My Dream

Written By: sirkatesalot
You Can read the original here

I live in a small town huddled in the Northern Appalachians. The town this time of year, in the summer, is very sultry. The fog hangs over like an invisible cloak. Nobody ever ventures here, nor trespasses. It doesn’t run through a highway or any major routes.

My name is Jo. I go to Hogwarts Wizard Academy. Wizards Academy was founded by L. Trent. I was sitting at the bus stop daydreaming as usual. I did not know why our special private school was founded by someone as random as L. Trent. What did the “L” stand for?

“Why can’t it be founded by someone interesting like the Rolling Stones?” I pondered. L. Trent was really the guy who founded Trenton, New Jersey. Trenton, New Jersey used to be a safe haven for Salem refugees. But how would I know? I don’t pay attention like a cow doesn’t drink its own milk. I pay as much attention as a bat does in morning history class.

But this was just juicy enough to snap me out of my pondering:

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasly were having a friendship fight.

“Ron, you’re not by B.F. F. F. F. anymore.”

“Fine, I’ll just join Slytherin.” The conversation was brisk, without any compromise. Ron was talking with a blond-haired Slytherin with French braids now.

I heard the blonde Slytherin gossip, “I heard witchcraft is going on in this town.”

“Yeah right, Harry said that’s rubbish, but good point; what does he bloody know?” I was still waiting at the bus station for school to start. I usually didn’t like to get in the middle of everybody’s drama. Who knows what damage I could cause? I’m usually the peacemaker when it comes to my own friends’ problems, but witchcraft, oaths, and allegiances especially involving Slytherin was tricky business. Let me tell you just one more thing about myself-I’m separated from the norm. Even in a school as isolated as ours, everybody was alike in supernatural ability. I wanted to stand out from all the rest.

Everyone had pets like owls, toads, and rats, but I was the only pig owner. Squiggles, my pig, had a problem with running off without permission. Farm animals should be easier to train, I thought. Nobody stopped me from spacing out. The neighbors were too caught up in there own dialogue and dilemmas.

Then Squiggles ran across the street! My attention swiveled to Squiggles, as I saw him sniff a spooky, abandoned, and cadet blue home. It was much too plain and the windows and doors were boarded up. I agreed with Squiggles. Something suspicious grew there like the vines trickling out the windows. Could that be where the witch lived? That close to school? Hmm…maybe she/he moved. Maybe a pedophile lived there? I daydreamed again.

Oh yeah, my pig! “Squiggles, come back here!” The hog sniffed under the foundation of the old, Victorian home. I surmised that Squiggles smelled the witch, but a sneaky wolf lurked around the curb. I bolted after my pig, and I flew us safely over the chain-linked fence of our only fancy institution many acres and furlongs (yes, I flew!). So, I didn’t know why we needed buses. That part of the dream I couldn’t comprehend.

This was getting scarier by the minute. Wolves and witchcraft? Did I want to get out of this dream? No; I wanted to put this black magic or rumor of it to an end! I felt like Dorothy. Especially since nobody needed a car and people grew their own food. In the safety of school, I had time to daydream about whether I wanted to intervene or not. If I wanted to help people, and the witchery, does exist, it was my only path.

Afterschool, I was walking with my friend Darla on a dirt road when we heard a reporter was visiting this town of and unknown name. I name it Hogwash!

Great, a reporter in town…exciting, but I wonder if this puts us on the dark side of the map. Will people find out about Hogwash? Will that be a good thing?

“Darla, let’s head east. I betcha that reporter found some clues for us!”

“No, let’s head the opposite direction. That house gives me the heebie-jeebies.” Darla was a bit eager. Not only did the house give me the creeps, but so did my friend.

“I suppose we’ll get more done. I revel you’re thinking!” Darla loves being a leader, sometimes a bit too much.

Darla and I passed this young lady’s house. She lived by a clear pond and she was watering her garden. The vegetables looked wilty.

I remember my parents said there was a curse coming over the crops. Supposedly, the witch wants her crops to be the only ones in town growing! Who could be that selfish, especially in cozy Hogwash? Was this the witchcraft which we speaketh, and that spread to other towns by some sly snoop?

Once inside, the ceiling was huge, except it possessed a dark, Middle Ages quality. There were many paintings of people, maybe saints. Darla and I proceeded into another room where the first thing I saw was a Jesus painting. I stopped dead as if my feet were cement.

Was this witchcraft upon my feet? No, I just woke up. Darn, who is the witch? How did the townspeople find out about her? These questions I am left to make-up as I daydream on this foggy day. Most people think it’s icky, but I think fog is magic. The next night I had the same dream. It left off exactly where I wanted it to.

So, what happens next?

I heard footsteps coming.

“Darla, do you think”-

“No!”

“You don’t know what I just said. I just wanna talk to her before”-

“Come!” Apparently, we had different ideas of finding clues. Either that, or she sensed what I did when I froze—impending danger.

We flitted out the back door, across the backyard, and into the field. I tripped after I heard a gunshot.

“Darla, don’t be a coward. Wait up!” Darla was heading toward the Ever Hidden Woods.

“Coward? I don’t wanna be the talk of the town, come!”

“What do you mean…?”

The quiet, soft, and mild mountain forest was our haven for now. Maybe we didn’t come back with as much clues as I planned, but some things were revealed. We rested on a moss covered log decaying on the spongy pine needle floor. The air was dewy and sweet for now. People were shouting in the distance. But, the rest was the sound of cicadas humming.

“From my Nancy Drew readings, I learned it’s always best to clear one’s mind by communing with nature,” I advised.

“I sorta feel like my life is a story right now,” said Darla.

“Me too…I’m not sure I want my parents to find me sneaking around for criminals, so don’t tell anyone, Darla, swear?”

“Swear on my life and the lives of the other villagers.” After we caught a few violent breaths, we started out again.

Standing on the edge of civilization, I started to get worried, like we were treading circles.

“Hey! I thought you knew the way to the road.” I yelled.

“Okay! I’ve been around these woods time and time,” she explained tersely, “it should be a cinch. I always sneak out. Just turn your pretty head around.”

“Gracious!”

“Told ya it was the road.”

“No, no, not the road—it’s another old creepy home!”

“Jo,” her voice was shaky, “that wasn’t there before.”

My eyes were bewildered and globular.

“Okay, Jo!” Her voice was intense. “Let’s dodge this big, old cabin.”

I nodded, made a dash, kicked up the most dust I have ever inhaled, and headed the direction we came.

The next morning, Local 5 News had the story everybody set their alarms to see ever since the reporter came.

“Is the drought season over, or is Father Summer holding on? Locals from the town of Hogwash don’t think this is hogwash. Witchcraft runs rampant in this small Pennsylvania village.”

“Great!” Father yells, “Just the last thing we need is more humans finding out about this place!”

“Dad, I think humans can help us. Besides, who wants to live here anyway?” I asked meekly.

