Post by Admin on Jan 1, 2021 16:51:13 GMT
Author: LegolasLover2003
Category: Book - “The Lord of the Rings”
Genre: General
Rating: E
"Makk aln ha'ak!"
Legolas blinked, glancing over at his companion and wondering, not for the first time, exactly why the Ranger had deigned to follow him out into the blizzard in the first place. The snow was already four feet deep in some places, which... well actually amused the Elf to no end... as suddenly half of the man beside him disappeared into a blanket of white.
"Estel, you could have remained behind. My father's halls are quite warm this time of the year and there are many festivities you could have..."
But before the Elven prince could finish, the Ranger interrupted him. "And be stuck in passing conversation with your father... alone? No thank you. Besides, why are you insisting on trudging through the snow at this hour anyway?" he asked, trying to pull himself out of the snow drift.
Legolas went silent, looking back out into the blizzard on the edge of Mirkwood's treeline. His blue eyes seemed to gaze far off and for a time there was but the whine of the wind and the crunch of snow as the Ranger moved.
Flakes seemed to land upon the Elf's eyelashes as he peered far away... and when he finally blinked, melting the tiny ice crystals, he was looking back at Aragorn.
"There is simply something I must check on. I do so every year when I am home. It would be rude not to." he spoke, walking away, his light boots miraculously not even causing a tiny indention upon the snow.
Aragorn cursed again and Legolas smirked, having heard something about the fleetfootedness of Elves and their ability to walk on top of snow. Again he heard the sounds of the human pushing his way through the drift until finally, it seemed, Aragorn had figured out a better path with a little less resistence.
"If you are troubled or cold, Estel, you can always..."
"No." Aragorn cut him off, not wanting to hear that he should go back... again... for perhaps the tenth time. "I want to know what has your bowstring in a knot. These are hardly conditions one should take a stroll in."
Legolas nodded, making a slight humming sound as he debated what to say. "Well..." he began, moving to his left just enough to step onto a more rocky path. This was, after all, an area he knew by heart. "At least, under these conditions, no spider nor orc would think of attacking us. Besides, the cold only bothers you..."
"Yes yes I know. 'Tis something you and my brothers deem worthy to remind me of every winter. That still does not answer my question." Aragorn continued, jerking on the edge of his cloak to pull it a bit tighter around himself.
Again Legolas paused before turning to the man. "Then stop dawdling and follow me. Otherwise I shall leave you behind and you can figure out just what it is on your own." he said with a wink, as he walked backwards along the path, watching his friend.
Aragorn's eyes narrowed and he sighed. "Fine. Lead on."
The pair walked, or trudged, in silence for a few hours until Legolas suddenly, and rather abruptly, came to a halt. With Aragorn a few long paces behind him, it was the Elf who started to make camp.
"What are..."
"It will be dark soon." Legolas spoke, his lithe fingers buried deep in the snow as he started to dig. When Aragorn moved to help, the prince stopped him. "Let me. Your fingers might freeze." he teased, continuing to push away the snow.
After about ten minutes, Legolas had piled the snow up high around them, leaving a carefully thought out opening in the side towards the treeline. It would block the wind and keep them relatively warm... especially when Legolas started to make a fire.
"Your hands need..." but again, Aragorn's words were cut short and Legolas was simply shaking his head.
"I do this every year. Remember? My fingers have not yet fallen off nor turned some ghastly shade of purple or blue... least ways not yet." he replied, piling up sticks that had fallen to the ground in the forest. They were relatively dry, thanks to Mirkwood's thick canopy. The Elf lit them with a bit of flint from his quiver and proceeded to coax a rather warm fire from the lot.
Sighing, Aragorn sat down on the ground that was mostly devoid of snow now, huddled in his cloak. Legolas came and sat beside him, the Elf using his body to block any wind which happened to get into their small shelter.
"Going to tell me why you are out here yet?" Aragorn asked, his grey eyes glancing at the prince.
But Legolas shook his head. "Tomorrow, you will see. If all is well, then we will return south to the palace. If not... well... we shall return anyway, but with news." he replied, letting his fingers warm by the fire.
Luckily the Ranger had not frozen overnight. There was certainly something to be said for the ingenuity that went into the man's cloak... but also to be said of the ice cave of sorts which Legolas had provided them. With the fire covered in snow, the pair set out again, walking along the tree line.
The blizzard had passed during the night, though it still snowed. Silence was all that greeted them, save the crunch of the Ranger's boots.
