Post by Admin on Jan 3, 2021 21:43:26 GMT
Author: Wynja2007
Ranking: Tied for 3rd place
Summary: When Elrond visits the Greenwood, not everything goes according to plan...
Being a mash-up of English Robin Hood myth and legend... No reference to any television or movie versions other than the 1955 – 1959 TV series ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’.
Rated K+/Teen for innuendo and cosplaying.
Not so much a Modern AU, as a mediaeval one...
‘Govon Hood, Govon Hood,
Riding through the glen.
Govon Hood, Govon Hood,
With his merry elves
They take from the Rich
in order to redistribute the coinage to the poor, obviously...
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, Govon Hood...’
Lindir a-Dale finished the refrain with a flourish. The eponymous hero – or anti-hero – shook his head, but smiled at the same time.
‘It needs a little work, I think,’ he said.
‘You could be right, Govon,’ Lindir said, setting aside his lute. ‘Of course, if we were men, and not elves, it would be much easier...’
‘Wash your mouth out!’ Canadion the Millar’s Son said sharply. ‘Men, indeed!’
‘What about... ‘... they take from the bad... and give to the good... Govon Hood, Govon Hood, Govon Hood...’
‘Ai, everyone is a critic! Glorfindel Scarlett, I will thank you to keep your suggestions to yourself!’ Lindir a-Dale said with a roll of his eyes.
‘Only trying to help,’ Glorfindel protested with a one-shouldered shrug.
‘...Govon Hood, Govon Hood,
Rides through woods and dells
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, with his merry elves...
They rob from the rich
And give to the poor...
It’s what they’re for, what they’re for, what they’re for...’ Lindir a-Dale tried.
‘Better,’ Govon Hood agreed. ‘If you’d consider Glorfindel’s ‘bad’ and ‘good’ idea, it’s pretty much there, I think.’
Lindir’s lips moved swiftly as he ran through the lyrics. Loathe to admit Glorfindel had a point, still his musicianship demanded that he see how well it worked.
‘Yes, I might do that,’ he agreed. ‘ Of course, I could have rhymed ‘glen’ with ‘Eryn Lasgalen, which avoids the half-rhyme of ‘dell’ with ‘elves’, but...’
But nobody was interested.
Govon clapped him on the shoulder.
‘Good job,’ he said. ‘So. We have our official song, we have... lots of supporters, but only a few key operatives involved in all our plans. We have... how much in the coffers?’
‘Lots of shiny round things,’ Canadion said. ‘We are elves, what do we need with this money stuff?’
‘Well, since Elrond declared himself Lord of the Greenwood when Thranduil Lionheart and Arveldir a Bland went crusading for Silvan’s equal rights with the Galadhrim, it’s the only chance we have of ransoming our prince.’ Govon shook his head. ‘And the people Elrond’s locked up for non-payment of taxes... whatever they are... Had I known he would throw our prince into the cells and take over...’
‘Had we known, we’d never have come along with him,’ Glorfindel said, nudging Govon with his shoulder. ‘Me, and Lindir, and Erestor, we thought Thranduil Lionheart had asked him to keep an eye on things... as soon as we realised...’
‘Well, to be fair, he did,’ Govon sighed. ‘But I am sure, had Thranduil known Elrond would throw our prince into prison and taken over everything, he would simply have written a strongly-worded letter to Galadriel instead, and stayed home. As it is, your help has been invaluable.’
‘I can’t get through to the lads, though,’ Glorfindel said. ‘He’s their Adar, he’s having a mid-life crisis, that’s why he’s gone all Prince-John-robber-baron on us... that’s what they say. They don’t like it, but they can’t leave him by himself. Arwen wants to mutiny, but what can she do? The only thing like a weapon she’s allowed is a Size 5 crochet hook...’
‘Erestor will be back soon, hopefully with news. I know it galls you to stay here with us while he is our spy but, really, Glorfindel, however we tried to disguise you, you are bound to be discovered. You are so...’ Govon sought for words. ‘Blatant’ came to mind, but could have caused offence. ‘So distinctive,’ he settled on finally. ‘And your naturally heroic nature would probably lead you to dramatic actions for which we are not yet ready...’
*
Up at the castle, Legolas was enduring his Durance Vile with good heart; Arwen had come to visit, bringing her crochet hook and wool, and a cushion so that she could sit in the corridor outside Legolas’ cell and chat to him without freezing.
‘I do not know what has got into Ada,’ she said. ‘One minute he was fine, hosting feasts and presiding over the singing, and then all of a sudden, no sooner had Dain’s representatives left than up we all had to get, pack our bags, and away across the mountains! I almost wish Dain hadn’t paid Ada the damages promised; he was all right until then...’
‘Wait...’ Legolas said. ‘What was that? Damages?’
‘From when Thorin and company stayed. Oh, there was a terrible time, ask poor Lindir; we found him crying in a broom cupboard afterwards... ‘Have they gone yet?’ was all he would say...’
‘Well, I can understand that! You should have seen the mess they made of Adar’s dungeons!’
‘Oh, it was dreadful in Rivendell! They liberated all the silverware and Elrond had to have the main fountain disinfected...’ Arwen shook her head sadly. ‘Not to mention the kitchens ran out of almost everything... and the breakages... so although my father said he didn’t want any recompense, Dain insisted...’
‘They offered my father recompense, too; from the dragon hoard. Adar told Dain where he could store each and every coin of it...’
Arwen giggled.
‘But why? You know how dwarves value gold; that they were willing to donate...’
‘Dragon gold? Gold with the curse of a dragon upon it, the dark dreams of avarice and greed? Frankly, my father the king was not impressed. Dain tried to insist but Father gave him that Look; you know, the one he keeps for special annoyance, and then said if Dain was serious, he would repatriate all the starlight gemstones he and his people acquired by apparent accident instead. Or else. The stones are pure, they don’t take the dragon curse the same way the money does.’
‘Legolas...’ Arwen began slowly. ‘Do you think... perhaps... the gold Dain brought Ada...’
‘Could have been tainted and cursed?’ Legolas shrugged. ‘Possibly. Of course, for all I know this is perfectly normal behaviour for your father...’
‘Indeed!’ Arwen bristled. ‘My father is good, and kind, and wise and just. He would not dream of...’
‘Of usurping the throne of Mirkwood and throwing its prince regent in jail?’ Legolas asked. ‘Of taxing the people of the region until they can’t afford bread and hiring the worst of ruffians to take by force the little they have left?’
‘Well, I like that!’ Arwen protested. ‘My Aragorn had to take that job as Sherriff... otherwise who knows what might have happened?’
‘Let me guess... people taxed harshly, outlaws – our friends – threatened...’
‘He’s only doing it so he can keep Adar under his eye!’
‘And this silly archery contest at the weekend?’
‘You’re only calling it silly because you can’t be there to compete! No, what’s silly is all this Maid Marian Queen of the May business... we don’t have anything like it at home!’
‘But you’re still entering.’
‘Of course. And if I know your friends, they’ll be entering too.’
‘The Maid Marian thing?’
‘No, silly – the archery... although there’s an idea... When Erestor gets here – I’ve taken to calling him Friar Tuck, because he has to tuck things up his habit to make himself look plump and unlike himself so Adar won’t recognise him... I have a plan, we can all work on it then... Well, I had better go, I am getting quite chilled... I will be back later, Legolas! Hold the faith!’
Hold the faith? In whom? A crocheting scatterbrain and a handful of elves hiding in disguise? Legolas sighed. It really was not looking good.
*
A whistle came soaring down through the trees and presently two figures arrived, flitting through the shadows.
‘Little Thiriston, Friar Erestor! What news?’
‘I am getting heartily fed up of stuffing these robes to make myself look properly friarly!’ Erestor complained. ‘Govon, there is, indeed, news. Elrond John has announced that no ransom will be sufficient to release our prince from Durance Vile... only if Legolas renounces his claim to the throne will he be set free...’
‘Then what is the point of us having robbed that coachload of travellers last Tuesday?’ Govon threw up his hands in despair. ‘The older lady was most put out, and now what are we going to do with all this money?’
‘Redistribute it amongst the poor, I suppose,’ Glorfindel said. ‘We could start with the poor innkeeper... then the poor lady at the knocking shop with all the nice daughters...’
‘What is a knocking shop?’ Canadion the Miller’s Son asked. ‘Is it somewhere to buy kn...?’
‘It’s the sort of place you need to keep away from,’ Little Thiriston said sternly.
‘Moving on,’ Erestor said firmly. ‘The Sheriff of Dúnedain, Elrond John’s foster-son Aragorn, has ordered an archery contest this Saturday as part of the May Festival. I believe he’s told Elrond he’s hoping to draw out some of these...ahem... wretched outlaws... into the open.’
‘Ah, and it would never do to disappoint him, would it?’
‘It is said that Elrond John will be present, and Arwen, also. There will be a contest for the Queen of the May, who locally is known as the Maid Marian.’
‘Really?’ Glorfindel said. ‘That’s confusing!’
‘I know, but it’s tradition amongst the humans,’ Govon said. ‘All the maids dress up in their finest blue robes and don long blonde wigs - they are known as the Maids Marian – and the one most representative of all the maidenly virtues is crowned Queen of the May. This gives her licence to romp in the forest, if she chooses and, presumably, behave in a less maidenly way. And if there’s one thing we don’t need, it’s romping maidens invading our forest when we’re trying to be outlaws!’ he added with a sigh. ‘Well, we’ll need to make a plan...’
‘Indeed, and I have already been working on one,’ Erestor said, trying not to sound smug. ‘When I went to see the prince, Arwen found her way to us also. It seems that this archery contest is a ruse by the Sherriff of Dúnedain to help get us near Elrond in relative safety. And Arwen has a plan by which we may be able to free the prince... furthermore, it may be not entirely Elrond’s fault that he has acted in so despicable a manner; he has lately, Arwen reminded me, accepted damages from Dain...’
‘And it was not nearly enough, it could never be enough!’ Lindir a-Dale blurted with a shudder. ‘The things they did... the horrors I have seen...’
