Wild Monster

by Matthew Harrington

  "You will get used to it Legolas," said Elladan with a smirk.

  "I am not sure I want to," replied Legolas somewhat miserably.

  "It is also my wish," added Elrond, "that Mithrandir travel with you, my Prince, so that he may talk with your father. Can you put this to your king?"

  "Of course, my Lord."

  "It would also be wise," he said thoughtfully, "to send my own envoy. It has been too long since I spoke to Thranduil…"

  "Send me, my Lord," said Elladan as he stood. "I would represent Imladris if you would consent?"

  Elrond frowned, his eyes glancing over Elrohir in silent question. Elrohir answered with a soft smile and a nod.

  "If that is your wish, I will consent, Lord Elladan. We will speak extensively on the matter before you leave."

  "Of course my Lord. Thank you," he said, as his eyes slipped to Legolas, who caught them and smiled for the first time that morning.

  "Well, if there is no further business?" asked Elrond.

  Silence met him and so, with brief words of thanks, Elrond brought the council to a close.

  Legolas rose slowly, before approaching Handir.

  "My Prince, I must have a private word," he said, to which Handir nodded, gesturing with his head that they leave, and as they did, Mithrandir shared a questioning glance with Elrond, to which the lord shook his head minutely.

  Commander General Celegon of Greenwood's army, thundered into the stone courtyard before the mountainside entrance to Thranduil's fortress, with the elves that had accompanied Prince Handir to Imladris.

  Unlike their outbound journey, the trip back had been swift and safe and so, as he dismounted he turned to Lieutenant Galadan to issue his commands.

  "See to the troop and then join me. We must report to our king," he said before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Galadan. This report must be considered confidential- tell your warriors to hold their tongues; we do not know what the king knows, what our people know."

  "Of course, my Lord. I will meet with you shortly," he said with a curt salute.

  Celegon nodded at the healers that had congregated before the main gates, holding up his hand, for their services were not needed.

  He was dusty and tired from the long journey, but his report couldn't wait and so he strode into the fortress, through the halls, passing captains and lieutenants that saluted him respectfully, and even some of the more approachable councillors he had a measure of friendship with, but he did not stop, for to stop would be to talk, and that he could not do.

  On he marched, until he reached the private wing where the Royal Family resided. With a nod at the ceremonial guards, he passed them and then stood before the king's study. Steadying his breathing and straightening his crumpled uniform he raised his hand and knocked, praying that Galadan arrive soonest.

  "Come," came the familiar voice. Yet there was something in it that had changed, something Celegon could not quite place.

  "My King," he said, standing to attention and bowing.

  "Commander, welcome back," said Thranduil, turning from the window to face his general.

  Celegon startled, for now there could be no denying it. It was not only the king's voice that had changed. He shone brighter than he had done when Celegon had left, his hair was pristine, his clothes rich and magnificent and the smile - the smile upon Thranduil's face he had not see for centuries. His own mouth turned up at the corners, although he was at a loss as to what had brought this change about.

  "I know what you would say, Celegon. Much has happened since you have been away, I will brief you as best I can of course but first, what news do you bring from Imladris?" he asked, his head cocking minutely to one side.

  "I bring - extraordinary news, my Lord, yet I am uncertain as to what, exactly, you are referring to?" he asked, and then felt utterly stupid for he was Commander of the Greenwood militia, he was to report of course, but what did the king know? and more importantly, what did he not?

  Thranduil, however, surprised him then with a mischievous smile.

  "I ask first and foremost after my sons," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  "Prince Handir is well my King. We wrote to you regarding the battle of course," he said, hoping against hope that the king would not ask further questions about it before he had had time to ascertain whether or not he knew… damn Galadan, he cursed to himself.

  "I asked, Celegon, after my sons, for as you must know, I have two sons in Imladris…" he said, and there was that smile again. The king was toying with him and of a sudden he blew out a mighty breath, only to have Thranduil chuckle in his face.