Aragorn had been about to ask a question, then Legolas' hand stopped him. He went still, crouching down slightly to almost mirror the pose of the Elf in front. They stayed that way for a few moments, their senses tuned outward.
When it seemed safe, Legolas pressed forward. Beyond the horizon loomed dangerous mountains and, for the first time, Aragorn laid eyes on something he had not beheld before...
The Ered Mithrin, standing tall north of Mirkwood's mighty forest.
Aragorn had been to the Ettenmoors of course, but the Misty Mountains blocked any view of these spectacular peaks. The blizzard too had obscured them from his gaze the day before. Taking the Old Forest Road had always been Aragorn's preferred method of venturing to the Elvenking's Halls or beyond... so he had never been to the north of this Elven forest before.
"Why are we here, Legolas?" the man asked, glancing over to find that his partner had traveled on without him!
Hurrying through the snow, Aragorn came to a sudden stop when he saw the Elf... who was kneeling before a large yet beautiful statue of an Elven maiden.
"Legolas?" he whispered, stopping a few feet away and gazing upon the carving.
It was pure white marble. Each detail stunning to behold... so perfect... so soft... as if you could reach out and touch it and it would come to life before you. But as he looked on longer... Aragorn began to realize that the statue, an Elven maiden, was wearing armor beneath beautifully falling robes of quality make. There was a circlet set upon her brow. In one hand was a dagger, much like the twin pair which the Elven prince was known to weild... and in her other hand a lantern.
Quite literally a lantern!
Crafted into the statue the lantern was burning, it's light cast upon the white snow even in day.
"Legolas... where are we?"
For a moment, the archer said nothing. Then he raised his head, looking up at the statue. "Unad nuithatha i nîr e-guren nalú aderthad vín." Legolas spoke, indicating the base of the statue where the words were carved in beautifully scripted Elvish. "'Tis a grave, though no body rests here."
Aragorn was a bit taken aback at hearing those words and his grey eyes scanned the statue further. "It was not you who wrote them... was it?" he whispered, realizing now just what such was.
Legolas stood, brushing the snowflakes from his leggings. "A lantern to guide those lost in the white cold of winter... and to be a small flame to keep the chill at bay. Looking ever north... as if to hold back the tide of frost and the darkness which came from those hills long ago... She is a light of hope to those who travel and, as I do in winter, I have come to see that her lantern still burns bright... that the vines and weathering of the ages have not marred her beauty."
"She was your mother." Aragorn said softly, understanding now why his friend was so adamant about heading out into the storm.
Legolas smiled sadly. "Yes. And the words were written by my father, not me. This statue was placed here, for she fell in the northern wood. It is a reminder to all who pass... and, perhaps, help to those who need it in the darkest of a bitter cold night."
The prince moved forward, plucking a dead vine from the shoulder and arm of the statue... a tiny plant which had tried to grow ever closer to the lantern's light in hopes of surviving the frost. He tossed it aside before looking back to Aragorn.
"Well. It is here and unmarred and certainly not hidden from the sight of those who might need to seek it. I suppose we can return home and..."
Turning, Legolas spied Aragorn giving a very deep bow to the statue... followed by a gesture of farewell. It made the prince pause, his heart beating a bit faster and his eyes sting in the winter wind. Moving back down the path, his boots silent, the blond said nothing save wipe a tear from his eye.
Aragorn followed soon after, catching up to his companion and putting a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "'Tis a good thing you do. To honor her and her memory."
"With my father's position, he can not make the journey here... and certainly not in solitude as he would wish. I... well... I typically spend time before the statue, recounting the happenings of my family... as if she could hear them from those distant shores but..."
The man sighed, "But I ruined that by following you out here."
Legolas shrugged. "I am actually glad for the company... for once." His blue gaze flicked to the man at his side, "Besides... now you know. I have met your mother and... now you have met mine." he said with a grin.
"Yes well... mine was in a garden. Yours is in a blizzard. I think I would rather spend time in a garden than the snow." the man retorted.
"Only because you lack the ability to..."
Rolling his eyes, Aragorn sighed. "I know... I know... must you always remind me?"
This, of course, only caused the Elf to laugh all the harder.
The End
Dwarven Translations:
Makk aln ha'ak! = Son of a bitch (female dog)!
Elvish Translations:
Calad vi Rhîw = Light in Winter
Unad nuithatha i nîr e-guren nalú aderthad vín. = Nothing will stop the weeping of my heart until our reunion.
