Post by Admin on Jan 8, 2021 2:49:36 GMT
Author: LegolasLover2003
When I was a child, I often wondered things which made little sense to those around me.
Why could Elves not fly when a bird could also walk along the ground?
Why could Elves not breathe the water when a fish could also swim?
Why were Elves the only one of Eru's creation in Middle-earth who were immortal?
But there was one day in particular that I recall asking a question of my father that would forever make me wonder about our kindred, the line of my grandfather, and my own power.
That question was simple...
Why was my father, Thranduil the Elvenking, the only Ruler of an Elven Kingdom in all of Middle-earth who possessed not a Ring of Power?
“Three Rings were given to the Elves; wisest and fairest of all beings, seven to the Dwarf Lords; great craftsmen of the mountain halls, and five... five Rings were gifted to the race of Men; who above all else, desire power.”
“Power...”
Blue eyes looked up, focusing on the Elf who sat just across the large library table. “Did you say something, Legolas?”
The blond sighed, “Nothing...”
“Come now,” Legede continued, setting down his book and leveling the prince with a stare that seemed to be half an order in and of itself. “It is not like you to speak aloud while you read. Did you find something to which you have a question, or...”
Legolas put his own book aside, standing from the table. The prince wasn't quite old enough to be considered an adult yet, whereas it was still difficult to call the young Elf an Elfling either. That frustrating time shortly before one's coming of age... where Legolas knew how to fight and could already out shoot some of the older archers in the kingdom... Blond hair hung freely without the braids of a warrior and as the prince turned to stare into the library's grand fire, he finally spoke.
“Why was ada not gifted a Ring of Power?”
Not quite the question which the Mirkwood Captain had expected... and perhaps not even one he had the ability to answer either.
Legede frowned slightly, “That was never my place to know, Legolas. Surely this is a question better suited for your father?”
Scoffing at the notion, the young Elf turned back to his friend. “You were my grandfather's captain, Legede. You were and still are my father's captain and closest friend. Can you honestly give no answer?”
It took some time once more for the white haired Elf to speak. So long in fact that the prince thought perhaps Legede to have dismissed the question entirely and simply refused to answer. When Legolas felt as if his frustration could wait no longer however... his friend's voice broke the silence.
“Hatred, caun Legolas. Fear, perhaps as well. Such things have no place in the hearts of the Eldar... no place in the bearer of a Ring of Power. Oropher found that he held no love of many philosophies of the Noldor and so he and his Sindar kindred traveled northward. Many of our kindred saw this as hatred... some as a fearful act. Eventually, your grandfather and his people ended up settling here in this wood and constructing halls that were reminiscent of those of Thingol and merging his people with the Silvan folk. Your own mother, Legolas, was Silvan, as am I, and there are some who thought this decision to be foolish and... well from some accounts, barbaric. Oropher pushed back on the things which many of our kindred in the other realms held dear. Our people have never been craftsmen though we have gotten by for centuries on our own and so those of Imladris and Lothlorien and even the Grey Havens have thought our creations rustic and quaint and far from upholding of the standard of the First Born.”
The prince's blue gaze narrowed as he listened, “And this is why grandfather was never given a Ring of Power? Because we are seen as inferior? Because they felt his desire to build up a kingdom to be an act of hatred or fear toward the Firstborn he parted ways from?”
When Legede nodded, the young Elf laughed. “That is absurd! Ada is more than qualified to wield such power. He fears nothing.” and while the prince knew his father held no love of Dwarves or Men or the other Elves of Middle-earth... he could not bring himself to call such a dislike, hatred. “How can they judge who is worthy and who is...”
“That is enough, my son.”
Both sets of blue eyes turned to see the Elvenking himself standing in the doorway. Neither had heard Thranduil's coming, though one could hardly be surprised. No novice to stealth nor the ways of battle, the king's ability to appear when Legolas least expected, or wanted him to, never ceased to amaze the young Elf.