‘There, there... it is all over now and the nasty dwarveses are all gone away...’ Erestor said, reaching out to pat Lindir’s shoulder. ‘Yes. Quite. Damages which were paid in, we now think, tainted dragon gold.’
‘Oh.’
‘Ah.’
‘Dain tried that on Thranduil,’ Govon said. ‘Our king didn’t accept. So Elrond has been tainted by dragon gold, who would have thought it?’
‘More to the point, what can we do about it?’ Glorfindel said. ‘At least we know it’s not his fault; the lads will be pleased! Were you able to see them, Erestor?’
Friar Erestor shook his head as he shed some of his padding.
‘No, unfortunately not; they were riding out with Aragorn, apparently. But they have promised to help on Saturday... This is what we have agreed so far...’
*
Keeping out of her father’s sight as much as she properly could, Arwen assembled a few vital things together and collected from her yarn store all of the yellow and gold shades she possessed for use in the hair of her Maid Marian costume. Consulting with Friar Erestor Tuck, she listened and assisted eagerly with the plan.
‘We will need more wigs,’ Erestor said,’ for we will all need disguises and if some are Maids Marian – ahem Males Marian – then it will be more confusing and easier to evade pursuit.’
‘Arwen, are you sure we can depend on your brothers?’ Legolas asked.
‘Oh, yes – now they know it is not Adar’s fault, but the tainted gold, they are with us all the way. And I have a lovely straw colour that is a perfect match...’
‘Of all the parts of this mad plan, this is what I dislike the most!’ Legolas said. ‘But if it will get me out of here, I am prepared to do almost anything.’
*
By the predawn light on the day of the archery and Queen of the May contest, all was as ready as it could be in the Greenwood. Lindir gave them a rousing chorus of ‘Govon Hood’ and then slipped into his disguise, leaving his hair unbraided and wearing soft, light robes that made him look more like an escort-duty elf than a minstrel.
‘If anyone asks, I am Aeglos a-Dale,’ he said.
‘Well, try not to let anyone ask!’ Govon Hood said. ‘Now, come along, everyone. You all know what to do? Well, make sure you do it properly, and at the right moment!’
They slid through the forest, shade in the shadows, shadows in the green shade, and split up, Erestor to go to the castle and the others to the village green where the festivities were to take place. A raised platform with a sheltered area and seating had already been arranged for the guests of honour, and striped pavilions gave a bright and cheerful air around the edge of the green.
A panel at the back of one of these tents opened and Galion Stutly beckoned to them.
‘In here, mellyn-nin!’ he hissed. ‘I have brought all down from the palace as ordered. I will be serving wine to Elrond John later, against my wishes, but I will be here for a time.’
‘Thank you, Galion; our prince will thank you, too, I am sure. Very well, get yourselves changed. There is peasant garb for those taking part in the archery. The rest, into the costumes for your contest also...’
Glorfindel Scarlett lifted the garments assigned to him and looked an appeal at Govon.
‘You know, I’m not a bad shot... I am certain I would be better in peasant garb than this...?’
‘In fact, what matters more is that the disguises work. Little Thiriston looks better as a peasant; you we need, with Canadion, dressed for the other contest... and you haven’t stopped grumbling since you got here that blue was your colour, not green...’
‘But why do I have to wear the wig? I have perfect blond hair already...’
‘Because it needs to look like a wig! Come, you will be a wonderful Maid Marian.’
‘I don’t have a hope of winning, though!’ Glorfindel protested.
‘You are not entering to win, you are entering to cause confusion later and, you can hide swords under your garments. Now, come along!’
Soon all were ready, Govon and Thiriston dressed as peasants with their bows over their backs, Glorfindel and Canadion changed into blue gowns and blonde wigs.
‘Excellent,’ Govon said. ‘Archers and Maids Marian...’
‘Males Marian, you mean!’ Glorfindel said, pouting theatrically. ‘That’s what Erestor Tuck calls us!’
‘Ha, indeed! Males Marian... we will stay here until the crowds thicken, and then we will move amongst them. Canadion, do not forget that Arwen has made your wig from the same shade of wool as she has our prince’s, so if his escape is realised, and they recognise him in his costume, there is a chance that from a distance they will mistake the two of you. In such case, it is your job to draw them off. Good luck, everyone.’
*
‘Psst! Psst, Legolas!’
The prince stirred, sitting up from his pallet in the corner. He blinked.
Arwen was outside, waving the keys to his cell at him. Over the top of her elegant gown she wore a plain blue dress which only needed lacing to hide her finery beneath. Over her lovely dark hair she wore a blonde wig made from crocheted yellow wool. Behind her was Friar Erestor Tuck, hands folded over the cushion stuffed into his habit making him look pregnant, rather than portly, and Elrohir, the younger of Elrond John’s twin sons. Over his arms was folded what looked like a bright blue robe, but which could have been a dress, and Legolas began to have serious misgivings.
‘There is not much time,’ Erestor said. ‘Your highness, you must change into this... raiment, although it is hardly flattering. Elrohir will need your clothes.’
‘I am beginning to think this is a terrible idea!’ Legolas protested.
‘In fact, it is the only idea; if it works...’
‘It will be little short of a miracle!’ Legolas grumbled, but changed into the dress and passed over his clothes to Elladan. ‘Could I not at least keep my breeches?’
‘Would you wear mine instead?’ Elladan queried. ‘We are dressed too unalike to get away with this...’
Finally they were changed, clothes swapped, Legolas wearing not-quite-fitting leggings under his disguise and hiding his hair under a long wig in a far dirtier blond than his own shade while Elladan’s wig matched Legolas’ hair perfectly.
‘So, all you need to do, Elrohir, is pretend to be asleep. Nobody will look twice at you,’ Arwen said, fastening up her robes. ‘Come, Legolas... I suppose we should find you a name... would Thranduiliel be too obvious?’
‘I am dressed as Maid Marian, just call me that!’ he said. ‘Come on, if we must do this, let’s get it over with!’
The castle being busy with the bustle of planning for Elrond John’s trip down to the village for the celebrations, and with half the servant girls dressed up as Marians, there was so much running around going on that nobody paid any heed to two more blue-dressed, blond-wigged figures in company of an oddly-shaped friar, and they were soon out through the kitchen gardens and away down the path to the village. Part way there, they were met by two more Maids – Males – Marian as Canadion the Millar’s Son and Glorfindel Scarlett joined them.
‘My price, it is so good to see you!’ Canadion enthused. ‘For all that we knew you were alive, and had friends in the castle, still, we have been worried!’
‘And you, Canadion, and our friends? Are they all safe, too?’
‘Pretty much, although today is a big risk...’
‘True. Although I do not doubt Elladan and Elrohir are with us, I have not spoken to Aragorn...’
‘He’s on our side,’ Arwen said firmly. ‘And he knows exactly what will happen – or what won’t happen – if he lets me down...’
*
The reunion of the prince with his loyal friends was heartfelt, exuberant, and threatened to topple the little pavilion in which they hid as all attempted to hug him at once.
‘Put me down, stand off!’ he said, laughing. ‘Just because I am in a dress, as are some of you, it does not mean you should greet me like your sister! Yes, yes, I am fine... now come, tell me of you? What has been happening these last weeks while I’ve been locked up?’
Hastily, Govon explained how, once Elrond had inserted himself into Legolas’ place, he had taken his key warriors out of the castle under cover of dark to run a guerrilla campaign in the woods.
‘We knew your father our king to be weeks away, and he having taken most of the warriors with him to Lothlórien, we had no hope of arms just yet. All we could hope to do was fight a rear-guard action, turn the villagers against him – although, that was not difficult!’ Govon said. ‘And our hope was to somehow free you. Now, my prince, you are free! We have a stronghold in the Greenwood where you will be safe and now Elrond John has nothing to hold over us...’
‘He’s not himself,’ Legolas said. ‘As Arwen here will tell you, he’s under the enchantment of tainted gold.’
‘We realise this. But until we can see some of this tainted gold for ourselves, we will not know if the curse will be lifted; it is said that the prize money for the archery contest will be paid from this hoard, so one of us must win it.’
‘So why am I dressed as a Maid Marian and not as an archer?’
‘Because I am every bit as good a shot as you, my prince! And it is too risky. If you are recaptured... well, I doubt we could release you again. Your father is still weeks away, even if he can return with full force, Elrond is entrenched and many of our people are still in there. Storming the castle would only result in tragedy... which is why we have a plan...’
‘Ah, yes. The plan...’
*
Elrond was not having a good day.
It was fair to say it had been a while since he had, actually, had a day which had felt in any way good.
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with long fingers, sighing as he sat back in his carriage.
The truth was, he hadn’t been feeling himself lately. He had headaches, his vision was fuzzed, and everywhere he saw gold, and silver, and felt the cold, hard need for wealth clutching at his heart. A part of him didn’t understand this, but the other part, the human part took him from his rooms at night to sit in the strongroom and run his hands through the treasure Dain had brought him and which he had had felt compelled to bring with him on this quest.
Now, sitting in his carriage as it bumped down the hill towards the village, the elven part of him was aghast at the sheer pleasure he had felt as those cool coins had spilled through his tumbling fingers, the susurration of the slithering silver like the song of the sea, waking a longing in his human soul almost as strong as the sea longing his kindred were prey to. But the joy of gold, the smell of it, the touch...
It was wrong! Elrond gave himself a shake. Oh, not the coming over the mountains to take charge while Thranduil was away... and then, these Silvans, so wild, they needed a bit of culture... it was his duty to Elvenkind to step in. Thranduil would quite agree, he was sure. And Legolas... well, once it was all settled, the troublesome prince would know he had overstepped his bounds when he tried to rule in Thranduil’s place; that was for the older, wiser generation...
But he was tired, it felt as if there was a voice in his mind all the time, whispering about gold, and his eyesight was blurred, clouded with visions of coins and power and it was all he could do to drag himself to the carriage this morning to head off down to the village for this futile spectacle.
Outside his carriage rode the Sherriff of Dúnedain, a good enough chap, but with designs on Arwen, Elrond was sure of it. Well, he wanted better for her, but Aragorn didn’t know that, yet, and so everything Elrond asked of him he tried to do. Idly he wondered how long before the Sherriff would get bored and ride off to find another lady to pursue...