“Jo Lisa, if everyone found out what this town really is the accusers, could be the accused, just like in old days. We pay for your education, and this was always a fine village. Now watch this program.”

“…a wicked woman was seen wandering the streets sprinkling powder on the soil. Nobody knows where she lives, but she went mad, rumor albeit, a long time ago when her family was hanged. No real proof is out there yet. Some say the lady was sprinkling fertilizer; others speculate it was potion.

The court may not be able to precede hearings in time for the crisis. Prices of food are said to go up. The forests are predicted to be hunted dry.”

“I don’t like hunting,” I commented.

“We will teach you,” said Mother.

“Uh…uh, great.”

When I returned to school, everyone was talking, some even crying. Teachers were worried for the home-schoolers who could not afford the only fine, town institution. Darla and I were thinking about skipping class to go on another witch hunt, but in our uniforms?

In the breakfast room, Darla came up to me with Sam and Frodo (?!). Clearly, the twins have the hairiest feet on campus, so they never wear sandals even if Father Summer himself caught hay fever. The twins are also short and sadly, not very popular. One thing they were known for though, was invisible shields.

“So who are your new love puppies?”

“Love…puppies? Sam and Frodo are going to help us bust outta school and search for more clues.”

“I thought I told you not to blab! And I thought these two characters were from Lord of the Rings.”

“Oh my gosh, you don’t really expect us to go on this mission alone? We need experience.”

I tried desperately to outweigh her decision, but Sam broke in, “Is this the witch?”

“Quiet, it’s my turn to me the master.” Darla hushed. Then, the plan was fully mapped. The first thing we had to do was ask for a nurse’s pass to fake absence. To conceal the cameras, Frodo sprayed black resin. We wore masks, but sometimes we took them off just so we don’t look suspicious. Magic between class hours was restricted you know.

Once we broke free, we agreed to visit Farmer Paul. He was one of the first people the reporter, Mary Sharper interviewed. Everyone knows him very well, and we are especially close to him because he’s my grandpa. He had a farmer’s tan and wore a long, wavy mustache. His eyes were kind.

“Kids, if the prices of food go up, I don’t know if we’ll be strong enough to survive the winter. Only if we can fool Mother Nature.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” I comforted. “There’s still time for fall harvest.”

“I have never been the wet blanket, but jeez, it’s awful for me because this is my job. If nobody buys my food I won’t be able to afford my tractor.”

“Then you can help us with rain--rain spells and… potions,” Sam stammered.

Sam and Frodo are always quick to trust anybody. I do not understand why we didn’t choose Harry Potter now that he’s away from that weasel, Ron. If this does work, and we make it to the top of the list of heroes, I guess it would make them manlier. Happy hobbit as Frodo was, he grew more intense with the sun’s rays.

“Ok,” Paul granted, “If the rain dances don’t work though, we’d’ve need of a charm that nobody has ‘eard of in these parts. One that restores soil.”

Squiggles squealed with excitement. I decided to put a collar on him. He’ll be my hound dog. We left the farm, returning to the Ever Hidden Woods, but the cabin we saw yesterday vanished.

“I saw it. Are we lost?” I panicked.

“No, this ain’t lost.”

“Frodo, we may need to start using our defense mechanism.” Sam was fervent to use his invisible armor.

“But Darla, we’ve been searching these woods for hours, “I butt in.

“Of course you wouldn’t understand why the house would vanish yet. Only master magicians can do mass disappearances.” I was peeved that Darla was talking to me like I was clueless. I’ve heard the magic tales in history class. I just dose off. I find the ones from Middle Earth, where Frodo and Samwise are from the most compelling.

Then Squiggles squealed.

“What Squiggles? I don’t see anything!” All I could see was the Appalachian Mountains and their smoky hue.

“Hello, Sweetpeas.”

I suddenly worked my gaze up. There she was in a tree--- the witch. She had purple skin and long, white hair. The hair moved on its own, not like the glamorous snowy hair that wisped in the wind, but almost like snakes upon the head of Medusa.

I almost jumped out of my pants.

“Looking for me?”

“Why don’t you leave the people and their crops alone you—“Darla failed to search for the right words.

“Darla!” I yelled then I turned my attention to the witch. “Please, I don’t know your name, but these hardworking folks deserve to live for God sakes?”

In her most wicked of voices she spat, “And what if they do?”

“Even if they do, we will fight you with our seemingly small muscles,” said Frodo. Then, when the witch wouldn’t respond, he prepared his shield. I brought my taser if all else fails. Darla savaged potion from the school’s lab. Luckily, Darla brought sleeping potion.

Carefully, Darla entered Sam and Frodo’s shield save her hands. The soft, powdery aroma was released into the air. Once the witch fell out of the gnarly branches, I caught her heavy body outside our safety zone.

“Now all’s we have to do is find her cabin,” said Sam. We had to work fast incase she aroused. We tied her to the tree, but one problem was running out of rope.

“My gosh,” I asked. “How are we ever going to find her cabin for evidence?” That was our next plan. If the witch was hiding out nearby her dwelling must be in the Ever Hidden Woods.

“We will,” Darla informed, “but we mustn’t let her find us rummaging through her house. I have more rope we can tie her to a tree with.”

I drank a strength potion with Darla, Sam, and Frodo in unison and flew to the top of the moss covered mountain. Squiggles drank a flying potion so he could keep up with us. Then I very vigilantly used the rope to tie her against the trunk. Next, it was time to search for clues in the cabin for the court hearing in two weeks. We were searched and searched, staying close to the streams, but the signs of the cabin did not prove worthy.

Chapter 3

“It could be anywhere!” I shouted.

“Shh…who knows what lurks ‘round us?” Darla shivered. “In my bag theirs a sonar potion used for echolocation. We must use it wisely, though. I don’t want anyone to notice it’s missing because it’s rare and expensive. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Potion? What is that good for? Yeah, hope that echolocation doesn’t bounce off the mountains and you-know-who wakes up and gets us all killed! That witch will eat our crops and us to top it off!”

Darla immediately drank the potion, but the squeal was so high-pitched who could possibly detect it? It reminded me of Squiggles. I grew increasingly reluctant with the decision of bringing my pet as we stumbled along the steep understory of the forest. This echolocation potion could help us find the cabin, and maybe even our way back.

“Echoing is precisely why it works over such a vast land.”

Sam’s compass led us in the northwest direction.

One major challenge was getting past the gulley. All the rocks were slippery and there was hardly any bank on the other side. Even the twins’ calloused feet couldn’t stand a chance! Nobody could hold on to the rocks without scraping our knees.

We decided to chance the waterfall. Besides, it was about ninety five degrees outside. After swimming to the opposite shore downstream, we discovered the greenest valley one can wish for with more than enough rain dances. Birds were even singing as if it were spring. Then there was our prize: the dark cabin!