Swiftly the prince walked forward, “Ada, is this true? Were you denied this power because we are Silvan? Because of some notion that daer-ada was afraid or bore a strong hatred?”
For a moment, Thranduil merely smiled. “I am Sindarin... as are you, my son. Well, half of you. And you should know better than to think Oropher afraid or an Elf who bore great hatred. Besides, why would I, why would we of this kingdom, have wanted a Ring of Power? All those trinkets have done is glitter and enslave the lesser races. Those who posses them can no more protect their realm with their ring's might than I can this woodland realm with my own heirloom.” he held up his hand, a beautifully crafted golden spiral of a ring in the shape of a small and yet harmless grass serpent adorning one finger. “Rather that I hold this ring than any forged by Sauron's might and darkness nor by any craft he passed to the Firstborn. Such weapons only attract those who revel in the shadow of our enemies and share in Morgoth's hatred of all that is good in this world.”
“But, ada... our own realm lies in the shadow of evil. Places are overrun by the foul spawn of Ungoliant herself. Surely a Ring of Power could...”
“No.” Thranduil spoke sternly, placing a hand on his young son's shoulder. “Such things have never brought happiness to the Elves, Legolas. It is by our own strength... our own might... that this realm stands alone. That...” his hand moved gently, palm placed just over the prince's heart. “And the power held here, within, maintains our kingdom. You, my son, hold the same key as I... the same key as your grandfather before us... to keep this realm safe from the encroaching shadow. It is not made of gold or silver nor of fine jewels, steel, or mithril. We do not hold a jeweled ring that lets us bend the wills of the world nor see that which should not be seen. Our key, our power... It is in our blood. It is the jewel of your heart. It is who we are, ion nin.”
Legolas shook his head, placing one hand over his father's own. “I do not understand, ada. What power do we have? All I can do is open the front gate...”
“Do you not see what power lies in that alone?” Legede asked, standing from the table and walking forward to stand at the young Elf's side. “What keeps the people safe is that magic, Legolas. A gift only given to the line of Oropher and to no others.”
“It is but a door...” the prince replied, rolling his eyes and looking to the captain as if he were exaggerating such a feat. “How can a door...”
Walking around Legolas, Thranduil placed his hands on his son's shoulders. “Look before you.” he spoke softly, indicating the library doors. “If those were closed, what then?”
“Well, we would be shut inside the library of course.”
Legede smirked slightly, “And if some foul beast beat upon those doors?”
“It would not get in, at least I doubt it could. Those doors would be sealed up tightly if such a thing roamed the halls.”
The Elvenking squeezed his son's shoulders lightly, “And thus you would feel safe from the beast beyond. You would know it were there, but you would not worry about it breaking in.”
“Such is your power, caun nin. Such is hir Thranduil's power. No ring has ever, nor will ever, be needed.” Legede replied as he went to pick up the now forgotten books. “The line of Oropher keeps the people safe. Allows them to sleep in their beds at night and not worry about the fell creatures which may lurk upon the doorstep. This power brings the people peace, Legolas.”
The Elvenking nodded, “We keep our people safe. That is all I could ask for. That is the only power I could ever hope for, could ever want. I learned long ago what the look of fear... what the expression of terror on the faces of the innocent looks like. I do not wish to see it again. And I need not a Ring of Power to set our kindred's hearts at ease.”
A sigh escaped Legolas however and he turned, looking up into his father's eyes. “You are still worthy of such a Ring, ada. Our people are not inferior... nor are you.”
Thranduil smiled, pulling his son close and gently kissing the top of Legolas' head. “Hannon le, tithen Greenleaf. Hannon le.”
That day I learned why the line of Oropher held not such an emblem of might... and years later, centuries even, I met a young human, a man to be specific, who held no Ring of Power either, though I have always believed that he would have been worthy of bearing it's burden. He learned better than most what such an object could do to the heart... and he taught me that there were Rings of Power not forged in Eregion that existed.
Rings that brought hope to the people and that gave peace to those in turmoil.