‘My lord? My lord, we are here,’ a voice said.
Coming back to himself with an effort, Elrond saw the open door of the carriage and managed to stagger out of it. Hands reached to support him; he waved them off impatiently and allowed Aragorn to escort him to his seat.
‘Where’s Arwen?’ he demanded. ‘And my sons?’
‘Arwen has decided to enter the Queen of the May contest, my lord,’ Aragorn said, deftly sliding a hand under Elrond’s elbow and helping him to his place. ‘She has dressed as one of the Maids Marian... I am sure she will be here soon. Your sons are on guard at the castle, as you requested.’
Elrond sat, and drank, and watched displays of fighting although he could not make out clearly who was involved. Arwen came and sat beside him, and he nodded to her, blinking as he wondered what was different about her.
‘You dyed your hair?’
‘In fact,’ Aragorn said from Elrond’s other side, scowling at Glorfindel in his Male Marian outfit who was batting his eyelashes at Elrond, ‘your... daughter is wearing the wig traditionally part of the Maid Marian costume. Arwen, you wanted me to show you the sights? Come, let us take a walk before the archery contest begins...’
Out of earshot, Glorfindel scowled at Aragorn.
‘You can let go now!’
‘That was foolish, and risky! What if he had recognised you?’
‘I was hoping he would! What’s happened to the Elrond we knew and respected?’
‘He complains of headaches and that he cannot see clearly. It’s the dragon gold, I am sure of it... now, where is Arwen? Her father will be asking for her soon, he wants to watch the archery with her at his side to give out the prize money.’
*
The archery contest was as exciting as they ever are; Govon Hood, dressed in a motley assortment of peasant garb won easily, splitting his own arrow to show just how good his shooting had become. He went up to receive his prize, bowing to Arwen as she handed over a purse to him.
‘Be careful,’ she whispered. ‘It is from the gold Dain brought.’
He glanced up at the staging where Elrond was staring at him, peering as if trying to make out his face, but as he bowed again, the usurper waved dismissal and he escaped back to the shelter of the pavilion.
‘We need to find out how to cleanse this gold,’ he said, holding the purse as if it in itself was tainted. ‘Radagast of Doncaster has renown as a wizard. But who to send...? The Males Marian need to stay... Erestor, Lindir, you will not know where to find him... Thiriston...’
The big elf held Govon’s gaze.
‘You think I want to go trotting off to some mad wizard and leave my friends dressed as females? What happens when the drinking starts?’
Govon sighed. ‘I think that means I will have to go.’
‘It won’t hurt for you to be out of the way,’ Glorfindel said. ‘If that really is tainted gold, then Elrond is going to repent giving it away. He might come looking for it.’
‘That’s true. Right. Thiriston, you’re in charge while I’m away. Where is there a horse I can steal?’
*
The line-up for the Queen of the May was spectacularly disappointing this year, all the villagers agreed. With the exception of Arwen from the castle, and a couple of her friends (both of whose wigs were an off-putting shade of dirty blonde), nobody, not even the prettiest of the village girls, came close.
But Aragorn, the Sherriff of Dúnedain walked up and down the row as if it was a nigh on impossible task. Finally, he pulled forward Arwen and Legolas.
‘I cannot decide between these two,’ he announced loudly. ‘And so I give the crown to both!’ As he spoke, he broke the woven floral garland used for crowning the May Queen in two, and set half on Arwen’s head, the other on Legolas’ to make to coronets, feeding the ends through the loops of crochet work to secure them. ‘And now, I believe you two have some romping to do?’
‘Properly, all the Maids Marian spend time about the festivities, and only the May Queen runs off into the forest,’ Legolas said. ‘But... it sounds as if we’ve got what we came for, so why not?’
‘Look after Arwen,’ Aragorn said. ‘Properly. With respect. One day, I will make her mine, so just remember who has been helping you...’
‘Yes, very grateful. Canadion, with me. Arwen, Glorfindel? You two as well; I’ve had an idea to refine the original plan...’
In the privacy of the purloined pavilion, Legolas removed his wig.
‘You can’t do that!’ Arwen exclaimed. ‘You’re meant to be Queen of the May...’
‘Canadion, give me your wig... you take mine... swap dresses... there! And now you are co-Queen of the May, because you have the same coronet, and the same gown... and, Glorfindel, did not you sit next to Elrond earlier and he thought you were his daughter?’
‘Well, he did, but... Oh, no. No, no no...’
‘Oh, YES!’ Arwen exclaimed, pulling off her wig and reaching for Glorfindel’s in turn. ‘And the dress is infinitely adjustable, thanks to the lacings, so you have no excuse... Come along! I am waiting!’
Lindir – Aiglos a-Dale slipped into the tent. ‘The others are waiting in the eaves of the forest... Ai, what is this? What have you done?’
The three Males Marian exchanged glances.
‘Glorfindel is pretending to be Arwen and Canadion is pretending to be me. Thus Arwen and I should be able to get away more easily.’
‘I see. Well, come with me now. Govon has gone off to seek advice over the gold. Thiriston will stay to keep watch over the Males Marian... as soon as is possible without suspicion, he will bring the others to the hideout... let me lead you there now, Arwen, your highness.’
*
‘Hmm...’
Radagast of Doncaster peered into the bag and sniffed its contents. He tipped out the coins into a wooden bowl and peered at them.
‘Yes... yes, definitely tainted. Cursed. And you’ve been having problems, you say? Thoughts of avarice and power and dominion?’
‘Not me personally.’
‘Well, good... it would have been rather odd, you being a proper Silvan. It tends to be mortals who suffer more from gold sickness... but you know an elf who has?’
‘Elrond. At least, we assumed it was the gold has changed him. Thranduil Lionheart asked him to keep an eye on things while he was away in Lothlórien... but when he arrived, Elrond took over, threw our dear prince into the dungeons and generally began making a nuisance of himself.’
‘Ah. Ah, that makes sense... the human genes, you know... Don’t fear, it’s an easy enough spell to get rid of. The hard part is actually wanting to do it, if you follow me.’
He rummaged amongst his collection of bottles and jars on a shelf behind him, returning with a small bag of white grains which he sprinkled over the coins, muttering an incantation. Nothing happened. He repeated his words in a more dramatic voice, and nothing happened again.
‘How very odd,’ he said, and dipped a finger into the bag to taste the contents. ‘Oh, silly me! That was sugar, I wanted the salt! Never mind! Pass me that water jug over, would you?’
Taking charge of the water, he poured a stream into the bowl where it splashed and dissolved the sugar. A little wisp of vapour released from the gold and Radagast nodded and fished out one or two coins.
‘Perfectly safe now! You can use salt, or water to wash the gold in, or bury the coins in earth – as long as they are in contact with it, although it’s rather labour intensive – or smelt it all down and recast it. Any of that will get rid of the curse.’
‘And the incantation?’
Radagast looked a little shamefaced.
‘Showmanship, dear fellow, showmanship.’ He fished out the rest of the gold and fed it back into its pouch. ‘There you are, all done.’
‘How can I repay you?’ Govon asked.
‘Next time you’re passing, I could do with some sugar... I seem to have used up all mine...’
*
Three days passed in relative peace in the Greenwood. Govon Hood and his merry elves, buoyed initially by the success of their plan, the release of their prince, and the news that untainting the gold would be comparatively easy, began to wonder what the next step would be.
Friar Erestor Tuck risked a trip to the castle to gather news and found Elrohir still in the cells and a little fed up about it.
‘Of course, the gaolers know it is Elrohir, but since they are on our side, they are keeping it quiet; Elrond has no idea.’
‘What? I can understand him not coming to the cells to gloat, but surely he noticed a twin missing?’
‘As for that, Elladan has been swapping clothes and pretending to be both himself and Elrohir. But, in fact, Elrond only noticed Arwen was missing last night... he sent for the Sherriff of Dúnedain, suspecting mischief, but Aragorn could honestly say he didn’t know where she was and that he hadn’t seen her since the contest. So now would be a very good time to put stage two into action.’
‘There’s a stage two?’ Legolas demanded. ‘Why did nobody tell me?’
‘A ransom note. Demand all the dragon gold in exchange for Arwen’s safe return. That way we can cleanse it and hopefully get the real Elrond back.’
‘Must we?’ Arwen said with a pout. ‘He was much stricter before gold got hold of him...’
‘We can’t go on like this!’ Legolas said. ‘I mean, I love the forest, and it’s good to try something new, for a change, but I do miss the home comforts...’
‘Home comforts? What home comforts? Comfy chairs?’
‘We are elves, we have no need of comfy chairs...’
‘Which is a good thing, in fact, because none of the chairs in the castle are particularly comfortable,’ Legolas said. ‘But... I do miss a proper bed. Good wine.’
‘Good beer,’ Govon agreed.
‘I like that honey beer, myself,’ Triwathon, one of the other merry elves who had no formal appellation, piped up.
‘So do I,’ Glorfindel said, grinning. ‘I love the fizzle...’
‘Enough, now,’ Legolas said. ‘We need to do something, and quickly...’
*
‘What is this you bring me?’ Elrond asked, peering. ‘Sherriff of Dúnedain? It is you?’
There was no doubt his eyesight was worsening; in fact, now he only seemed to see clearly when he was looking at the treasure chest of gold Dain had given him.
‘It is I indeed, my lord. And in my hand I hold a note, which was found pinned to the main doors with an arrow shot through it; one of Govon Hood’s arrows...’
‘Who...? That is, curse that confounded outlaw! What does he want?’
‘He wants you to know he has your daughter in custody,’ Aragorn said. ‘She will come to no harm, he says, but in return for her safe release, he wants the gold you were gifted by Dain...’
‘No! never! We have their prince, let him be exchanged for my daughter!’
‘But, my lord; the prince escaped, do you not remember?’ Aragorn asked patiently.
‘He...did?’
‘Days ago, now.’
‘The dastardly villain! What are we to do, Aragorn?’
‘Pay the ransom and get Arwen back safely.’