Chapter 4

I still wasn’t sure I was going to finish my story. I stared startlingly at my ceiling feeling like a new person. My breathing became heavier. What are these recurring dreams? I must have been reading too much and watching too much Wizard of Oz. This reminded me of the Crucible we read in English class too. I felt a dark and foreboding connection to that sudden burst of memory.

The next night I was expecting to cut off my story after a warm cup o’ herbal tea, but later that night…

Ron Weasly and Harry still could not make peace at school. Ron would not even sit by him at lunch. Harry has been spending too much time with his frivolous girlfriend Cho, and Ron is sick of this megastar. I was still busy with my own drama.

“I think the Slytherins are conjuring this witchcraft, and they invited a Gryfindor to their group so they could cover up as good guys!”

“You’re quite straightforward. Don’t jump to conclusions just yet. Only one week to the court hearing,” Cho said. She sighed and drank her juice exasperated with tumultuous newfound love.

Sam: “I can’t find anything that would be much use for proof.”

“Sam, you are hairier than a flim-fluff! (sheep/butterfly/cat crossbreed of the forest), “Keep looking! Darla shouted frantic.

Sam’s small figure came in handy. He uncovered a dusty object. Ah! The spell book will prove it all! Squiggles sniffed out the potion and found it, while Darla and I ravaged the drawers for photos. Hopefully, the purple lady won’t notice too much is missing. Wink, wink. The gang and I finally made it over the gulley again and back into the woods with a bulky bag (spell book, potion that looks like fertilizer, and family photos!?).

I recorded some of the creatures for you in this dream journal while on my journey back through the Ever Hidden Woods. A squinkle, for example, is a combination of a squirrel, skunk, and weasel, except its better at climbing. It smiled at me, knowingly.

Chapter 5: The Robber Barons

There seemed to be less flim-fluffs as we reached the village, but a pig squeal, even higher than Squiggle’s, rang out. It was not mating season but Squiggles ran faster than a Pinto pony. He sniffed behind a very familiar tree, and let out a frightened squeal higher than the one I just heard. I realized--that wasn’t the sound of love.

“Release Squiggles!” I demanded with aggressiveness. It did not help to retrace our steps, for we ran into the gnarly tree.

“Not unless you do one teensy thing for me pretties, oh, actually, two: 1. untie me 2. defend me in court!” Needless to say, it was the witch.

You would not expect all five of us including Squiggles to give in, but we just had to. What lawyer would take such a horrifying request?

Soon, the prices of food reached so high the witch got rich. Farmer Paul couldn’t pay off his tractor, but that wasn’t the worst of our ordeal. The villagers almost completely starved. We had to live off any scraps we could find. No one was prepared and the demand eventually turned in rioting. That flashed across Channel 5 faster than the famine. All hope was lost and the town was in danger of abandonment if it was for the court hearing.

The purple witch’s real name was Esmerelda, revealed during court. Harry Potter and his wit discovered she wasn’t the only culprit behind the weather changes and the bad soil.

“Poor soul,” Harry alleged, “Voldemort bribed to bring her family back from the dead and gave her partial profit if she would help her. I dare say I don’t feel entirely sorry for her but she was used. Her wisdom and healing were once celebrated through the wizard world, as my client informed me, L. Trent.”

As I dreamed, this was the conclusion that caused the stir in the courtroom. After our evidence was presented it was official: not only was the witch guilty, but she had a boss.

Voldemort was banished from earth for a hundred and fifty years. The witch went to prison in Salem and paid back a large portion of her riches. Paul organized a rain dance for the entire town. Gushes and torrents fed the soil with happiness as was never witnessed since the founding of a mysterious man.

September 22nd, the autumn solstice was celebrated with carnival, parades, fireworks, barbershop quartets (ha), tribal bonfires, and ancient hymns and rhythms. Frodo came with me on a date, and Sam took Darla. It became an official holiday.

I woke between sleep and consciousness. My head was sweaty. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t.

“Pop, Papa! Where are you?”

“I’m here! Hope you hadn’t had too much too drink.” He let out a hardy laugh and gazed into my drooping eyes. That comment really confused me.

“I had the most interesting, but terrifying dream!”

“That was no dream. After the festival, Voldemort put one last charm on you. You were almost dead. Froto, Sam, and the mayor, saved your life.”

“Thank you all. I don’t remember what you are talking about Dad, but I think I’m getting back memories. My head really does hurt.” A man that looked an awful lot like the mayor handed me an ice pack.

“Relapses.” The man examined briskly. “You know, your gramp’s business kept the town from going belly up. Good thing we came in time before Voldemort took you to the dark side.”

“I hope this adventure gets me into Wiz College.” Voldemort’s spell didn’t keep me from looking at the future. I leave you the rest to ponder.

Many Meetings, Many Partings

Written By: Jedi Sapphire
You can read the original here:
All Credit goes to the original author

Many Meetings, Many Partings

Long Ages Men can never see,

High deeds no Mortal hands have done,

You knew, and wrought; what grace to me

Is given now to be your son?

--

Imladris, Year 2948 of the Third Age

“If it were anyone but Legolas,” Lord Elrond said, as he stood with his youngest son in the courtyard, “I would not allow it. You know that, Estel.”

“I know, Ada,” the young man said, nearly going cross-eyed trying to watch both the Elven-lord and the stairs leading to the Last Homely House. “I will not give you cause to regret your decision.”

“You must be very careful, penneth. Thranduil is not unpleasant when you get to know him. He will certainly treat you well for his son’s sake. Legolas likes you, and I know from experience that he would consider no sacrifice too great to make for a friend… You are unlikely to come to harm from orcs and spiders while in their care. But neither of them knows anything about Men. You must be sure to tell Legolas if the archery masters push you too hard.”

“Legolas said the archery masters of Greenwood are the most patient teachers in Middle-earth!” Estel protested.

“And so they are, ion nîn… Yet I have seen the amount of time Legolas spent on the archery ranges when he was in training. It did him no harm to go without sleep for a day or two, but it would definitely do you harm.”

Estel let out a frustrated sigh.

“How will I ever be an archer if I cannot practice?”

“Oh, you will practice,” Elrond assured him. “If I know anything of Thranduil’s archery masters, you will spend several hours a day with your bow.”

Estel glanced at the steps. There was still no sign of his brothers or Legolas.

“Estel? Is something wrong?”

The young man drew in a deep breath, and finally asked the question that had been troubling him for some weeks.

“I will never be as good as Legolas, will I, Ada?” he said softly. “No matter how much I practice. I will never have his speed, strength, or tirelessness. He can hit targets that I cannot even see.”

“There is no shame in that, penneth,” Elrond said. “I know many experienced archers, and none of them is as good as Legolas. For that matter, Legolas himself has far more skill now than he did as a novice warrior.”

“You know what I mean.” Estel bit his lip. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You have never disappointed me, Estel,” the Master of Imladris told his foster-son quietly. “You must know that. You have been with us for such a short time, but you have already won all our hearts.”