Rings that gave no true power aside from that which resided in the heart of the bearer himself.
These days, these healing days after Sauron's fall, I wear my father's heirloom ring proudly, for many of my people have traveled far south to dwell in a new kingdom of my own creation. Ada still rules within the Elvenking's Halls of the newly christened Eryn Lasgalen and our kin remain ever at peace under Thranduil's rule. But... ada felt that here, in Ithilien, I might need a reminder of home... a reminder of the power which the line of Oropher posses. This ring, while it is no Barahir like that which Estel and the line of men hold dear, is a precious heirloom to me now, just as it has been to my own father. It hold's no true power nor does it bear any glittering jewels in it's design. This ring is but a symbol, passed down through the line of Oropher... a symbol to remind it's bearer of true power.
Forever will I cherish this power, my power, the jewel of my heart.
-Legolas Thranduilion
THE END
Words To Know:
Ada = Father
Daer-ada = Grandfather
Caun = Prince
Hir = Lord
Caun nin = My prince
Hannon le = Thank you
Tithen = Little
Thranduilion = Son of Thranduil
Author's Note:
- The italicized portion after the story title and just before Legolas says “Power” is obviously one of the LOTR movie opening lines by Galadriel.
- The ring which Thranduil wears is the one which he bears in the movie version of “The Hobbit” (part 1 obviously). I find that it's serpent design is... funny to me. Since Barahir is a serpent design as well, though it is inlaid with jewels and not gold. So I figured another serpent ring could function as a hope bringer just like Barahir does, only for the Mirkwood Elves.
- Legede is an OC. You can use him if you want to, but ask first. If you need a mental image of him, think looks akin to film Haldir, only with white hair. Keep in mind when I visualize characters, they look like their movie counterparts. I realize that in “The Hobbit”, Thranduil's captain is going to be a woman but oh well, I can play in the world of books much better than in film anyway. Besides... her presences disturbs me... -distrusting eyes fearing a Legolas love interest is afoot-
When I was a child, I often wondered things which made little sense to those around me.
Why could Elves not fly when a bird could also walk along the ground?
Why could Elves not breathe the water when a fish could also swim?
Why were Elves the only one of Eru's creation in Middle-earth who were immortal?
But there was one day in particular that I recall asking a question of my father that would forever make me wonder about our kindred, the line of my grandfather, and my own power.
That question was simple...
Why was my father, Thranduil the Elvenking, the only Ruler of an Elven Kingdom in all of Middle-earth who possessed not a Ring of Power?
A Power Which Does Not Reside In Golden Rings Nor Jewels Fit For Kings
or
The Jewel of the Heart
or
The Jewel of the Heart
“Three Rings were given to the Elves; wisest and fairest of all beings, seven to the Dwarf Lords; great craftsmen of the mountain halls, and five... five Rings were gifted to the race of Men; who above all else, desire power.”
“Power...”
Blue eyes looked up, focusing on the Elf who sat just across the large library table. “Did you say something, Legolas?”
The blond sighed, “Nothing...”
“Come now,” Legede continued, setting down his book and leveling the prince with a stare that seemed to be half an order in and of itself. “It is not like you to speak aloud while you read. Did you find something to which you have a question, or...”
Legolas put his own book aside, standing from the table. The prince wasn't quite old enough to be considered an adult yet, whereas it was still difficult to call the young Elf an Elfling either. That frustrating time shortly before one's coming of age... where Legolas knew how to fight and could already out shoot some of the older archers in the kingdom... Blond hair hung freely without the braids of a warrior and as the prince turned to stare into the library's grand fire, he finally spoke.
“Why was ada not gifted a Ring of Power?”
Not quite the question which the Mirkwood Captain had expected... and perhaps not even one he had the ability to answer either.
Legede frowned slightly, “That was never my place to know, Legolas. Surely this is a question better suited for your father?”
Scoffing at the notion, the young Elf turned back to his friend. “You were my grandfather's captain, Legede. You were and still are my father's captain and closest friend. Can you honestly give no answer?”