  "Forgive me, my King, I did not know what you knew…"

  "I understand, Commander, and I have been unfair, I should have briefed you no sooner you arrived.

  "Well now that is over with, perhaps I can give you my report?" said the commander, a little exasperated, before adding, "although perhaps it would be wise to wait for Lieutenant Galadan. He is seeing to the troop but will be here shortly."

  Thranduil nodded, before gesturing to a comfortable chair. "Wine, Celegon? You must be tired, and your presence here, before you have rested, is telling of the news you bring," prompted the king as he poured the wine and handed one goblet to the Commander with an expectant glance.

  But before Celegon could begin his account, the door opened, revealing not only Galadan, but Rinion and Aradan. Bowing, the three newcomers entered and stood around the king and Celegon. News travelled fast, as Celegon was well aware, and if the king knew of his third son, then it was likely the whole kingdom did too.

  "My king, my written report to you no sooner we arrived in the Valley, was succinct; there are many details that I could not include, and others that have come to light after I sent it. I must now inform you of the - extraordinary - events that took place there. However, if I may, I must enquire as to the situation regarding Legolas. Do our people know of him?" asked Celegon carefully.

  "They know of him, Celegon. Indeed we are currently immersed in talks and this is one of our primary debates, but please continue," he prompted, sipping on his wine as his keen grey eyes settled upon his Sindarin commander.

  "On our final three days of journey to the valley, an unfortunate incident occurred, involving a trainee lieutenant by the name of Silor, and Legolas, a newly-trained Silvan warrior, or so I thought at the time.

  Silor had all but dragged the warrior to my presence, claiming that he had disobeyed an order, and then thrown him to the ground. Naturally, I was immediately concerned; I will tolerate no insubordination, as well you know my king," he said, watching as the king nodded but remained silent. Rinion, however, was shaking his head in disapproval, and Celegon barely resisted the urge to reprimand the Prince for his premature judgement.

  "However, the other Silvan warriors stepped forward to defend him, claiming that it was Silor who had moved to strike the Silvan warrior and that he had simply walked into another warrior who had blocked his passage. I must add, my King," he said with an upturned palm, "that said warrior is, indeed, particularly well built, shall we say. Legolas interrupted the discussion, claiming that an attack was imminent, something we already knew and were preparing for, but he insisted there would be two enemy groups. Unfortunately, by that time it was too late and the first wave of orcs hit us from the West.

  Lieutenant Lainion departed with all haste with Prince Handir, making for Imladris while the rest of us did our best to form up and repel the attack. It was then we realised that Legolas had been right. The young Silvan warriors were attacked from the South, while Legolas fought with us on the western flank. We lost three and there were many wounded, indeed I myself was incapacitated and it was Lieutenant Galadan here, who took charge from there on in."

  "You were taken by surprise," said Thranduil flatly.

  "Yes, albeit it was Silor's distraction that sealed our fate. Yet the question remained, how did Legolas know what he knew…?" he asked, his sparkling blue eyes searching Thranduil's fo
r an answer that was not forthcoming, and so he continued.

  "Lieutenant Galadan and I spoke that very night, we spoke of our suspicions, for you see, my Lord, his appearance is nothing short of - striking - he is the very portrait of Oropher himself, except for his eyes, a green so vivid they seem almost unreal. And if this was not enough to draw conclusions, then to see him fight was the only confirmation we needed."

  "What do you mean?" asked Rinion.

  "I mean, my Prince, that I have never seen an elf wield short swords they way he does. It is fascinating to the point of distraction, my lords."

  This, from Celegon, was a mighty thing. He was old, experienced, had fought at Dagorlad, had seen the best warriors over two ages.

  "Go on," said Thranduil quietly, under the intense stare of Aradan.

  "The weather was foul and a frigid air fell upon our ruined camp, and then snow came and covered everything. Galadan, perhaps you should continue from here?"