“But I cannot –”

“Estel.” Lord Elrond’s voice was firm. “It does not matter what you can and cannot do. What matters is your heart, your courage and your spirit. In those you have shown yourself the equal of the noblest Elven-lords of Arda.”

The door opened. Elrond turned towards the house long enough to see the three ellyn emerge before he returned his attention to Estel. “Ion nîn, I do not want you to mope and make yourself miserable if you cannot equal the Mirkwood bowmen. I have spoken to Legolas, but he has not had much interaction with Men and he will not be able to help you unless you let him. Promise me that you will tell him at once if anything is worrying you.”

Estel flushed and mumbled, “I would not have him think me weak.”

“He will not think you weak, Estel. I have known him all his life… Of all the Elves in Middle-earth he is the most soft-hearted, and he will do everything he can to ensure that you are comfortable with your training. You can trust him as you would your brothers. Tell him if you are troubled, my son.”

“I will, Ada.”

“Good.” Elrond pulled Estel into his arms for a brief hug, drawing back as Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas approached them. “May Elbereth watch over you, penneth.”

---

My brothers! Mighty, bold and true,

Your deeds are sung in dale and glen.

What impulse, brothers, prompted you

To love a child of mortal Men?

--

Imladris, Year 2951 of the Third Age

“You will be careful?” Elladan said anxiously.

“Did anyone fuss this much when you went on your first errand as warriors?” asked Estel irritably.

“Of course they did,” Elrohir responded, just as Elladan said, “That was different. We were far older and we had had several years of training. And before you ask, so had Legolas when he went on his first patrol.”

“I cannot help being human!” the young man snapped. “It’s not like I asked for it. Do you think I like being slower and weaker and worse at everything?”

The ellyn exchanged a startled glance.

“That was not what we meant, Estel,” Elrohir said. “And you must not consider yourself weak. You are a skilled warrior and we are proud to call you our brother.”

“Then why do you want to stop me?”

“We fear for you,” Elladan admitted. “We fear losing you. Ada took you in as a favour to the Dúnedain, to keep you safe for them, but in your time here we have learnt to love you, tithen gwador. We want you to be well.”

“And I must confess,” Elrohir added, “that we do not understand this desire to go into the wild. You can gain experience here in Imladris, or if you think it is too tame here you can go to Mirkwood. You will not be able to complain about a shortage of fighting, and we would feel easier if Legolas were watching over you.”

“I am not a child! I do not need anybody to watch over me!”

“Are you joining the Rangers to prove that you need nobody to watch over you?”

Estel’s scowl deepened.

“No. I am going to get some respite from Elves and their incessant, infernal nagging.”

“Estel!”

The young man looked up at his brothers, his eyes softening at the real hurt he read in their faces.

“Forgive me,” he murmured contritely. “I did not mean that. But I must spend more time among men. Even Nana agrees. I cannot be a king of men if I know nothing of them.”

“The Dúnedain are not what you would call regular Men,” Elrohir pointed out.

“It will be a start.” Estel bowed his head. “I know you will worry and Ada will worry and Nana will worry and Legolas will worry, but I must do this. And also…” He trailed off, glancing hesitantly at the Elves.

“And also what, Estel?”

“I have to prove to myself that I am not as incapable a warrior as I seem in comparison with Elves. You have all told me that Men would consider me skilled and powerful, but I have to see that for myself.” His eyes pleaded for understanding. “I must go.”

“Sîdh, penneth,” Elladan said quietly. “We understand.”

“Remember that we will love you and be proud of you no matter what happens,” Elrohir added. “This will always be your home, Estel.”

Estel nodded, his throat too tight for words, turned his horse, and galloped out of the Elven haven.

---

I saw you weep; I knew not why

Your heart was saddened as I grew.

But now I know what made you sigh:

The world that took your son from you.

--

Imladris, Year 2970 of the Third Age

Aragorn, for the first time in many years, was uncomfortable. The room in which he stood was distinctly feminine, yet it lacked the almost dream-like, ethereal quality that marked the chambers of ellith. It was, after all, a mortal woman’s room, and not an Elf-lady’s.

“Will you say nothing, Nana?”

“You have my blessing, if that is what you seek,” the woman sitting by the window said almost curtly, setting aside her book.

“Do you not want me to go?”

“Of course I want you to go. Your duty is with our people, Estel. I would not hold you back.”

Aragorn crossed the room swiftly, dropping to his knees before his mother and taking her warm hands in his.

“Please, Nana, will you not tell me what troubles you?”

Gilraen finally smiled.

“Oh, my son, you must not worry about me. All parents know fear for their children.”

“It is more than that,” Aragorn insisted. “I have seen Elrond and Thranduil worrying about missing sons. It is something else that grieves you. Let me lighten your burden if I can.”

Gilraen looked into his eyes searchingly.

“Elrond and Thranduil both lost their wives to creatures of evil… But they are warriors, and lords responsible for the safety of their respective realms. Perhaps they know how to deal with their fear. Estel, the thought of your death in battle has plagued me since I lost…”

“My father.”

“Your father.” Gilraen could not hide the sudden tears in her eyes. “I wish you had known him, my son. I wish he had lived long enough to welcome you home from battle, to boast of your exploits to his friends, to pride himself on the warrior you have become. He should be here to bid you farewell.”

“We may hope that he sees us and is glad.”

“I must confess, Estel, that there have been times when I have feared that you… forget.”

“Forget?”

“Arathorn. Your father.” She held up a hand to cut off his protest. “It would not be your fault if you did. To the Elves you are Elrondion; Lord Elrond is the only father you have known. I am not so churlish as to be ungrateful for his help all these years. Without his goodwill the line of kings could not have survived this long. But Arathorn it was whom I loved and wed, Arathorn whose child I bore. It is Arathorn whom I see when I look at you now.”

“I have not forgotten him, Nana,” Aragorn said firmly. “I cannot deny my affection for Elrond and his children, and Legolas is more than a brother to me. But I have not forgotten that I am the son of a man… If anything, my time in the mortal realms helps me learn more about our people.”

“I know, Estel, and that is why I am glad you are going, even if I fear to lose you.” She laid a hand on his head. “Do not forget your father, Estel. He was not as wise and fair as an Elf-lord, but he was a good and brave man.”

“I will not forget him, Nana. I promise.”

“Then go, my son.” Gilraen kissed Aragorn’s brow lightly. “Go, and may the Valar speed your steps and strengthen your arm.”

---

O brightest, fairest Elven-maid,

Of beauty more than bards can tell,

Have I your heart and spirit swayed?

How can you love a Man so well?

--

Lothlórien, Year 2980 of the Third Age

“Nin melach?”

The Elf-maiden to whom the question was addressed laughed, although it seemed to her companion that her joy was not complete.

“How many times will you ask me that, meleth nîn? I love you, Estel, with all my heart.”