It took some time once more for the white haired Elf to speak. So long in fact that the prince thought perhaps Legede to have dismissed the question entirely and simply refused to answer. When Legolas felt as if his frustration could wait no longer however... his friend's voice broke the silence.
“Hatred, caun Legolas. Fear, perhaps as well. Such things have no place in the hearts of the Eldar... no place in the bearer of a Ring of Power. Oropher found that he held no love of many philosophies of the Noldor and so he and his Sindar kindred traveled northward. Many of our kindred saw this as hatred... some as a fearful act. Eventually, your grandfather and his people ended up settling here in this wood and constructing halls that were reminiscent of those of Thingol and merging his people with the Silvan folk. Your own mother, Legolas, was Silvan, as am I, and there are some who thought this decision to be foolish and... well from some accounts, barbaric. Oropher pushed back on the things which many of our kindred in the other realms held dear. Our people have never been craftsmen though we have gotten by for centuries on our own and so those of Imladris and Lothlorien and even the Grey Havens have thought our creations rustic and quaint and far from upholding of the standard of the First Born.”
The prince's blue gaze narrowed as he listened, “And this is why grandfather was never given a Ring of Power? Because we are seen as inferior? Because they felt his desire to build up a kingdom to be an act of hatred or fear toward the Firstborn he parted ways from?”
When Legede nodded, the young Elf laughed. “That is absurd! Ada is more than qualified to wield such power. He fears nothing.” and while the prince knew his father held no love of Dwarves or Men or the other Elves of Middle-earth... he could not bring himself to call such a dislike, hatred. “How can they judge who is worthy and who is...”
“That is enough, my son.”
Both sets of blue eyes turned to see the Elvenking himself standing in the doorway. Neither had heard Thranduil's coming, though one could hardly be surprised. No novice to stealth nor the ways of battle, the king's ability to appear when Legolas least expected, or wanted him to, never ceased to amaze the young Elf.
Swiftly the prince walked forward, “Ada, is this true? Were you denied this power because we are Silvan? Because of some notion that daer-ada was afraid or bore a strong hatred?”
For a moment, Thranduil merely smiled. “I am Sindarin... as are you, my son. Well, half of you. And you should know better than to think Oropher afraid or an Elf who bore great hatred. Besides, why would I, why would we of this kingdom, have wanted a Ring of Power? All those trinkets have done is glitter and enslave the lesser races. Those who posses them can no more protect their realm with their ring's might than I can this woodland realm with my own heirloom.” he held up his hand, a beautifully crafted golden spiral of a ring in the shape of a small and yet harmless grass serpent adorning one finger. “Rather that I hold this ring than any forged by Sauron's might and darkness nor by any craft he passed to the Firstborn. Such weapons only attract those who revel in the shadow of our enemies and share in Morgoth's hatred of all that is good in this world.”
“But, ada... our own realm lies in the shadow of evil. Places are overrun by the foul spawn of Ungoliant herself. Surely a Ring of Power could...”
“No.” Thranduil spoke sternly, placing a hand on his young son's shoulder. “Such things have never brought happiness to the Elves, Legolas. It is by our own strength... our own might... that this realm stands alone. That...” his hand moved gently, palm placed just over the prince's heart. “And the power held here, within, maintains our kingdom. You, my son, hold the same key as I... the same key as your grandfather before us... to keep this realm safe from the encroaching shadow. It is not made of gold or silver nor of fine jewels, steel, or mithril. We do not hold a jeweled ring that lets us bend the wills of the world nor see that which should not be seen. Our key, our power... It is in our blood. It is the jewel of your heart. It is who we are, ion nin.”
Legolas shook his head, placing one hand over his father's own. “I do not understand, ada. What power do we have? All I can do is open the front gate...”
“Do you not see what power lies in that alone?” Legede asked, standing from the table and walking forward to stand at the young Elf's side. “What keeps the people safe is that magic, Legolas. A gift only given to the line of Oropher and to no others.”