‘No... no, we cannot do that... one must never give in to threats...’
‘They give you until tomorrow to decide.’
‘Ha! So we have time, then. Aragorn, I want you to find my daughter, rescue her, and bring her home. That will show them...’
‘Indeed it would, my lord, and where should I begin looking? How many knights will there be at my disposal? Will there, be, my lord, overtime?’
‘No, of course not... listen. We will answer, we will tell them to come to the castle for the gold. But meanwhile we must move it, yes, tonight, you and my son... sons... you will help me, I will ride with it to guard it... there are caves to the north, we will hide it there, set a watch on it. But I must see it done... and then, when they come to the castle, we will take my daughter and give them nothing except retribution...’
*
‘I know the caves he means,’ Legolas said, once the Sherriff of Dúnedain had reported back, through the offices of Friar Erestor Tuck. ‘From the castle, the only road thence leads across the Enchanted River; we can ambush him on the bridge. Govon, these are your outlaws; what do you think?’
‘I think it is a good plan, but we will need to leave within the hour. And what if he changes his mind at the last minute? We must leave behind someone who knows the forest well to bring us news if this should happen.
‘Agreed. Triwathon-With-no-Formal-Appellation, you can stay here with Glorfindel Scarlett and Arwen.’
Triwathon nodded. The truth was, by the time he joined the Merry Elves, the only appellation left was ‘...of the White Hand’, and it reminded them all too much of Saruman the Wizard who had come to a rather unpleasant end, so the name had not been taken.
Midnight, and Govon’s outlaws were in position, some on the castle side of the river to block the retreat, others in the trees on the far side. Elrond had sent a formal answer to their ransom note; Arwen his daughter was most dear to him, but he doubted she wanted to come home that much and so, thank you, he would keep his gold. After she had got over her outrage, and once the others had stopped laughing at her, she admitted she had been having rather more fun than she was used to.
‘But still, he is my Adar and he should mind more!’ she said.
‘Take him to task for it later,’ Govon said. ‘Right now, have a care. All being well, we will see you soon.’
*
A little before midnight a covered wagon left the castle. Elrond was inside, alone save for the chest of dragon gold. Elladan drove, Elrohir seated next to him keeping a watch. Alongside, where the trail was wide enough, and behind where the road narrowed, rode the Sherriff of Dúnedain, his eyes strafing the shadows either side of the trail.
Finally the bridge approached.
‘My lord, the trail narrows; I will ride ahead to make sure it is safe for you to cross the River of Enchantment.’
‘Well, don’t get too far ahead, will you?’
Aragorn returned no reply, instead skirting the wagon and signalling to the twins to slow the horses. He crossed in safety, reining in as Govon made his presence known. Across the river, the rest of the band of elves blocked the retreat; indeed, there was no room for the wagon to turn on the bridge anyway.
Trusting Elrond’s eyesight was still appallingly fogged for anything other than the gold, Aragorn raised his hand to signal the wagon to stop.
‘My lord Elrond,’ he called out. ‘The way is blocked; it is passable on foot, or horse, but not for the wagon and...’
At this point in proceedings, Govon drew his bow and, for the look of things, nocked an arrow.
‘Halt!’ he shouted, his voice sounding stilted, rehearsed. ‘Get down from your seats, mellyn-nin, or live to regret it. But not for long...’
‘Is that the best you can do?’ Aragorn hissed. ‘You were much more threatening when you held up poor Lady Cullasbes last week!’
‘That was for real. And she had it coming. And...’
‘What is going on?’ Elrond demanded, peering out from the wagon.
‘We seem to have been waylaid by bandits,’ Elladan said, springing down from his seat.
‘And the Sherriff of Dúnedain has been captured,’ Elrohir added. ‘Alack.’
‘Well, do something!’ Elrond shouted, frantically feeling around him in the bed of the wagon for weapons; all he had on him was his sword. ‘Have you no bows? Shoot at them!’
‘Adar, you said bows were the weapons of the brigand and the poacher and the enemy and we should be above such things...’
With a strangled shout, Elrond snatched up the casket of treasure, lugging it after him as he struggled out of the wagon at the back. Half-blinded as he was, still the gold whispered to him and he knew instinctively his retreat was cut off and advancing would bring him only into more danger.
‘Well, help me, you two!’ he yelled, and even as the twins, with a careful glance at Govon Hood, began to edge towards their struggling father, he balanced the casket on the low parapet of the bridge, made a decision, and threw himself, and the tainted dragon gold, into the slurring waters beneath.
Everyone rushed to the bridge and peered over the side where Elrond splashed and then was still.
‘What part of ‘River of Enchantment’ did he not understand, do you think?’ Govon asked. ‘And has anybody got a boathook...?’
*
Elrond woke with a blistering headache and a strange sense of dislocation. Beneath him was softness, around him warmth. A cool hand rested on his forehead for a moment.
‘Easy, Adar... ‘
‘Arwen?’
‘Yes, Ada, it is I.’
The hand moved to clasp his, and Elrond struggled to open his eyes and sit up. He was in a bright chamber, sunlight streaming in through the casement window, the bedding around him was crisp and fresh and his headache began to subside a little.
‘I was having the most peculiar dreams...’ he whispered in a scratchy voice.
Arwen retrieved her hand to pour him some water.
‘Drink up, Adar. You have been asleep for days, and although we have managed to get you to take some water while you slept, you need more.’
Elrond realised he was very thirsty indeed and drank gratefully.
‘But where is this place? It is not Imladris...’
‘You really do not remember?’ Arwen sighed. ‘Perhaps that is just as well.’
‘I dreamed... there was some gold... it was... very important, and... Glorfindel, dressed as a female...? Except I didn’t notice at the time... why was that...?’
‘You have been ill, Ada. You were poisoned by the gold Dain brought you, and then you fell into the Enchanted River, and it made you sleep.’
‘It also washed the curse from the gold,’ another voice said. ‘So that you should be clear of it now.’
‘Legolas? What has been going on?’
The prince opened his mouth to begin the story, and then stopped himself.’
‘You weren’t yourself,’ he said. ‘Let’s leave it at that, shall we?’
‘But... Dain? Poisoned gold?’
‘Dragon gold, and therefore cursed.’
‘He has written to us, having heard of the trouble you caused under its influence, Ada.’
‘Me?’
‘You taxed all the villagers, you banished all Thranduil’s warriors, you threw Legolas into prison and you were really quite beastly to me!’ Arwen said. ‘In his letter, Dain said he is very sorry, but he knew one way to lift the curse would be to pass it on to someone who was immune. He never thought your human heritage would make you susceptible.’
‘At least, that is what he says,’ Legolas said doubtfully. ‘When he brought similar gold to us, he was very persuasive... luckily my Adar is good at saying ‘no’ to people.’
‘What happened to the gold? No, I am not in its thrall in any way, I do not need gold, but it might be useful if I have... perhaps... made a nuisance of myself...’
‘The coins spilled from the coffer and were washed clean in the river. Some have begun to work their way down the stream, and fishing for them has become a new pastime. But there are a few little things to sort out... when you’re feeling better... and my father gets home.’ Legolas grinned. ‘I must admit, I’m rather looking forward to that.’
*
News came that Thranduil and his entourage had entered the forest and were due home in a day or so. Legolas passed the word to Govon, now reinstated as chief of the castle guards.
‘It’s a shame it’s over, in a way,’ Govon said. ‘We enjoyed living in the Greenwood, just us amongst the trees. We really should do it more often. And being Govon Hood with a band of merry elves... it was fun. More natural somehow. Still, all things change.’
‘Do you know, I don’t think I ever heard Lindir a-Dale’s song? Not in full.’
‘I do wish you hadn’t said that while he was in earshot,’ Govon muttered, for Lindir was looking hopeful and tuning up his lute...
‘Just once won’t hurt,’ Legolas grinned. ‘Lindir – whenever you are ready...’
‘Govon Hood, Govon Hood, rides through glades and dells,
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, with his Merry Elves,
Feared by the bad
And loved by the good...
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, Govon Hood...’
‘Lindir, that is excellent!’ Legolas exclaimed. ‘I like that, it is catchy and...’
‘Second verse,’ Lindir said.
‘Second verse...?’
‘He gathered some fine archers to a tavern on the green
They vowed to help the people of the king
They handled all the troubles in the Greenwood Forest scene
And still found plenty of time to sing...’
‘All right, Lindir, that was lovely, but...’
‘Govon Hood, Govon Hood, riding through the glen
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, in Eryn Lasgalen
When Elrond went bad
He did what he could
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, Govon Hood...’
‘Lindir, thank you, but...’
‘Oh, but there is more, lots more...’
Legolas went across to Lindir and patted his shoulder.
‘How much more?’
‘Just four more verses.’
‘Four...?’
‘And the chorus for after each verse, of course.’
‘Of course, Lindir... maybe you had better save it for when my Adar gets home. After the feast.’
‘Oh, that is a good idea... I may even be able to think of some more verses, too... but I will need to practice...’
‘Well, why do you not go and sit with Elrond? He has been asking what happened while he was... under the influence. This might be an excellent way for him to find out, while you practice.’
Lindir nodded and got to his feet, hastening off to Elrond’s convalescent chamber, another verse of ‘Govon Hood’ already beginning to shape itself in his fertile mind.
Govon shook his head.
‘What your father will say when he comes back...’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Legolas grinned. ‘He’ll probably be delighted that Elrond proved himself only half-human, after all...’
‘Well, if you will excuse me, my prince, I should oversee our weapons practice.’
‘And I have had a complaint that not all the merry elves were eager to give back their Males Marian costumes...’
Govon shook his head.
‘Sometimes I really worry about Glorfindel,’ he said.
A/N: Original theme tune words and lyrics from ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’ by Carl Sigman.
Characters repurposed:
Robin Hood; Prince (later King) John; Richard the Lionheart; Friar Tuck; Will Scarlett; Little John
Alan a-Dale; Much the Millar’s Son; Will Stutly; David of Doncaster; Arthur a Bland
Gilbert of the White Hand (the name not used)
Maid Marian (see Wikipedia for Marian’s roles in the legend
Ranking: Tied for 3rd place
Summary: When Elrond visits the Greenwood, not everything goes according to plan...