“You will not forget me?” Estel asked anxiously. “My duties will take me far afield. I do not know when next I will set foot in one of the Elven realms. I may not be able to see you for many years.”

“Ai, Estel, will it be that long? I had not realized. Perhaps I shall get bored of waiting for you and run away with some dashing young Elf-lord.” Seeing Estel’s stricken face, she added patiently. “I was joking, my love. I could never forget you. I will wait.”

“Who could blame you if you realized you preferred an Elf-lord?” Estel mumbled. “You are the fairest of the fair folk, and I am only a Man.”

“Have you forgotten that I am the daughter of Elrond Peredhel? I share the blood of Men.”

“Yet you could choose a different fate.” Estel shook his head, running a hand through his dark hair. “Arwen, I do not know if I was right to declare my love for you... You will have to give up the immortal life of the Eldar to be with me. I bring death to you and grief to my father and brothers.”

“I will gladly choose a mortal life if that means I can share it with you, Estel.”

“I would not have you repent your choice later, meleth nîn. I am only a Man. It would be presumptuous of me to desire any Elf-maiden, and you are not any Elf-maiden.” Estel shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other. “Arwen, are you certain? Any Elf-lord would be honoured to have you for his wife.”

“I do not desire an Elf-lord, my love. I desire you.”

“I am not worthy,” Estel whispered.

“You are. You have proven yourself the equal of the noblest of Elves in courage and strength of heart. You are no less in valour and might than Beren, who claimed the heart of my foremother – our foremother – Lúthien, or Túor, who wooed and won Idril Celebrindal.” Arwen bowed her head, grief flickering in her eyes for a moment. “I... I will not deny that it will grieve me to part from my father, or that I long to see my mother again. But I would find no joy with my kinsfolk in the Blessed Realm if I were parted from you.”

“What is the lifetime of one Man to an Elf-maid in Aman? If you went there you would forget, in time, and perhaps some Vanyarin or Noldorin lord would be able to make you happier than I can.”

“Estel,” the elleth said, her voice suddenly stern, “enough. I have made my choice. I will forsake Aman that I may cleave to you. You can ride afield on your errantries and fulfill your responsibilities. When your duties give you enough leisure to return to me, I will be waiting for you. I promise.”

“Nin melach?”

This time Arwen’s laughter was heartfelt.

“Aye, Estel. I love you.” She drew closer to him. “Now go, my love. Go swiftly, before I am tempted to bid you stay.”

---

Brave Greenleaf ’neath the spreading trees,

Both Mirkwood’s strength and Mirkwood’s cheer,

I hear your voice upon the breeze.

You say, “My brother, I am here.”

--

Eriador, Year 2998 of the Third Age

It was in an unwonted silence that the Chieftain of the Dúnedain and the Prince of Greenwood walked out of the Ranger camp, the Elf leading his horse by the bridle. Aragorn sank into the loosely-packed snow with every step he took. Despite his disgruntlement, habit made him forget he was sulking long enough to cast a glance at the light Elven shoes that barely made an impression on the white surface. He barely managed to stifle his laughter when the mare did the same thing, snorting her disapproval as she tried and failed to replicate the feat.

Legolas reached out automatically to brush the bark of a gnarled old tree with his fingertips as they passed it. The familiar gesture from the Elf made Aragorn’s throat tighten when he realized he would not see it in the months to come.

“Do you have to go?”

As soon as the words were out, he flushed at how childish the question sounded. He half-expected Legolas to laugh at him, but the Elf stopped and turned to face him. The incongruous sight of the blond archer wearing only a light cloak over his tunic while snowflakes gathered on his eyelashes did make Aragorn chuckle. Legolas grinned at him in amusement.

“This does not mean you’re forgiven,” Aragorn said, his tone admonitory. “I still say you should not have done it.”

“And I say I should,” Legolas replied equably. “I am not an Elfling, Estel.”

“You cannot risk your life for my sake like that, you dim-witted Edhel!”

“I risk my life for my father’s people every day,” Legolas pointed out.

“But you might have been killed! And I am only a Man.”

“Precisely my point, Dúnadan. You Men are absolutely no good at taking care of yourselves. What would you have done if I hadn’t saved you? You practically go looking for trouble!”

“That’s rich, coming from you!”

“Don’t change the subject,” Legolas said sternly. “You needed my help, and so I helped you, as you would have done for me.”

“Don’t you understand, Legolas? I am mortal.”

“I know that, Dúnadan,” the Elf-prince responded in the tone of one being forced to conduct a conversation with the village idiot. “I fail to see your point.”

“My point, you orc-brained, thick-skulled lackwit of a Sinda, is that I am mortal and you cannot risk your life for me because... because...” Aragorn trailed off, looking helplessly into Legolas’ quizzical face. “Why do you do it, Legolas?”

“You are my gwador. What is your point, Estel?”

Aragorn had expected to be told that he was the equal of any Elf-lord; for a moment, he was nonplussed. Then he laughed, throwing his arms around his friend in a quick hug.

“Never mind, Elfling. Thank you.”

He laughed harder when Legolas grumbled and grimaced at having to hug an over-tunic, a coat, a cloak and the ends of a muffler along with the Ranger.

“When will you return?” he asked when the Elf finally drew back.

“Whenever you want me, mellon nîn.” Legolas mounted his horse. “Send word to Imladris if you do. Lord Elrond will know how to reach me.” He graced Aragorn with an impish grin. “Next time I should teach you to talk to birds. That would save trouble all round.”

Aragorn squeezed his friend’s hand and stepped back. Legolas touched his heels lightly to the horse’s sides. She tossed her head, and then horse and rider were gone in a flurry of snow.

Aragorn stood looking after them for a moment, a small smile on his face, before he turned to return to the camp.

---

Sindarin Translations

Ada – Dad/Daddy

Penneth – Young one

Ion nîn – My son

Ellon (plural ellyn) – Male Elves

Tithen gwador – Little (sworn) brother

Elleth – Female Elf

Nana – Mum/Mummy

Sîdh – Peace

Nin melach? – Do you love me?

Meleth nîn – My love

Edhel – Elf

Mellon nîn – My friend

Feeling Unloved

Written by: rosethorn59
You can read the original here:
All credit goes to the original author

It was a beautiful morning in the woods, and in the extensive gardens around Mirkwood’s royal residence. There was a warm breeze and the scent of pine and sweet-scented flowers filled the air. Butterflies flitted here and there, and the drone of bees could be heard in the flower beds. It was a day when everyone craved to be outside in the warm sunshine. Everyone except Legolas Greenleaf.

Legolas had not slept well that night, and woke up in a very bad mood. He and his father had had a disagreement the night before and he did not want to get out of bed and face his Adar, or anyone else for that matter. He did not even feel like getting out of bed to do the things that he knew he would have to do; such as his chores, studying and homework, none of which sounded appealing today. The young Elfling got out of bed to open the curtains, then changed his mind and plopped back down on the bed. He put his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling, sighing and pouting. He just knew this was going to be a very bad day; and he was still upset with his father, which made his mood all the worse.