“It is but a door...” the prince replied, rolling his eyes and looking to the captain as if he were exaggerating such a feat. “How can a door...”
Walking around Legolas, Thranduil placed his hands on his son's shoulders. “Look before you.” he spoke softly, indicating the library doors. “If those were closed, what then?”
“Well, we would be shut inside the library of course.”
Legede smirked slightly, “And if some foul beast beat upon those doors?”
“It would not get in, at least I doubt it could. Those doors would be sealed up tightly if such a thing roamed the halls.”
The Elvenking squeezed his son's shoulders lightly, “And thus you would feel safe from the beast beyond. You would know it were there, but you would not worry about it breaking in.”
“Such is your power, caun nin. Such is hir Thranduil's power. No ring has ever, nor will ever, be needed.” Legede replied as he went to pick up the now forgotten books. “The line of Oropher keeps the people safe. Allows them to sleep in their beds at night and not worry about the fell creatures which may lurk upon the doorstep. This power brings the people peace, Legolas.”
The Elvenking nodded, “We keep our people safe. That is all I could ask for. That is the only power I could ever hope for, could ever want. I learned long ago what the look of fear... what the expression of terror on the faces of the innocent looks like. I do not wish to see it again. And I need not a Ring of Power to set our kindred's hearts at ease.”
A sigh escaped Legolas however and he turned, looking up into his father's eyes. “You are still worthy of such a Ring, ada. Our people are not inferior... nor are you.”
Thranduil smiled, pulling his son close and gently kissing the top of Legolas' head. “Hannon le, tithen Greenleaf. Hannon le.”
That day I learned why the line of Oropher held not such an emblem of might... and years later, centuries even, I met a young human, a man to be specific, who held no Ring of Power either, though I have always believed that he would have been worthy of bearing it's burden. He learned better than most what such an object could do to the heart... and he taught me that there were Rings of Power not forged in Eregion that existed.
Rings that brought hope to the people and that gave peace to those in turmoil.
Rings that gave no true power aside from that which resided in the heart of the bearer himself.
These days, these healing days after Sauron's fall, I wear my father's heirloom ring proudly, for many of my people have traveled far south to dwell in a new kingdom of my own creation. Ada still rules within the Elvenking's Halls of the newly christened Eryn Lasgalen and our kin remain ever at peace under Thranduil's rule. But... ada felt that here, in Ithilien, I might need a reminder of home... a reminder of the power which the line of Oropher posses. This ring, while it is no Barahir like that which Estel and the line of men hold dear, is a precious heirloom to me now, just as it has been to my own father. It hold's no true power nor does it bear any glittering jewels in it's design. This ring is but a symbol, passed down through the line of Oropher... a symbol to remind it's bearer of true power.
Forever will I cherish this power, my power, the jewel of my heart.
-Legolas Thranduilion
THE END
Words To Know:
Ada = Father
Daer-ada = Grandfather
Caun = Prince
Hir = Lord
Caun nin = My prince
Hannon le = Thank you
Tithen = Little
Thranduilion = Son of Thranduil
Author's Note:
- The italicized portion after the story title and just before Legolas says “Power” is obviously one of the LOTR movie opening lines by Galadriel.
- The ring which Thranduil wears is the one which he bears in the movie version of “The Hobbit” (part 1 obviously). I find that it's serpent design is... funny to me. Since Barahir is a serpent design as well, though it is inlaid with jewels and not gold. So I figured another serpent ring could function as a hope bringer just like Barahir does, only for the Mirkwood Elves.
- Legede is an OC. You can use him if you want to, but ask first. If you need a mental image of him, think looks akin to film Haldir, only with white hair. Keep in mind when I visualize characters, they look like their movie counterparts. I realize that in “The Hobbit”, Thranduil's captain is going to be a woman but oh well, I can play in the world of books much better than in film anyway. Besides... her presences disturbs me... -distrusting eyes fearing a Legolas love interest is afoot-