Being a mash-up of English Robin Hood myth and legend... No reference to any television or movie versions other than the 1955 – 1959 TV series ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’.
Rated K+/Teen for innuendo and cosplaying.
Not so much a Modern AU, as a mediaeval one...
‘Govon Hood, Govon Hood,
Riding through the glen.
Govon Hood, Govon Hood,
With his merry elves
They take from the Rich
in order to redistribute the coinage to the poor, obviously...
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, Govon Hood...’
Lindir a-Dale finished the refrain with a flourish. The eponymous hero – or anti-hero – shook his head, but smiled at the same time.
‘It needs a little work, I think,’ he said.
‘You could be right, Govon,’ Lindir said, setting aside his lute. ‘Of course, if we were men, and not elves, it would be much easier...’
‘Wash your mouth out!’ Canadion the Millar’s Son said sharply. ‘Men, indeed!’
‘What about... ‘... they take from the bad... and give to the good... Govon Hood, Govon Hood, Govon Hood...’
‘Ai, everyone is a critic! Glorfindel Scarlett, I will thank you to keep your suggestions to yourself!’ Lindir a-Dale said with a roll of his eyes.
‘Only trying to help,’ Glorfindel protested with a one-shouldered shrug.
‘...Govon Hood, Govon Hood,
Rides through woods and dells
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, with his merry elves...
They rob from the rich
And give to the poor...
It’s what they’re for, what they’re for, what they’re for...’ Lindir a-Dale tried.
‘Better,’ Govon Hood agreed. ‘If you’d consider Glorfindel’s ‘bad’ and ‘good’ idea, it’s pretty much there, I think.’
Lindir’s lips moved swiftly as he ran through the lyrics. Loathe to admit Glorfindel had a point, still his musicianship demanded that he see how well it worked.
‘Yes, I might do that,’ he agreed. ‘ Of course, I could have rhymed ‘glen’ with ‘Eryn Lasgalen, which avoids the half-rhyme of ‘dell’ with ‘elves’, but...’
But nobody was interested.
Govon clapped him on the shoulder.
‘Good job,’ he said. ‘So. We have our official song, we have... lots of supporters, but only a few key operatives involved in all our plans. We have... how much in the coffers?’
‘Lots of shiny round things,’ Canadion said. ‘We are elves, what do we need with this money stuff?’
‘Well, since Elrond declared himself Lord of the Greenwood when Thranduil Lionheart and Arveldir a Bland went crusading for Silvan’s equal rights with the Galadhrim, it’s the only chance we have of ransoming our prince.’ Govon shook his head. ‘And the people Elrond’s locked up for non-payment of taxes... whatever they are... Had I known he would throw our prince into the cells and take over...’
‘Had we known, we’d never have come along with him,’ Glorfindel said, nudging Govon with his shoulder. ‘Me, and Lindir, and Erestor, we thought Thranduil Lionheart had asked him to keep an eye on things... as soon as we realised...’
‘Well, to be fair, he did,’ Govon sighed. ‘But I am sure, had Thranduil known Elrond would throw our prince into prison and taken over everything, he would simply have written a strongly-worded letter to Galadriel instead, and stayed home. As it is, your help has been invaluable.’
‘I can’t get through to the lads, though,’ Glorfindel said. ‘He’s their Adar, he’s having a mid-life crisis, that’s why he’s gone all Prince-John-robber-baron on us... that’s what they say. They don’t like it, but they can’t leave him by himself. Arwen wants to mutiny, but what can she do? The only thing like a weapon she’s allowed is a Size 5 crochet hook...’
‘Erestor will be back soon, hopefully with news. I know it galls you to stay here with us while he is our spy but, really, Glorfindel, however we tried to disguise you, you are bound to be discovered. You are so...’ Govon sought for words. ‘Blatant’ came to mind, but could have caused offence. ‘So distinctive,’ he settled on finally. ‘And your naturally heroic nature would probably lead you to dramatic actions for which we are not yet ready...’
*
Up at the castle, Legolas was enduring his Durance Vile with good heart; Arwen had come to visit, bringing her crochet hook and wool, and a cushion so that she could sit in the corridor outside Legolas’ cell and chat to him without freezing.
‘I do not know what has got into Ada,’ she said. ‘One minute he was fine, hosting feasts and presiding over the singing, and then all of a sudden, no sooner had Dain’s representatives left than up we all had to get, pack our bags, and away across the mountains! I almost wish Dain hadn’t paid Ada the damages promised; he was all right until then...’
‘Wait...’ Legolas said. ‘What was that? Damages?’
‘From when Thorin and company stayed. Oh, there was a terrible time, ask poor Lindir; we found him crying in a broom cupboard afterwards... ‘Have they gone yet?’ was all he would say...’
‘Well, I can understand that! You should have seen the mess they made of Adar’s dungeons!’
‘Oh, it was dreadful in Rivendell! They liberated all the silverware and Elrond had to have the main fountain disinfected...’ Arwen shook her head sadly. ‘Not to mention the kitchens ran out of almost everything... and the breakages... so although my father said he didn’t want any recompense, Dain insisted...’
‘They offered my father recompense, too; from the dragon hoard. Adar told Dain where he could store each and every coin of it...’
Arwen giggled.
‘But why? You know how dwarves value gold; that they were willing to donate...’
‘Dragon gold? Gold with the curse of a dragon upon it, the dark dreams of avarice and greed? Frankly, my father the king was not impressed. Dain tried to insist but Father gave him that Look; you know, the one he keeps for special annoyance, and then said if Dain was serious, he would repatriate all the starlight gemstones he and his people acquired by apparent accident instead. Or else. The stones are pure, they don’t take the dragon curse the same way the money does.’
‘Legolas...’ Arwen began slowly. ‘Do you think... perhaps... the gold Dain brought Ada...’
‘Could have been tainted and cursed?’ Legolas shrugged. ‘Possibly. Of course, for all I know this is perfectly normal behaviour for your father...’
‘Indeed!’ Arwen bristled. ‘My father is good, and kind, and wise and just. He would not dream of...’
‘Of usurping the throne of Mirkwood and throwing its prince regent in jail?’ Legolas asked. ‘Of taxing the people of the region until they can’t afford bread and hiring the worst of ruffians to take by force the little they have left?’
‘Well, I like that!’ Arwen protested. ‘My Aragorn had to take that job as Sherriff... otherwise who knows what might have happened?’
‘Let me guess... people taxed harshly, outlaws – our friends – threatened...’
‘He’s only doing it so he can keep Adar under his eye!’
‘And this silly archery contest at the weekend?’
‘You’re only calling it silly because you can’t be there to compete! No, what’s silly is all this Maid Marian Queen of the May business... we don’t have anything like it at home!’
‘But you’re still entering.’
‘Of course. And if I know your friends, they’ll be entering too.’
‘The Maid Marian thing?’
‘No, silly – the archery... although there’s an idea... When Erestor gets here – I’ve taken to calling him Friar Tuck, because he has to tuck things up his habit to make himself look plump and unlike himself so Adar won’t recognise him... I have a plan, we can all work on it then... Well, I had better go, I am getting quite chilled... I will be back later, Legolas! Hold the faith!’
Hold the faith? In whom? A crocheting scatterbrain and a handful of elves hiding in disguise? Legolas sighed. It really was not looking good.
*
A whistle came soaring down through the trees and presently two figures arrived, flitting through the shadows.
‘Little Thiriston, Friar Erestor! What news?’
‘I am getting heartily fed up of stuffing these robes to make myself look properly friarly!’ Erestor complained. ‘Govon, there is, indeed, news. Elrond John has announced that no ransom will be sufficient to release our prince from Durance Vile... only if Legolas renounces his claim to the throne will he be set free...’
‘Then what is the point of us having robbed that coachload of travellers last Tuesday?’ Govon threw up his hands in despair. ‘The older lady was most put out, and now what are we going to do with all this money?’
‘Redistribute it amongst the poor, I suppose,’ Glorfindel said. ‘We could start with the poor innkeeper... then the poor lady at the knocking shop with all the nice daughters...’
‘What is a knocking shop?’ Canadion the Miller’s Son asked. ‘Is it somewhere to buy kn...?’
‘It’s the sort of place you need to keep away from,’ Little Thiriston said sternly.
‘Moving on,’ Erestor said firmly. ‘The Sheriff of Dúnedain, Elrond John’s foster-son Aragorn, has ordered an archery contest this Saturday as part of the May Festival. I believe he’s told Elrond he’s hoping to draw out some of these...ahem... wretched outlaws... into the open.’
‘Ah, and it would never do to disappoint him, would it?’
‘It is said that Elrond John will be present, and Arwen, also. There will be a contest for the Queen of the May, who locally is known as the Maid Marian.’
‘Really?’ Glorfindel said. ‘That’s confusing!’
‘I know, but it’s tradition amongst the humans,’ Govon said. ‘All the maids dress up in their finest blue robes and don long blonde wigs - they are known as the Maids Marian – and the one most representative of all the maidenly virtues is crowned Queen of the May. This gives her licence to romp in the forest, if she chooses and, presumably, behave in a less maidenly way. And if there’s one thing we don’t need, it’s romping maidens invading our forest when we’re trying to be outlaws!’ he added with a sigh. ‘Well, we’ll need to make a plan...’
‘Indeed, and I have already been working on one,’ Erestor said, trying not to sound smug. ‘When I went to see the prince, Arwen found her way to us also. It seems that this archery contest is a ruse by the Sherriff of Dúnedain to help get us near Elrond in relative safety. And Arwen has a plan by which we may be able to free the prince... furthermore, it may be not entirely Elrond’s fault that he has acted in so despicable a manner; he has lately, Arwen reminded me, accepted damages from Dain...’
‘And it was not nearly enough, it could never be enough!’ Lindir a-Dale blurted with a shudder. ‘The things they did... the horrors I have seen...’