  "Of course, Commander. Between myself, Legolas and Galdithion, another Silvan warrior, we gathered the wounded and did what we could to make them comfortable, but we had to move and so Legolas fashioned what I can only describe as 'contraptions', harnesses that sat between horses, mobile stretchers if you will. We toiled for many hours to put them together and fit them to the horses we still had. And even then there was no rest, for we had to hunt, cook and gather wood. Tend to the wounded, as our healer was killed in the first attack."

  "It sounds harsh," said Aradan thoughtfully.

  "It gets worse, my Lord," continued Galadan. "The three of us began the two day ride to Imladris. It was painfully slow for with only four horses and eight wounded, and the freezing cold, the exhaustion from battle. We were sitting targets for the enemy.

  At night we organised ourselves once more and set up camp. Hunt, collect water, tend to the wounded, guard the camp. Tiredness was taking its toll and the frost numbed our feet and hands. The next day was nothing short of torture," said Galadan, pausing for a moment as he remembered those torturous hours. At one point, Legolas turned to me, claiming we were being followed, stalked by wargs, it seemed, stray orcs he said. Again how he knew I did not dare guess, but I would not doubt his words, not after the attacks, not after the detail he had been able to provide us with.

  It was that evening that our company split…"

  "What, what happened?" asked Aradan, completely immersed now in Galadan's tale.

  "Legolas turned to me and told me what I already knew. If the wargs came across us, we would all be lost. Three warriors almost dead upon their feet cannot protect eight wounded. He said he could fall back and protect us from the rear, buy us time to get the wounded to Imladris.

  "Suicide," said Rinion.

  "It was the only way, my Prince. We all knew that and it was then, as I looked at him, the determination on his face - I knew," he whispered, his eyes turning to the king who stared back at him. 'Be safe, my Prince,' I said… He stared back at me for a moment and there was fear in his eyes, before it was lost and he rode away.

  That night, Galdithion and I sat awake and in silence, for the howls of the wargs kept us as alert as we could be, and the forest, the forest whispered of magic and all things arcane - it was a moment I will never forget, my King."

  Aradan blew out a noisy breath, "Elbereth Celegon."

  "Naturally," continued Celegon, we arrived safely and Lord Elrond was most welcoming. Of course, Legolas was still out there and after the first twenty-four hours without his return, we began to worry."

  The king's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, and Rinion had turned to the window.

  "It was Lord Elladan who eventually found him. The strange thing is, that he would not speak of it, my King. He said only that the tree had hidden him so well he had almost missed him."

  Silence ensued, until eventually, Thranduil spoke for the first time since Celegon had started his report.

  "Was he alright?" he asked softly.

  "He had battled with the wargs and had been wounded. Add to that the exhaustion he was already suffering. He slept straight for an entire day before he woke, a little battered but mostly well," finished Celegon.

  "Then I should be proud of him," said the king thoughtfully, and then startled as Galadan stepped forward, his body straight and his chin high.

  "My King. It was an honour to serve with your son," he said boldly. The entire troop feel the same, the Silvans and the Sindar. He is brave beyond words and yet humble," he emphasised with a sideways glance at Rinion. "He is skilled beyond his years and he holds the favour of the trees," he added with a glance at Celegon now, for there was a detail they had yet to tell the king.

  The king did frown then, deep and questioning as he turned to the commander.

  "What have you not told us, Celegon?" he asked.

  Celegon watched the king and then Aradan and Rinion who turned now from the window to look at him.

  "He is a listener?" asked Rinion incredulously.

  "No, my Prince. He is much more than a listener. He has magic, green magic…"

  "It is a beautiful day," said Handir as he turned his face to the sun and smiled softly. Legolas felt his own lips twitch at his brother's joy, but the task at hand came back to him and the smile was gone.

  "My Prince…" began Legolas, but was met with the palm of his brother's hand. "Handir, just Handir here, or would you rather I call you Lord?" he asked mischievously for he had not missed his brother's misery when Elrond had proclaimed it so.

  "No, no," said Legolas a little to quickly, earning for himself a chuckle from Handir.