Category: Book - “The Lord of the Rings”
Genre: General
Rating: E
"Makk aln ha'ak!"
Legolas blinked, glancing over at his companion and wondering, not for the first time, exactly why the Ranger had deigned to follow him out into the blizzard in the first place. The snow was already four feet deep in some places, which... well actually amused the Elf to no end... as suddenly half of the man beside him disappeared into a blanket of white.
"Estel, you could have remained behind. My father's halls are quite warm this time of the year and there are many festivities you could have..."
But before the Elven prince could finish, the Ranger interrupted him. "And be stuck in passing conversation with your father... alone? No thank you. Besides, why are you insisting on trudging through the snow at this hour anyway?" he asked, trying to pull himself out of the snow drift.
Legolas went silent, looking back out into the blizzard on the edge of Mirkwood's treeline. His blue eyes seemed to gaze far off and for a time there was but the whine of the wind and the crunch of snow as the Ranger moved.
Flakes seemed to land upon the Elf's eyelashes as he peered far away... and when he finally blinked, melting the tiny ice crystals, he was looking back at Aragorn.
"There is simply something I must check on. I do so every year when I am home. It would be rude not to." he spoke, walking away, his light boots miraculously not even causing a tiny indention upon the snow.
Aragorn cursed again and Legolas smirked, having heard something about the fleetfootedness of Elves and their ability to walk on top of snow. Again he heard the sounds of the human pushing his way through the drift until finally, it seemed, Aragorn had figured out a better path with a little less resistence.
"If you are troubled or cold, Estel, you can always..."
"No." Aragorn cut him off, not wanting to hear that he should go back... again... for perhaps the tenth time. "I want to know what has your bowstring in a knot. These are hardly conditions one should take a stroll in."
Legolas nodded, making a slight humming sound as he debated what to say. "Well..." he began, moving to his left just enough to step onto a more rocky path. This was, after all, an area he knew by heart. "At least, under these conditions, no spider nor orc would think of attacking us. Besides, the cold only bothers you..."
"Yes yes I know. 'Tis something you and my brothers deem worthy to remind me of every winter. That still does not answer my question." Aragorn continued, jerking on the edge of his cloak to pull it a bit tighter around himself.
Again Legolas paused before turning to the man. "Then stop dawdling and follow me. Otherwise I shall leave you behind and you can figure out just what it is on your own." he said with a wink, as he walked backwards along the path, watching his friend.
Aragorn's eyes narrowed and he sighed. "Fine. Lead on."
The pair walked, or trudged, in silence for a few hours until Legolas suddenly, and rather abruptly, came to a halt. With Aragorn a few long paces behind him, it was the Elf who started to make camp.
"What are..."
"It will be dark soon." Legolas spoke, his lithe fingers buried deep in the snow as he started to dig. When Aragorn moved to help, the prince stopped him. "Let me. Your fingers might freeze." he teased, continuing to push away the snow.
After about ten minutes, Legolas had piled the snow up high around them, leaving a carefully thought out opening in the side towards the treeline. It would block the wind and keep them relatively warm... especially when Legolas started to make a fire.
"Your hands need..." but again, Aragorn's words were cut short and Legolas was simply shaking his head.
"I do this every year. Remember? My fingers have not yet fallen off nor turned some ghastly shade of purple or blue... least ways not yet." he replied, piling up sticks that had fallen to the ground in the forest. They were relatively dry, thanks to Mirkwood's thick canopy. The Elf lit them with a bit of flint from his quiver and proceeded to coax a rather warm fire from the lot.
Sighing, Aragorn sat down on the ground that was mostly devoid of snow now, huddled in his cloak. Legolas came and sat beside him, the Elf using his body to block any wind which happened to get into their small shelter.
"Going to tell me why you are out here yet?" Aragorn asked, his grey eyes glancing at the prince.
But Legolas shook his head. "Tomorrow, you will see. If all is well, then we will return south to the palace. If not... well... we shall return anyway, but with news." he replied, letting his fingers warm by the fire.
Luckily the Ranger had not frozen overnight. There was certainly something to be said for the ingenuity that went into the man's cloak... but also to be said of the ice cave of sorts which Legolas had provided them. With the fire covered in snow, the pair set out again, walking along the tree line.
The blizzard had passed during the night, though it still snowed. Silence was all that greeted them, save the crunch of the Ranger's boots.