‘There, there... it is all over now and the nasty dwarveses are all gone away...’ Erestor said, reaching out to pat Lindir’s shoulder. ‘Yes. Quite. Damages which were paid in, we now think, tainted dragon gold.’
‘Oh.’
‘Ah.’
‘Dain tried that on Thranduil,’ Govon said. ‘Our king didn’t accept. So Elrond has been tainted by dragon gold, who would have thought it?’
‘More to the point, what can we do about it?’ Glorfindel said. ‘At least we know it’s not his fault; the lads will be pleased! Were you able to see them, Erestor?’
Friar Erestor shook his head as he shed some of his padding.
‘No, unfortunately not; they were riding out with Aragorn, apparently. But they have promised to help on Saturday... This is what we have agreed so far...’
*
Keeping out of her father’s sight as much as she properly could, Arwen assembled a few vital things together and collected from her yarn store all of the yellow and gold shades she possessed for use in the hair of her Maid Marian costume. Consulting with Friar Erestor Tuck, she listened and assisted eagerly with the plan.
‘We will need more wigs,’ Erestor said,’ for we will all need disguises and if some are Maids Marian – ahem Males Marian – then it will be more confusing and easier to evade pursuit.’
‘Arwen, are you sure we can depend on your brothers?’ Legolas asked.
‘Oh, yes – now they know it is not Adar’s fault, but the tainted gold, they are with us all the way. And I have a lovely straw colour that is a perfect match...’
‘Of all the parts of this mad plan, this is what I dislike the most!’ Legolas said. ‘But if it will get me out of here, I am prepared to do almost anything.’
*
By the predawn light on the day of the archery and Queen of the May contest, all was as ready as it could be in the Greenwood. Lindir gave them a rousing chorus of ‘Govon Hood’ and then slipped into his disguise, leaving his hair unbraided and wearing soft, light robes that made him look more like an escort-duty elf than a minstrel.
‘If anyone asks, I am Aeglos a-Dale,’ he said.
‘Well, try not to let anyone ask!’ Govon Hood said. ‘Now, come along, everyone. You all know what to do? Well, make sure you do it properly, and at the right moment!’
They slid through the forest, shade in the shadows, shadows in the green shade, and split up, Erestor to go to the castle and the others to the village green where the festivities were to take place. A raised platform with a sheltered area and seating had already been arranged for the guests of honour, and striped pavilions gave a bright and cheerful air around the edge of the green.
A panel at the back of one of these tents opened and Galion Stutly beckoned to them.
‘In here, mellyn-nin!’ he hissed. ‘I have brought all down from the palace as ordered. I will be serving wine to Elrond John later, against my wishes, but I will be here for a time.’
‘Thank you, Galion; our prince will thank you, too, I am sure. Very well, get yourselves changed. There is peasant garb for those taking part in the archery. The rest, into the costumes for your contest also...’
Glorfindel Scarlett lifted the garments assigned to him and looked an appeal at Govon.
‘You know, I’m not a bad shot... I am certain I would be better in peasant garb than this...?’
‘In fact, what matters more is that the disguises work. Little Thiriston looks better as a peasant; you we need, with Canadion, dressed for the other contest... and you haven’t stopped grumbling since you got here that blue was your colour, not green...’
‘But why do I have to wear the wig? I have perfect blond hair already...’
‘Because it needs to look like a wig! Come, you will be a wonderful Maid Marian.’
‘I don’t have a hope of winning, though!’ Glorfindel protested.
‘You are not entering to win, you are entering to cause confusion later and, you can hide swords under your garments. Now, come along!’
Soon all were ready, Govon and Thiriston dressed as peasants with their bows over their backs, Glorfindel and Canadion changed into blue gowns and blonde wigs.
‘Excellent,’ Govon said. ‘Archers and Maids Marian...’
‘Males Marian, you mean!’ Glorfindel said, pouting theatrically. ‘That’s what Erestor Tuck calls us!’
‘Ha, indeed! Males Marian... we will stay here until the crowds thicken, and then we will move amongst them. Canadion, do not forget that Arwen has made your wig from the same shade of wool as she has our prince’s, so if his escape is realised, and they recognise him in his costume, there is a chance that from a distance they will mistake the two of you. In such case, it is your job to draw them off. Good luck, everyone.’
*
‘Psst! Psst, Legolas!’
The prince stirred, sitting up from his pallet in the corner. He blinked.
Arwen was outside, waving the keys to his cell at him. Over the top of her elegant gown she wore a plain blue dress which only needed lacing to hide her finery beneath. Over her lovely dark hair she wore a blonde wig made from crocheted yellow wool. Behind her was Friar Erestor Tuck, hands folded over the cushion stuffed into his habit making him look pregnant, rather than portly, and Elrohir, the younger of Elrond John’s twin sons. Over his arms was folded what looked like a bright blue robe, but which could have been a dress, and Legolas began to have serious misgivings.
‘There is not much time,’ Erestor said. ‘Your highness, you must change into this... raiment, although it is hardly flattering. Elrohir will need your clothes.’
‘I am beginning to think this is a terrible idea!’ Legolas protested.
‘In fact, it is the only idea; if it works...’
‘It will be little short of a miracle!’ Legolas grumbled, but changed into the dress and passed over his clothes to Elladan. ‘Could I not at least keep my breeches?’
‘Would you wear mine instead?’ Elladan queried. ‘We are dressed too unalike to get away with this...’
Finally they were changed, clothes swapped, Legolas wearing not-quite-fitting leggings under his disguise and hiding his hair under a long wig in a far dirtier blond than his own shade while Elladan’s wig matched Legolas’ hair perfectly.
‘So, all you need to do, Elrohir, is pretend to be asleep. Nobody will look twice at you,’ Arwen said, fastening up her robes. ‘Come, Legolas... I suppose we should find you a name... would Thranduiliel be too obvious?’
‘I am dressed as Maid Marian, just call me that!’ he said. ‘Come on, if we must do this, let’s get it over with!’
The castle being busy with the bustle of planning for Elrond John’s trip down to the village for the celebrations, and with half the servant girls dressed up as Marians, there was so much running around going on that nobody paid any heed to two more blue-dressed, blond-wigged figures in company of an oddly-shaped friar, and they were soon out through the kitchen gardens and away down the path to the village. Part way there, they were met by two more Maids – Males – Marian as Canadion the Millar’s Son and Glorfindel Scarlett joined them.
‘My price, it is so good to see you!’ Canadion enthused. ‘For all that we knew you were alive, and had friends in the castle, still, we have been worried!’
‘And you, Canadion, and our friends? Are they all safe, too?’
‘Pretty much, although today is a big risk...’
‘True. Although I do not doubt Elladan and Elrohir are with us, I have not spoken to Aragorn...’
‘He’s on our side,’ Arwen said firmly. ‘And he knows exactly what will happen – or what won’t happen – if he lets me down...’
*
The reunion of the prince with his loyal friends was heartfelt, exuberant, and threatened to topple the little pavilion in which they hid as all attempted to hug him at once.
‘Put me down, stand off!’ he said, laughing. ‘Just because I am in a dress, as are some of you, it does not mean you should greet me like your sister! Yes, yes, I am fine... now come, tell me of you? What has been happening these last weeks while I’ve been locked up?’
Hastily, Govon explained how, once Elrond had inserted himself into Legolas’ place, he had taken his key warriors out of the castle under cover of dark to run a guerrilla campaign in the woods.
‘We knew your father our king to be weeks away, and he having taken most of the warriors with him to Lothlórien, we had no hope of arms just yet. All we could hope to do was fight a rear-guard action, turn the villagers against him – although, that was not difficult!’ Govon said. ‘And our hope was to somehow free you. Now, my prince, you are free! We have a stronghold in the Greenwood where you will be safe and now Elrond John has nothing to hold over us...’
‘He’s not himself,’ Legolas said. ‘As Arwen here will tell you, he’s under the enchantment of tainted gold.’
‘We realise this. But until we can see some of this tainted gold for ourselves, we will not know if the curse will be lifted; it is said that the prize money for the archery contest will be paid from this hoard, so one of us must win it.’
‘So why am I dressed as a Maid Marian and not as an archer?’
‘Because I am every bit as good a shot as you, my prince! And it is too risky. If you are recaptured... well, I doubt we could release you again. Your father is still weeks away, even if he can return with full force, Elrond is entrenched and many of our people are still in there. Storming the castle would only result in tragedy... which is why we have a plan...’
‘Ah, yes. The plan...’
*
Elrond was not having a good day.
It was fair to say it had been a while since he had, actually, had a day which had felt in any way good.
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with long fingers, sighing as he sat back in his carriage.
The truth was, he hadn’t been feeling himself lately. He had headaches, his vision was fuzzed, and everywhere he saw gold, and silver, and felt the cold, hard need for wealth clutching at his heart. A part of him didn’t understand this, but the other part, the human part took him from his rooms at night to sit in the strongroom and run his hands through the treasure Dain had brought him and which he had had felt compelled to bring with him on this quest.
Now, sitting in his carriage as it bumped down the hill towards the village, the elven part of him was aghast at the sheer pleasure he had felt as those cool coins had spilled through his tumbling fingers, the susurration of the slithering silver like the song of the sea, waking a longing in his human soul almost as strong as the sea longing his kindred were prey to. But the joy of gold, the smell of it, the touch...
It was wrong! Elrond gave himself a shake. Oh, not the coming over the mountains to take charge while Thranduil was away... and then, these Silvans, so wild, they needed a bit of culture... it was his duty to Elvenkind to step in. Thranduil would quite agree, he was sure. And Legolas... well, once it was all settled, the troublesome prince would know he had overstepped his bounds when he tried to rule in Thranduil’s place; that was for the older, wiser generation...
But he was tired, it felt as if there was a voice in his mind all the time, whispering about gold, and his eyesight was blurred, clouded with visions of coins and power and it was all he could do to drag himself to the carriage this morning to head off down to the village for this futile spectacle.
Outside his carriage rode the Sherriff of Dúnedain, a good enough chap, but with designs on Arwen, Elrond was sure of it. Well, he wanted better for her, but Aragorn didn’t know that, yet, and so everything Elrond asked of him he tried to do. Idly he wondered how long before the Sherriff would get bored and ride off to find another lady to pursue...
