said with an amused smile. "The Greenleaf of Mirkwood does indeed have the face of his father. But your eyes are your mother's doing, young one," she said kindly. "That alone convinced me that it is indeed the son we are looking upon, not the father become young again."
"The resemblance is remarkable," Celeborn said. He, too, was smiling, and he reached out to take Legolas's hand. He held it firmly as he looked upon the slightly blushing Legolas with a friendly gaze. "It is an honour for us as well, son of Thranduil. Be at peace! We knew of your coming and our Mirkwood kindred is welcome here. It has been too long since someone of your land travelled hither."
"Thank you, my Lord," Legolas said. "My father sends his warmest greetings, and well-wishes for your realm and you personally."
Celeborn nodded gracefully, then turned to Haldir. "Was it an undisturbed journey, Haldir?" he asked the warden.
"Yes, my Lord. But we were less fortunate on the outward voyage."
As Haldir reported to Celeborn the orc-attack in Mirkwood, Legolas noticed that the Lady's eyes were still on him, and he turned to meet them, assuming that she wished to say something to him.
*I see grief in you, young one.*
He started. It was her voice, yet her lips hadn't moved. He gaped at her in wonder, but she merely smiled, and her voice sounded again inside his head.
*Do not fear, fair Legolas. I do not intend to read your memory. But I see sorrow in your eyes, and it's both fresh and old. An old wound bleeding again.*
*I... I...* Legolas thought, confused; not even sure if she could hear him.
*You do not have to explain. Did Thranduil send you here to heal?*
Legolas nodded slowly, not understanding how she could know.
*Then find your healing here, young one. Have no fear; even for the oldest wounds of the soul a cure exists. All you need to do, is to find it. ... But let us not speak more of this now. The day is old, and I would you have rest.*
When her voice sounded again, it was for all to hear:
"Let us meet again tomorrow," she said in her low, soothing voice. "Our delegation has returned home in safety; tomorrow, we'll want to hear your stories. For you, Legolas, a talan has been made ready. You will find all your belongings already there. We hope that it will accomodate you to your satisfaction."
"I am sure it will, my Lady," Legolas said. "I thank you for your kindness."
"Haldir," Galadriel said to the guardian, "would you show him the way?"
"I will, my Lady."
After a last greeting and a bow of his head, Legolas took his leave from the Lórien rulers. As he once again followed Haldir, this time down the stairs, he pondered this meeting. He'd never heard of Galadriel's powers of mind-reading. How very strange that someone could actually read his thoughts...
"Did she speak to you?" Haldir asked him.
"She did... Could you tell?" Legolas asked worriedly.
Haldir gave a soft chuckle. "To be frank, yes. You looked shocked."
"Well, I *was*. Why didn't you tell me before I came before her?" Legolas wanted to know.
Haldir laughed again. "That is our Lady's way... When meeting someone new, she prefers to read him first without him knowing... If I had told you, you would have edged away from her, spiritually. Now she knows you for who you truly are, for you did not know her powers."
Legolas wasn't sure if he liked the idea of being read from the inside. What would Galadriel find there? Uncertainty, doubt, immaturity, fear... not very pretty things.
"Don't be afraid," Haldir said kindly. "She is discreet. She doesn't read what you don't want to reveal. She just wants to know if you're a genuine person. You held her gaze; that was good."
Legolas nodded, still in doubt. But the Lady seemed kind enough; not judgmental and certainly not cruel. So he put the matter to rest as Haldir led him over stairs and paths, until they came to a talan which lay rather private, not very far from the talan of the pair he'd just visited. Haldir stepped onto it and Legolas followed him to the door that gave entrance to the house built upon the talan.
"Here it is," Haldir said, turning. "If the arrangements have been made properly, you will find everything you need in there. If not, do not hesitate to tell me."
Legolas nodded. "Thank you, Haldir. Will I see you tomorrow?"
"Certainly. The Lady expects us. I will come and call for you in the morning, but first, take a good night's rest." He smiled. "Tomorrow, I will also send a messenger to Mirkwood, like I promised your father. He will be glad to hear that you arrived safely."
"He will. Thank you."
Haldir inclined his head gracefully. Still the greeting of an Elf to one higher in position. "Sleep well," Haldir said.
"And you."
Haldir turned and, stepping onto the stairs again, began to ascend.
"Haldir?"
The Elf stopped and turned to him. "Yes?"
"Welcome home," Legolas said.
A slightly surprised smile from the guardian. "Thank you, Legolas."
A brief greeting of his hand, a turn of the stairs, and Haldir was gone behind a grey trunk.
The talan that would be Legolas's home during his stay was medium-sized and commodious. A soft bed with white sheets, a trunk for his clothes and other belongings, a desk, a table, some chairs and a bathroom with a wooden tub. Legolas moved around in his new home, organizing his things, and in the meantime pondering this day. Lórien was beautiful, its Lord and Lady hospitable and friendly... He had to admit, he could feel at home here.
But it wasn't home. It wasn't Mirkwood. And although his talan was exciting and new and comfortingly cozy, he felt a pang of longing when he thought of his own chambers in Mirkwood. Undecisively, he stood in the middle of the room. His eyes then fell on the trunk of the mallorn and followed it upwards until it went through a hole in the roof. Beyond, Legolas could see leaves, and pieces of the night sky between them.
His experienced feet and hands found sufficient support on the trunk, and he swiftly climbed up to the roof and higher. Studying the growth of the mallorn, he chose a branch to sit on, and for a long while, he sat there pondering. He could still hear the murmur of the leaves and of elven voices in the distance. Singing... He listened, but could not understand the words.
So here he was now, in Lórien. While only a few weeks ago, he couldn't have dreamed of seeing the Golden Wood so soon. A part of him was enjoying it; the other part still lingered in Mirkwood. Legolas drew his knees up and draped his arms around his legs, rested his chin on his knees. What would happen tomorrow? And the day after that? Two years suddenly seemed endlessly long to this immortal young prince.
*You will find everything you need in there.* It was what Haldir had said. *If not, do not hesitate to tell me.* Legolas tightened his hold on his own legs and closed his eyes. His heart sang to the stars above but it was not a very happy tune.
Legolas of Mirkwood missed his father.
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