  "You know," said the prince, "I have been asked to 'instruct' you on lordly protocol - father is a stickler for pomp and ceremony, Legolas," and then he chuckled again as his young brother's face crumpled even further.

  "Worry not. I must simply take you to the tailors, to the jewel smith and instruct you on the proper use of titles - no more," he said with an evil grin which finally had Legolas smiling.

  "Truly brother it is not that bad. Take it for what it is, a title and no more."

  "I never wanted privilege, Handir. I always wanted to excel on the strength of my own skill."

  "And you will - you already are - no one can deny that. Do not let the details get in the way of what is important to you, they are not an end in themselves. But come, tell me, what is it you wished to speak to me about?" he asked curiously.

  "During my absence, while I was in the forest, Handir, I came to understand what it is I must do…"

  Handir's face was drawn into a deep frown, his frustration clear. "Legolas, this - this magic - this, strange aura that enfolds you, I confess it unnerves me."

  "I know, Handir, the Valar know it unnerves me too, but at least now I begin to understand; it is why I must speak with you now, in confidence, for my words are not for everyone to hear. You are a necessary collaborator, if you will. Our - destinies - are somehow intertwined, Handir. You yourself have admitted to wanting to restore The Greenwood to what it once was, a land of peace and justice where no one is above the next elf, where Sindar, Silvan and Avarin elves live in harmony. This is what drives you to study, to read, to seek Lord Erestor's guidance - tell me I have not misunderstood your motives?" he asked.

  Handir watched his brother for a moment, before he answered, his voice strong and determined. "You are not wrong Legolas. That is exactly my calling, one I will not be swayed from. But now you have me thoroughly puzzled…"

  "Bear with me, brother. This is not easy for me to put into words, and every time I try it seems so strange that I should be saying such things. You remember Mithrandir's words at the council?" he prompted, watching Handir's face. "He told you his authority came from a higher source…"

  "Yes…" said Handir, his head cocking to one side.

  "Mithrandir is charged by the Valar themselves, by Manwë…"

  "Yes…" said Handir, more softly this time and his face paled a little.

  "So too, am I charged, by a higher
authority, Handir, with a task, a purpose that wholly fits with your own…"

  Handir turned to his brother, his eyes wide. "You have been charged … by who?" he whispered, his breathing coming shorter now.

  Legolas watched him, aware of the impact of his next words, aware he may not be believed, that he would be seen as arrogant, or even naive.

  "By Yavanna…"

  After a long silence, Handir managed to articulate a word. "What?"

  " She charged me, Handir, with the protection of the forests and those that dwell within."

  Handir gasped and then turned from his brother, as if he could not stand to look upon him and Legolas faltered for a moment, his hand reaching out to catch his brother's sleeve.

  But just then, Handir turned back to him, his princely mask gone and in its place, was the expression of an elf that believes but does not understand.

  "The Valar - have charged you with this? Kementari chose you, for this purpose?" he asked softly, his eyes searching his brother desperately for any sign that he had, perhaps, misunderstood.

  "Yes," was all Legolas said, as if he himself could still not believe it.

  Handir exhaled noisily, steadying his breathing and then sitting somewhat unceremoniously upon a stone bench.

  "This is - hard - to assimilate, Legolas. No wonder it cost you to tell me."

  "I understand - if you do not believe me, Handir, I really do."

  "No, it is not that. It is clear something happened in those woods that went beyond the norm, Legolas. Everyone can see that. Your hair, your light, even the way you express yourself. But to have it said so plainly it seems …"

  "Absurd, yes - I know," anticipated the Silvan. "And yet you see now, how this ties in with your own path, Handir? I have a plan, a way I believe I can do this, but I must seek the permission of the king and herein lies my request."

  "Speak it," said Handir.

  "I must gain a measure of freedom, without detaching myself entirely from the Greenwood Militia. I must create a special unit, a group of ten warriors that will secure the forests and the villages, defend it over all else. We would be under the command of the king himself, but with the liberty to ride should the forest call us."