‘My lord? My lord, we are here,’ a voice said.
Coming back to himself with an effort, Elrond saw the open door of the carriage and managed to stagger out of it. Hands reached to support him; he waved them off impatiently and allowed Aragorn to escort him to his seat.
‘Where’s Arwen?’ he demanded. ‘And my sons?’
‘Arwen has decided to enter the Queen of the May contest, my lord,’ Aragorn said, deftly sliding a hand under Elrond’s elbow and helping him to his place. ‘She has dressed as one of the Maids Marian... I am sure she will be here soon. Your sons are on guard at the castle, as you requested.’
Elrond sat, and drank, and watched displays of fighting although he could not make out clearly who was involved. Arwen came and sat beside him, and he nodded to her, blinking as he wondered what was different about her.
‘You dyed your hair?’
‘In fact,’ Aragorn said from Elrond’s other side, scowling at Glorfindel in his Male Marian outfit who was batting his eyelashes at Elrond, ‘your... daughter is wearing the wig traditionally part of the Maid Marian costume. Arwen, you wanted me to show you the sights? Come, let us take a walk before the archery contest begins...’
Out of earshot, Glorfindel scowled at Aragorn.
‘You can let go now!’
‘That was foolish, and risky! What if he had recognised you?’
‘I was hoping he would! What’s happened to the Elrond we knew and respected?’
‘He complains of headaches and that he cannot see clearly. It’s the dragon gold, I am sure of it... now, where is Arwen? Her father will be asking for her soon, he wants to watch the archery with her at his side to give out the prize money.’
*
The archery contest was as exciting as they ever are; Govon Hood, dressed in a motley assortment of peasant garb won easily, splitting his own arrow to show just how good his shooting had become. He went up to receive his prize, bowing to Arwen as she handed over a purse to him.
‘Be careful,’ she whispered. ‘It is from the gold Dain brought.’
He glanced up at the staging where Elrond was staring at him, peering as if trying to make out his face, but as he bowed again, the usurper waved dismissal and he escaped back to the shelter of the pavilion.
‘We need to find out how to cleanse this gold,’ he said, holding the purse as if it in itself was tainted. ‘Radagast of Doncaster has renown as a wizard. But who to send...? The Males Marian need to stay... Erestor, Lindir, you will not know where to find him... Thiriston...’
The big elf held Govon’s gaze.
‘You think I want to go trotting off to some mad wizard and leave my friends dressed as females? What happens when the drinking starts?’
Govon sighed. ‘I think that means I will have to go.’
‘It won’t hurt for you to be out of the way,’ Glorfindel said. ‘If that really is tainted gold, then Elrond is going to repent giving it away. He might come looking for it.’
‘That’s true. Right. Thiriston, you’re in charge while I’m away. Where is there a horse I can steal?’
*
The line-up for the Queen of the May was spectacularly disappointing this year, all the villagers agreed. With the exception of Arwen from the castle, and a couple of her friends (both of whose wigs were an off-putting shade of dirty blonde), nobody, not even the prettiest of the village girls, came close.
But Aragorn, the Sherriff of Dúnedain walked up and down the row as if it was a nigh on impossible task. Finally, he pulled forward Arwen and Legolas.
‘I cannot decide between these two,’ he announced loudly. ‘And so I give the crown to both!’ As he spoke, he broke the woven floral garland used for crowning the May Queen in two, and set half on Arwen’s head, the other on Legolas’ to make to coronets, feeding the ends through the loops of crochet work to secure them. ‘And now, I believe you two have some romping to do?’
‘Properly, all the Maids Marian spend time about the festivities, and only the May Queen runs off into the forest,’ Legolas said. ‘But... it sounds as if we’ve got what we came for, so why not?’
‘Look after Arwen,’ Aragorn said. ‘Properly. With respect. One day, I will make her mine, so just remember who has been helping you...’
‘Yes, very grateful. Canadion, with me. Arwen, Glorfindel? You two as well; I’ve had an idea to refine the original plan...’
In the privacy of the purloined pavilion, Legolas removed his wig.
‘You can’t do that!’ Arwen exclaimed. ‘You’re meant to be Queen of the May...’
‘Canadion, give me your wig... you take mine... swap dresses... there! And now you are co-Queen of the May, because you have the same coronet, and the same gown... and, Glorfindel, did not you sit next to Elrond earlier and he thought you were his daughter?’
‘Well, he did, but... Oh, no. No, no no...’
‘Oh, YES!’ Arwen exclaimed, pulling off her wig and reaching for Glorfindel’s in turn. ‘And the dress is infinitely adjustable, thanks to the lacings, so you have no excuse... Come along! I am waiting!’
Lindir – Aiglos a-Dale slipped into the tent. ‘The others are waiting in the eaves of the forest... Ai, what is this? What have you done?’
The three Males Marian exchanged glances.
‘Glorfindel is pretending to be Arwen and Canadion is pretending to be me. Thus Arwen and I should be able to get away more easily.’
‘I see. Well, come with me now. Govon has gone off to seek advice over the gold. Thiriston will stay to keep watch over the Males Marian... as soon as is possible without suspicion, he will bring the others to the hideout... let me lead you there now, Arwen, your highness.’
*
‘Hmm...’
Radagast of Doncaster peered into the bag and sniffed its contents. He tipped out the coins into a wooden bowl and peered at them.
‘Yes... yes, definitely tainted. Cursed. And you’ve been having problems, you say? Thoughts of avarice and power and dominion?’
‘Not me personally.’
‘Well, good... it would have been rather odd, you being a proper Silvan. It tends to be mortals who suffer more from gold sickness... but you know an elf who has?’
‘Elrond. At least, we assumed it was the gold has changed him. Thranduil Lionheart asked him to keep an eye on things while he was away in Lothlórien... but when he arrived, Elrond took over, threw our dear prince into the dungeons and generally began making a nuisance of himself.’
‘Ah. Ah, that makes sense... the human genes, you know... Don’t fear, it’s an easy enough spell to get rid of. The hard part is actually wanting to do it, if you follow me.’
He rummaged amongst his collection of bottles and jars on a shelf behind him, returning with a small bag of white grains which he sprinkled over the coins, muttering an incantation. Nothing happened. He repeated his words in a more dramatic voice, and nothing happened again.
‘How very odd,’ he said, and dipped a finger into the bag to taste the contents. ‘Oh, silly me! That was sugar, I wanted the salt! Never mind! Pass me that water jug over, would you?’
Taking charge of the water, he poured a stream into the bowl where it splashed and dissolved the sugar. A little wisp of vapour released from the gold and Radagast nodded and fished out one or two coins.
‘Perfectly safe now! You can use salt, or water to wash the gold in, or bury the coins in earth – as long as they are in contact with it, although it’s rather labour intensive – or smelt it all down and recast it. Any of that will get rid of the curse.’
‘And the incantation?’
Radagast looked a little shamefaced.
‘Showmanship, dear fellow, showmanship.’ He fished out the rest of the gold and fed it back into its pouch. ‘There you are, all done.’
‘How can I repay you?’ Govon asked.
‘Next time you’re passing, I could do with some sugar... I seem to have used up all mine...’
*
Three days passed in relative peace in the Greenwood. Govon Hood and his merry elves, buoyed initially by the success of their plan, the release of their prince, and the news that untainting the gold would be comparatively easy, began to wonder what the next step would be.
Friar Erestor Tuck risked a trip to the castle to gather news and found Elrohir still in the cells and a little fed up about it.
‘Of course, the gaolers know it is Elrohir, but since they are on our side, they are keeping it quiet; Elrond has no idea.’
‘What? I can understand him not coming to the cells to gloat, but surely he noticed a twin missing?’
‘As for that, Elladan has been swapping clothes and pretending to be both himself and Elrohir. But, in fact, Elrond only noticed Arwen was missing last night... he sent for the Sherriff of Dúnedain, suspecting mischief, but Aragorn could honestly say he didn’t know where she was and that he hadn’t seen her since the contest. So now would be a very good time to put stage two into action.’
‘There’s a stage two?’ Legolas demanded. ‘Why did nobody tell me?’
‘A ransom note. Demand all the dragon gold in exchange for Arwen’s safe return. That way we can cleanse it and hopefully get the real Elrond back.’
‘Must we?’ Arwen said with a pout. ‘He was much stricter before gold got hold of him...’
‘We can’t go on like this!’ Legolas said. ‘I mean, I love the forest, and it’s good to try something new, for a change, but I do miss the home comforts...’
‘Home comforts? What home comforts? Comfy chairs?’
‘We are elves, we have no need of comfy chairs...’
‘Which is a good thing, in fact, because none of the chairs in the castle are particularly comfortable,’ Legolas said. ‘But... I do miss a proper bed. Good wine.’
‘Good beer,’ Govon agreed.
‘I like that honey beer, myself,’ Triwathon, one of the other merry elves who had no formal appellation, piped up.
‘So do I,’ Glorfindel said, grinning. ‘I love the fizzle...’
‘Enough, now,’ Legolas said. ‘We need to do something, and quickly...’
*
‘What is this you bring me?’ Elrond asked, peering. ‘Sherriff of Dúnedain? It is you?’
There was no doubt his eyesight was worsening; in fact, now he only seemed to see clearly when he was looking at the treasure chest of gold Dain had given him.
‘It is I indeed, my lord. And in my hand I hold a note, which was found pinned to the main doors with an arrow shot through it; one of Govon Hood’s arrows...’
‘Who...? That is, curse that confounded outlaw! What does he want?’
‘He wants you to know he has your daughter in custody,’ Aragorn said. ‘She will come to no harm, he says, but in return for her safe release, he wants the gold you were gifted by Dain...’
‘No! never! We have their prince, let him be exchanged for my daughter!’
‘But, my lord; the prince escaped, do you not remember?’ Aragorn asked patiently.
‘He...did?’
‘Days ago, now.’
‘The dastardly villain! What are we to do, Aragorn?’
‘Pay the ransom and get Arwen back safely.’
‘No... no, we cannot do that... one must never give in to threats...’