He was angry. And what made it even worse was the fact that his Nana was not even there; she was in a nearby village visiting with her family; so she could not even be there to be the intermediary between his father and himself. She never took sides, but always made Legolas feel better and calmed Ada down, so he was not so grumpy. Well, sometimes, she took Legolas’ side. He loved her so much and was really missing her even though she had only been gone a few days. He really wished she was here now, to protect him from his father’s anger.

Legolas took much to heart. He was a very sensitive child, and his father had been very upset and yelled at him. His Ada seldom got that angry with him and Legolas was concerned about what was going to come of that. That made him feels very uneasy.

Just then a maid knocked at the door. “Legolas?” she called. She received no answer, “Are you all right, Legolas?” Again he did not reply, so she quietly walked into his room and shut the door. “What is wrong, my dear?” she asked him sweetly.

“Nothing,” he quietly mumbled, not taking his eyes off the ceiling..

“Are you planning on getting up, today? It is so beautiful outside,” she stated happily as she walked to the other side of the room and opened the curtains. Then she turned to face the youngster still on the bed." We should also let some fresh air in here, do you not think Legolas? It is stuffy in this room. Or perhaps I should not. Do you feel all right; are you ill?” she asked him.

The longer she was there, the more irritated Legolas became. “No, go away and leave me alone!” he yelled at her.

Now she was concerned about him. “Is there anything I can do to help you, my dear?” she sweetly asked him again.

“No,” he screamed at her. “Go away!!” he yelled as he threw his pillow and the toys on the chair by his bed at her, almost knocking her down. She just stood there, mouth agape. This wasn’t like her sweet Legolas. She could not figure out what was wrong.

“Would you like your breakfast here in your room today, Legolas?” I would be more than happy to get it for you. Then perhaps we could have a talk.” Then in a quiet, endearing voice, she asked him, “What happened, Legolas, to put you in this mood?”

“I don’t want breakfast in bed, I don’t want it at all,” Legolas answered harshly, ignoring her questions.

“All right, my dear, if you decide you want to talk to someone else besides your Naneth and Adar, you know I am always here to talk to as well; if you have need or just wish to visit,” she remarked, looking at him with a half smile. He still would not look at her. She had no idea what was wrong, but thought she would bring it up later with the King.

“Goodbye, Legolas, I hope you have a good day in spite of your problem,” she said to the Elfling as she walked out the door and closed it behind her.

In spite of the way he was feeling; the anger he had directed towards his father the previous day; he did feel guilty about the way he had treated his friend. All she ever did was to try and help him; and cheer him up when he was down. They usually had very nice conversations while she cleaned his room. He really cared about her and she had always been there for him. He had known her his entire life. He looked sadly at his toys on the floor by the door. The longer he thought about the way he had yelled at her, and had actually thrown those toys at her, the worse he felt… He knew he had hurt her feelings and now wished he had not but he did not know what to do about it right now. He knew he should go and apologize to her, but that would be very awkward and embarrassing to him and he did not think he could do it at the moment. So, he decided to deal with it at a later time.

A short while later, Legolas heard familiar footsteps quickly coming down the corridor towards his room. He knew it was his Adar, and when he walked like that it usually meant he was angry about something. Legolas was afraid that this time he might be the one who his father would direct that anger at. He wondered if his Adar was still angry with him about the day before. Legolas was now feeling a little uneasy.

The king knocked twice on the door. “Legolas!?" he called in a loud booming voice. “Either answers me or I am coming in.” He got no reply, so he pushed against the door to gain entrance. Then he looked down at the toys that had hindered his a admittance and closed it behind him. He had a very serious look on his face which Legolas could not quite read, but made him very nervous nonetheless.

“Legolas,” Thranduil began, I just had a visit with Meril about you.” And we need to have a very serious talk, ion nin, about your behavior…”

“Did she tell you what happened?” Legolas asked, anxiously.

“Yes, she told me she was very concerned about you and thought you may not be feeling well. She also mentioned you were acting very unlike yourself.; and I may add from what she said that you are not acting like the Princeling you are. She also mentioned that you were very angry and yelling at her. . She definitely knew something was wrong or else she would not have come to me about it. And,” he mentioned as he looked at the toys by the door again, “as I can see; I expect you were throwing things at her as well.”

“You don’t yell at your elders or your friends, Legolas, or anyone for that matter, and you never throw things at anyone. She could have been hurt. You are going to see Meril at once and you will apologize to her.”

“But, Ada, I really do feel bad about what I said and did to her.” Legolas replied, trying to reason with his father so he would not have to go. “I was going to go and apologize to her later, honestly.” Legolas looked sadly up at his father with his big blue eyes, hoping that would work this time; as it sometimes did.

“That is a good thing that you do feel that way, ion-nin, but that is not enough. You also need to let Meril know that, because you hurt her feelings, and she cares for you very much.” The King was trying to get Legolas to see how very important this was.

“Did she tell you that, too?” Legolas asked him.

“She did not have to, I just know her,” his Adar sighed. “ What you did was very unkind, my son, and you must apologize to her now.”

“I cannot, Ada. I feel bad now, but I don’t want her to hate me and she might because I was bad to her.”

“She doesn’t hate you, she loves you, Legolas, I just told you that,” the king stated. “Why is this so difficult for you? All you have to do is apologize, ion nin.”

“Adar. Can I not put this off for a little while until I know that she feels better about it…and me?”

“No, Legolas, this is something you cannot put off. You must do it now.”

“No, Adar, please don’t make me go! I can’t, I will be embarrassed,” Legolas stated anxiously.

“Don’t you think she might be embarrassed, too? You have to think and see outside of yourself, my son; that is what is called empathy,” Thranduil was trying to reason with him again.

“I know what empathy is and I feel it,” Legolas replied very sadly.. But I still would like to deal with it later. Is that all right?” Legolas asked him very innocently.

“No, ion-nin, that is not all right. You *will* accompany me to see Meril to apologize to her for being so rude to her and for treating her so very discourteously.” Thranduil was very determined. He took his son’s hand and the Elfling still would not move, he just looked defiantly up at his father. “Legolas!” his father yelled, grabbing his son’s arm and turning Legolas to face him. “You created this problem, and now you will go and fix it. Immediately, Legolas and I will not hear another word about it.”

“You are not acting like my little Greenleaf at all, Legolas. You are acting like a rude, spoiled little Elfling. What has come over you?” he asked, his voice tinged with anger once again.

“You yelled at me yesterday and treated me like a baby. It really hurt my feelings, Ada.”

“Well, if you had not acted like one, I would not have treated you that way. And if you want anyone else to ever treat you any differently than that, also, you are going to have to change your attitude, and show them all the same courtesy they show you. And also act your age and not like a tiny Elfling.” Thranduil dug at him.