Aragorn had been about to ask a question, then Legolas' hand stopped him. He went still, crouching down slightly to almost mirror the pose of the Elf in front. They stayed that way for a few moments, their senses tuned outward.
When it seemed safe, Legolas pressed forward. Beyond the horizon loomed dangerous mountains and, for the first time, Aragorn laid eyes on something he had not beheld before...
The Ered Mithrin, standing tall north of Mirkwood's mighty forest.
Aragorn had been to the Ettenmoors of course, but the Misty Mountains blocked any view of these spectacular peaks. The blizzard too had obscured them from his gaze the day before. Taking the Old Forest Road had always been Aragorn's preferred method of venturing to the Elvenking's Halls or beyond... so he had never been to the north of this Elven forest before.
"Why are we here, Legolas?" the man asked, glancing over to find that his partner had traveled on without him!
Hurrying through the snow, Aragorn came to a sudden stop when he saw the Elf... who was kneeling before a large yet beautiful statue of an Elven maiden.
"Legolas?" he whispered, stopping a few feet away and gazing upon the carving.
It was pure white marble. Each detail stunning to behold... so perfect... so soft... as if you could reach out and touch it and it would come to life before you. But as he looked on longer... Aragorn began to realize that the statue, an Elven maiden, was wearing armor beneath beautifully falling robes of quality make. There was a circlet set upon her brow. In one hand was a dagger, much like the twin pair which the Elven prince was known to weild... and in her other hand a lantern.
Quite literally a lantern!
Crafted into the statue the lantern was burning, it's light cast upon the white snow even in day.
"Legolas... where are we?"
For a moment, the archer said nothing. Then he raised his head, looking up at the statue. "Unad nuithatha i nîr e-guren nalú aderthad vín." Legolas spoke, indicating the base of the statue where the words were carved in beautifully scripted Elvish. "'Tis a grave, though no body rests here."
Aragorn was a bit taken aback at hearing those words and his grey eyes scanned the statue further. "It was not you who wrote them... was it?" he whispered, realizing now just what such was.
Legolas stood, brushing the snowflakes from his leggings. "A lantern to guide those lost in the white cold of winter... and to be a small flame to keep the chill at bay. Looking ever north... as if to hold back the tide of frost and the darkness which came from those hills long ago... She is a light of hope to those who travel and, as I do in winter, I have come to see that her lantern still burns bright... that the vines and weathering of the ages have not marred her beauty."
"She was your mother." Aragorn said softly, understanding now why his friend was so adamant about heading out into the storm.
Legolas smiled sadly. "Yes. And the words were written by my father, not me. This statue was placed here, for she fell in the northern wood. It is a reminder to all who pass... and, perhaps, help to those who need it in the darkest of a bitter cold night."
The prince moved forward, plucking a dead vine from the shoulder and arm of the statue... a tiny plant which had tried to grow ever closer to the lantern's light in hopes of surviving the frost. He tossed it aside before looking back to Aragorn.
"Well. It is here and unmarred and certainly not hidden from the sight of those who might need to seek it. I suppose we can return home and..."
Turning, Legolas spied Aragorn giving a very deep bow to the statue... followed by a gesture of farewell. It made the prince pause, his heart beating a bit faster and his eyes sting in the winter wind. Moving back down the path, his boots silent, the blond said nothing save wipe a tear from his eye.
Aragorn followed soon after, catching up to his companion and putting a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "'Tis a good thing you do. To honor her and her memory."
"With my father's position, he can not make the journey here... and certainly not in solitude as he would wish. I... well... I typically spend time before the statue, recounting the happenings of my family... as if she could hear them from those distant shores but..."
The man sighed, "But I ruined that by following you out here."
Legolas shrugged. "I am actually glad for the company... for once." His blue gaze flicked to the man at his side, "Besides... now you know. I have met your mother and... now you have met mine." he said with a grin.
"Yes well... mine was in a garden. Yours is in a blizzard. I think I would rather spend time in a garden than the snow." the man retorted.
"Only because you lack the ability to..."
Rolling his eyes, Aragorn sighed. "I know... I know... must you always remind me?"
This, of course, only caused the Elf to laugh all the harder.
The End
Dwarven Translations:
Makk aln ha'ak! = Son of a bitch (female dog)!
Elvish Translations:
Calad vi Rhîw = Light in Winter
Unad nuithatha i nîr e-guren nalú aderthad vín. = Nothing will stop the weeping of my heart until our reunion.