‘They give you until tomorrow to decide.’
‘Ha! So we have time, then. Aragorn, I want you to find my daughter, rescue her, and bring her home. That will show them...’
‘Indeed it would, my lord, and where should I begin looking? How many knights will there be at my disposal? Will there, be, my lord, overtime?’
‘No, of course not... listen. We will answer, we will tell them to come to the castle for the gold. But meanwhile we must move it, yes, tonight, you and my son... sons... you will help me, I will ride with it to guard it... there are caves to the north, we will hide it there, set a watch on it. But I must see it done... and then, when they come to the castle, we will take my daughter and give them nothing except retribution...’
*
‘I know the caves he means,’ Legolas said, once the Sherriff of Dúnedain had reported back, through the offices of Friar Erestor Tuck. ‘From the castle, the only road thence leads across the Enchanted River; we can ambush him on the bridge. Govon, these are your outlaws; what do you think?’
‘I think it is a good plan, but we will need to leave within the hour. And what if he changes his mind at the last minute? We must leave behind someone who knows the forest well to bring us news if this should happen.
‘Agreed. Triwathon-With-no-Formal-Appellation, you can stay here with Glorfindel Scarlett and Arwen.’
Triwathon nodded. The truth was, by the time he joined the Merry Elves, the only appellation left was ‘...of the White Hand’, and it reminded them all too much of Saruman the Wizard who had come to a rather unpleasant end, so the name had not been taken.
Midnight, and Govon’s outlaws were in position, some on the castle side of the river to block the retreat, others in the trees on the far side. Elrond had sent a formal answer to their ransom note; Arwen his daughter was most dear to him, but he doubted she wanted to come home that much and so, thank you, he would keep his gold. After she had got over her outrage, and once the others had stopped laughing at her, she admitted she had been having rather more fun than she was used to.
‘But still, he is my Adar and he should mind more!’ she said.
‘Take him to task for it later,’ Govon said. ‘Right now, have a care. All being well, we will see you soon.’
*
A little before midnight a covered wagon left the castle. Elrond was inside, alone save for the chest of dragon gold. Elladan drove, Elrohir seated next to him keeping a watch. Alongside, where the trail was wide enough, and behind where the road narrowed, rode the Sherriff of Dúnedain, his eyes strafing the shadows either side of the trail.
Finally the bridge approached.
‘My lord, the trail narrows; I will ride ahead to make sure it is safe for you to cross the River of Enchantment.’
‘Well, don’t get too far ahead, will you?’
Aragorn returned no reply, instead skirting the wagon and signalling to the twins to slow the horses. He crossed in safety, reining in as Govon made his presence known. Across the river, the rest of the band of elves blocked the retreat; indeed, there was no room for the wagon to turn on the bridge anyway.
Trusting Elrond’s eyesight was still appallingly fogged for anything other than the gold, Aragorn raised his hand to signal the wagon to stop.
‘My lord Elrond,’ he called out. ‘The way is blocked; it is passable on foot, or horse, but not for the wagon and...’
At this point in proceedings, Govon drew his bow and, for the look of things, nocked an arrow.
‘Halt!’ he shouted, his voice sounding stilted, rehearsed. ‘Get down from your seats, mellyn-nin, or live to regret it. But not for long...’
‘Is that the best you can do?’ Aragorn hissed. ‘You were much more threatening when you held up poor Lady Cullasbes last week!’
‘That was for real. And she had it coming. And...’
‘What is going on?’ Elrond demanded, peering out from the wagon.
‘We seem to have been waylaid by bandits,’ Elladan said, springing down from his seat.
‘And the Sherriff of Dúnedain has been captured,’ Elrohir added. ‘Alack.’
‘Well, do something!’ Elrond shouted, frantically feeling around him in the bed of the wagon for weapons; all he had on him was his sword. ‘Have you no bows? Shoot at them!’
‘Adar, you said bows were the weapons of the brigand and the poacher and the enemy and we should be above such things...’
With a strangled shout, Elrond snatched up the casket of treasure, lugging it after him as he struggled out of the wagon at the back. Half-blinded as he was, still the gold whispered to him and he knew instinctively his retreat was cut off and advancing would bring him only into more danger.
‘Well, help me, you two!’ he yelled, and even as the twins, with a careful glance at Govon Hood, began to edge towards their struggling father, he balanced the casket on the low parapet of the bridge, made a decision, and threw himself, and the tainted dragon gold, into the slurring waters beneath.
Everyone rushed to the bridge and peered over the side where Elrond splashed and then was still.
‘What part of ‘River of Enchantment’ did he not understand, do you think?’ Govon asked. ‘And has anybody got a boathook...?’
*
Elrond woke with a blistering headache and a strange sense of dislocation. Beneath him was softness, around him warmth. A cool hand rested on his forehead for a moment.
‘Easy, Adar... ‘
‘Arwen?’
‘Yes, Ada, it is I.’
The hand moved to clasp his, and Elrond struggled to open his eyes and sit up. He was in a bright chamber, sunlight streaming in through the casement window, the bedding around him was crisp and fresh and his headache began to subside a little.
‘I was having the most peculiar dreams...’ he whispered in a scratchy voice.
Arwen retrieved her hand to pour him some water.
‘Drink up, Adar. You have been asleep for days, and although we have managed to get you to take some water while you slept, you need more.’
Elrond realised he was very thirsty indeed and drank gratefully.
‘But where is this place? It is not Imladris...’
‘You really do not remember?’ Arwen sighed. ‘Perhaps that is just as well.’
‘I dreamed... there was some gold... it was... very important, and... Glorfindel, dressed as a female...? Except I didn’t notice at the time... why was that...?’
‘You have been ill, Ada. You were poisoned by the gold Dain brought you, and then you fell into the Enchanted River, and it made you sleep.’
‘It also washed the curse from the gold,’ another voice said. ‘So that you should be clear of it now.’
‘Legolas? What has been going on?’
The prince opened his mouth to begin the story, and then stopped himself.’
‘You weren’t yourself,’ he said. ‘Let’s leave it at that, shall we?’
‘But... Dain? Poisoned gold?’
‘Dragon gold, and therefore cursed.’
‘He has written to us, having heard of the trouble you caused under its influence, Ada.’
‘Me?’
‘You taxed all the villagers, you banished all Thranduil’s warriors, you threw Legolas into prison and you were really quite beastly to me!’ Arwen said. ‘In his letter, Dain said he is very sorry, but he knew one way to lift the curse would be to pass it on to someone who was immune. He never thought your human heritage would make you susceptible.’
‘At least, that is what he says,’ Legolas said doubtfully. ‘When he brought similar gold to us, he was very persuasive... luckily my Adar is good at saying ‘no’ to people.’
‘What happened to the gold? No, I am not in its thrall in any way, I do not need gold, but it might be useful if I have... perhaps... made a nuisance of myself...’
‘The coins spilled from the coffer and were washed clean in the river. Some have begun to work their way down the stream, and fishing for them has become a new pastime. But there are a few little things to sort out... when you’re feeling better... and my father gets home.’ Legolas grinned. ‘I must admit, I’m rather looking forward to that.’
*
News came that Thranduil and his entourage had entered the forest and were due home in a day or so. Legolas passed the word to Govon, now reinstated as chief of the castle guards.
‘It’s a shame it’s over, in a way,’ Govon said. ‘We enjoyed living in the Greenwood, just us amongst the trees. We really should do it more often. And being Govon Hood with a band of merry elves... it was fun. More natural somehow. Still, all things change.’
‘Do you know, I don’t think I ever heard Lindir a-Dale’s song? Not in full.’
‘I do wish you hadn’t said that while he was in earshot,’ Govon muttered, for Lindir was looking hopeful and tuning up his lute...
‘Just once won’t hurt,’ Legolas grinned. ‘Lindir – whenever you are ready...’
‘Govon Hood, Govon Hood, rides through glades and dells,
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, with his Merry Elves,
Feared by the bad
And loved by the good...
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, Govon Hood...’
‘Lindir, that is excellent!’ Legolas exclaimed. ‘I like that, it is catchy and...’
‘Second verse,’ Lindir said.
‘Second verse...?’
‘He gathered some fine archers to a tavern on the green
They vowed to help the people of the king
They handled all the troubles in the Greenwood Forest scene
And still found plenty of time to sing...’
‘All right, Lindir, that was lovely, but...’
‘Govon Hood, Govon Hood, riding through the glen
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, in Eryn Lasgalen
When Elrond went bad
He did what he could
Govon Hood, Govon Hood, Govon Hood...’
‘Lindir, thank you, but...’
‘Oh, but there is more, lots more...’
Legolas went across to Lindir and patted his shoulder.
‘How much more?’
‘Just four more verses.’
‘Four...?’
‘And the chorus for after each verse, of course.’
‘Of course, Lindir... maybe you had better save it for when my Adar gets home. After the feast.’
‘Oh, that is a good idea... I may even be able to think of some more verses, too... but I will need to practice...’
‘Well, why do you not go and sit with Elrond? He has been asking what happened while he was... under the influence. This might be an excellent way for him to find out, while you practice.’
Lindir nodded and got to his feet, hastening off to Elrond’s convalescent chamber, another verse of ‘Govon Hood’ already beginning to shape itself in his fertile mind.
Govon shook his head.
‘What your father will say when he comes back...’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Legolas grinned. ‘He’ll probably be delighted that Elrond proved himself only half-human, after all...’
‘Well, if you will excuse me, my prince, I should oversee our weapons practice.’
‘And I have had a complaint that not all the merry elves were eager to give back their Males Marian costumes...’
Govon shook his head.
‘Sometimes I really worry about Glorfindel,’ he said.
A/N: Original theme tune words and lyrics from ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’ by Carl Sigman.
Characters repurposed:
Robin Hood; Prince (later King) John; Richard the Lionheart; Friar Tuck; Will Scarlett; Little John
Alan a-Dale; Much the Millar’s Son; Will Stutly; David of Doncaster; Arthur a Bland
Gilbert of the White Hand (the name not used)
Maid Marian (see Wikipedia for Marian’s roles in the legend