“If you are not going to be adult enough to go and talk to Meril, you will have to be punished and not be allowed to go outside for a few days. Until you see reason in this situation. Or until I tell you that you can come out.” Thranduil had a feeling that this would not even work, but it was worth a try. “I suppose you could apologize to her when next she comes to your room.”

“Fine,” Legolas yelled back at him. “I did not want to go outside today, anyway,” he answered, even though he did feel a little panicked at the thought of Meril coming too soon. That would be tomorrow! He realized and felt fear at that thought.

Legolas walked to his room with a very heavy heart, but he was still very glad to be out of that situation with his father at the moment. Then he walked over to his bed, plopped down on it, and cried.

His father hated him. That had to be it. Legolas just knew that he wanted him to go away and be gone. He could just tell by the way his father yelled at him so much, and he did that so seldom; almost never. And all the anger he was taking out on him. His Adar kept yelling at him, and he was so angry. He had never stayed angry that long before. For two whole days in a row, now. This was truly frightening for Legolas. Was his father acting this way because he had suddenly stopped caring about him? What had he really done to lose the love of his father? Perhaps his Ada had never truly cared about him that much to begin with. ‘But how could that be?’ he asked himself. Perhaps his Ada had just changed. He knew his mother loved him. She had never yelled at him, or was ever really angry with him. They had always told him that they loved him, and had always treated him like they did.

What had he done to deserve this? Maybe his father had changed his mind about his love for him? His Ada was ashamed of him, he was just sure of it; and he was ashamed of himself, because of it. If his father did not love him very much, maybe he should just leave. Perhaps then his Ada would be happier and would not be so angry. If his father did not love him, he still loved his Ada. He wanted him to be happy, so he decided to leave.

He went back to his room, pulled his pack out from under his bed, and very quickly and quietly, threw a few of his things into the pack. He quietly left his room, sneaked down the hallway, and flew down a flight of stairs to the kitchens to stock up on food.

While he was down there, he saw his friend Meril, just finishing up baking bread rolls. ’Oh, it smells so good,’ he thought.

Meril then caught sight of the young Elfling. “Is there anything I can help you with, dear? How about a couple of fresh baked rolls? I have to admit, they’re very good. I made them myself.”

"Is that how you know they are good, because you made them yourself?”

“It’s called ‘having confidence in yourself’” She whispered quietly to the young Elfling.

“Meril, I came down for food, but now that I’m down here, I want to tell you that I am very, very sorry for what I said and did earlier. I was just angry because Ada yelled at me once yesterday and once today. He hardly ever yells at me. Do you hate me now for what I did and said? I would understand if you did. I was behaving very badly. Ada wanted me to come down here with him to apologize to you, but I wasn’t ready to, yet, even though he insisted. ”It feels better with just you and me.”

“I love you, sweetie, I could never hate you; never; I almost think of you as my own son, I love you that much…don’t ever doubt that again. I’m tough skinned, I can take a lot. and Legolas, you do need to do things in your own time…even though I know your father wanted you to come down, earlier. But it is also important to listen to your father and do as he says. He *is* your father, after all. But it still means so much more coming from just you.”

“So, you’re not angry with me or embarrassed because of my behavior?” Legolas asked hopefully.

"No, my little Greenleaf, I am not angry with you or embarrassed by your behavior. So you can stop worrying about that. I was just concerned about you, that is all, love.” She smiled.

Legolas smiled in return, and looked very relieved. He ran over to her and gave her a big hug.

“I love you, Meril, and I am also glad that is over with,”

“Me too, my little Greenleaf.”

“So, you came down for food, huh? Something good to eat?” she asked. “How about a couple of my famous rolls, would you like those?” She asked him, again, eyeing his pack.

“Yes, those would be great; and maybe some fruit?” Legolas asked quietly.

“Of Course. Are you planning to go on a picnic, Legolas? I see you have your pack.”

“No, I’m just going outside for a while and thought I might get hungry,” he answered as he stuffed his pack full of the goodies.

“That is a good thing to take a snack along, then. Where were you thinking of going? Out to the gardens for a while?”

“Oh, I don’t know, somewhere,” he answered as nonchalantly as he could, hoping she would not notice.

“All right. You have a good day, then.“ She replied.

“Goodbye, Meril,”

“Goodbye, sweetheart, see you later,”

Legolas then walked very quietly up the stairs and out the door of the palace. Once outside, he flew to his favorite tree to think what he might do next. He had two favorite places where he always hid when he was frightened or upset. This tree or some bushes nearby. He was not sure what to do next, though. He had to get out of here.

By this time, Meril had gotten a message to the king. When he heard the news about his son, he felt an immediate tightness in his chest, frightened that it was he and his temperament that had something to do with this. If it did, he would not know what he was going to do to make things all right between his Greenleaf and himself. ‘What was I thinking?' he thought to himself. ‘I have been treating my son worse than he was acting towards Meril‘. “What have I done?” he mumbled to himself, not realizing that his son had just wondered the very same thing a short while before. Thranduil was desperate to find him. He could not even comprehend the thought of his youngster being out there, in the wild, in potential danger. This just made him sick to think about. Perhaps he should tell his wife? No, he thought, not unless the situation did not improve. He just knew he would find him. He absolutely had to. So, he gathered up as many guards as he could and had them scouring the area, looking for Legolas in the gardens, and the immediate vicinity.

Legolas saw them and panicked; he did not want to be caught; especially this soon. And he also just remembered his father knew about his hiding places. So, he had to leave here and find a place to hide for the time-being, before he could run away. He climbed out of the tree, taking care that no one could see him, slinking around bushes and tree groves, or whatever he could find to hide behind, or climb under or dive through, on his way to the front gates. When he arrived at the front entrance, he walked very quickly, but quietly towards the gates. He then slowly made his way past some guards at the front gate.

They were visiting among themselves, so they did not hear the young Elfling pass by them; but Legolas could hear his heart thumping in his chest and hoped the guards did not hear it as well. He slowly passed behind them, hiding in all the hallway nooks and crannies he could find. Then he ran as fast as he could towards his father’s chambers which were unlocked at the time, better luck for him. Then he looked around for a good place to hide in his father’s bedroom, and decided to hide under the bed covers. They could never find him there. He would be virtually invisible. So, he dove underneath the blankets and covered himself up as best he could. Unfortunately he did not realize that he had accidentally left one foot sticking out from under the covers.

Thranduil desperately looked for Legolas in his usual hiding places, and panicked when he found that Legolas wasn’t there. Then he got even more frightened when his men told him they could not find the little Elf anywhere on the grounds. Thranduil thought that Legolas must be seriously upset if he was not in one of his usual places. He feared that his son may have run out into the woods. So, he took some of his men out to look for him in the nearby vicinity in the woods. He was absolutely nowhere to be found. So, it was decided that a large group of men, himself included, would go out in the woods to hunt for him until they found his Princeling. The frantic king knew the trip might take some time and be dangerous, so he went up to his rooms to retrieve his weaponry for the hunt, and there to his surprise and relief, he noticed a big lump under his bedcovers and a little foot sticking out from underneath them. His bed? What a choice of places to hide, he thought.

Legolas was scared to death that he was going to get caught, because he heard someone else in the room, with him. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and then a big sigh. Who was it? Could it be his Ada? It had to be. But he thought his father would not be able to find him under all those covers... Surely not? So, was he safe?

Thranduil sighed in tremendous relief, but decided to pretend he did not know that Legolas was there and put all the emotion into it that he could. "Oh, Legolas, I wish I could find you, I am so worried about you. What shall I do if I can never find you? I love you so, and you could be taken away from me...in the forest where wild animals could eat you, or spiders could attack you, or even Orcs may find you. Oh, I love you so much, my little Greenleaf. Perhaps I will never get to see you again. And I will never even know what happened to you. You are breaking my heart."

Then a little voice from under the covers said, “I was still angry and frightened, Ada. So I thought I should just leave here. I thought you wanted me to. That way neither of us would be angry anymore. And you would not have to deal with me, anymore.”

“Frightened? Of me? My little Greenleaf, you never ever need fear me. What made you feel that way?”

“I do not know, Ada, I guess it was because you were so angry and yelling at me…two days in a row. How did you know that I was in here and under the blankets?”

“Well, let us say you do not hide very well, Legolas.”

“Maybe when I get older, I will be able to hide better, “ Legolas replied cheerfully.

“Yes, my Legolas,“ he answered with a mysterious grin on his face. “Perhaps you shall.”

Just then the covers came down just enough to see a pair of big, sad blue eyes, which looked very guiltily at his father. "Well, there you are, Legolas. I was beginning to think I was just talking to a bunch of blankets on a bed. Thranduil replied with a much lighter tone to his voice. Then Thranduil went over to the bed, picked his Greenleaf up and held him close.

Then his voice changed to one of a very serious nature." I was so worried about you and I was afraid you did not want to see me, again, Legolas, the same as you felt about me. But we were both very wrong, Legolas. There is nothing in this world as precious as family. I looked in your usual hiding places, which you knew I would, and I could not find you. Do you know how frightened that made me, my son? Supposing you had been lost to your Ada and Nana, Legolas; that would be the worst thing in this world for me. For you and your mother mean everything to me.”

“Why did you hide in here, tithen pen?" Thranduil asked curiously.

"I thought it would be safer in here, because you never yell at anyone in here; not at Nana, the guards, not at anyone.” “I thought maybe it would work for me and you would not yell at me in here, either, Ada.”

“Thranduil smiled sweetly at his son's reasoning. “This is not a magical, ‘no yelling allowed ‘room,” Legolas. I have just never had a reason to yell at anyone in here. Believe me, if I had a reason to yell at someone, I probably would. I just have never had a reason to.”

“You did wrong by running away and hiding from us, ion-nin, but under the circumstances, I understand why. You never have a reason to be afraid of your family, though, Legolas, even when you misbehave. Your Nana and I will always love you no matter what. I am not angry with you, Legolas. When I 'do' get angry at you, sometimes, I may raise my voice, not to frighten you, but to correct you about something you did that was disrespectful to your elders, or others. Everyone deserves respect, Legolas, no matter who it is, and you should give it to them. Then they will give it back to you. You should particularly respect your Nana and I. We just want what is best for you.”

“It is wrong of me to yell at anyone, especially you, my Greenleaf. I am disrespecting *you* when I do that. It is usually out of frustration over a difficult situation that just comes with being your father. Yet there is no excuse for it. Sometimes adults just make mistakes, too. I am very sorry, my son, and I hope you can forgive me, Legolas.” The King smiled at his son very sweetly.

“Forgive *you,*Ada?” he asked; the idea being very foreign to him. “I never thought about you making mistakes, before. You did something wrong too, then, did you not, father?” Legolas replied with a sheepish smile. “Then I forgive you, too,” he replied.

“Thank you, ion-nin,” the king gratefully replied.

Legolas crawled off of his father’s lap, jumped on top of the bed and attempted to straighten the bed that way and sat on it when he was done. It was still lumpy and poorly made, but the king appreciated the effort.

“I am very sorry I worried you. I never thought about that. I am also sorry that I was wrong, and gave you a reason to be angry with me," Legolas regretfully replied. “I love you and Naneth, Adar, very, very much and I always will, too.” Legolas now had a big grin on his face, knowing that everything was going to be all right.

"You know, before this little episode happened, I was planning on taking a stroll around the palace grounds, and I was going to ask you if you would like to go with me. But considering the fact that I told you that you could not go out today, and you did not really want to go outside, anyway, I guess I shall just have to walk alone.”

"No, Ada, I really want to go. I would love to go! Can we?" Legolas' heart was happy

again, and he hoped that this meant he might not get a serious punishment for what he had done.

“Yes, my son. But there is also the matter of the punishment I must give you,” Thranduil mentioned as if it were an afterthought, bringing Legolas’ happy mood down for a moment. “What do you think we should do about that?” he asked earnestly. You have apologized to Meril, and you are lucky that she was very gracious about this whole situation. She is a very good woman, and did not deserve to be treated like that. No one does. She loves you very much, Legolas. The same as your Nana and myself. Never forget that. Have you learned that lesson?”

Legolas was now looking down at the floor, checking out the patterns on the marble squares, something he had memorized long ago. “Yes, father, I have, truly.”

“What kind of a punishment do you think you deserve, Legolas?” Since Legolas just looked at him with a sad pout on his face, King Thranduil continued, “Legolas, you did not want to come outside for the day. Let us go for that walk we were going to take before it got so rudely interrupted by the events of the morning. Would you agree to that punishment as a just one?” Thranduil asked.

“Well,” the young Elfling replied as he looked seriously into his father’s kind eyes and took him by the hand. Then a big smile came over his face. I think that is a just one, Ada. Being outside today will be such a hard thing to do,“ he grinned.

The End

The RingBearers Guilt

Written By:caitythelioness
You can Read the Original Here:
This work is credited to the original author

The Ring-Bearer’s Guilt

The passage had been excellent in the four days since they had sailed from Middle Earth. Frodo supposed that it wouldn’t have really been any other way. Though Lady Galadriel and Lord Celebron had no command over the wind and sea, their very presence seemed soothing upon the elements. Their trip was but in its infancy however, and Frodo wasn’t sure how far the peace of the Elves could extend once land passed from their sight. Their ship was of excellent craftsmanship, naturally, and Frodo’s journey as yet had been pleasantly comfortable. Sharing some handsome, Hobbit-sized quarters with Bilbo, when Frodo wasn’t in the company of his elderly Uncle, he was to be found with Gandalf, or sitting in the aura of the Lady and her party.

Yet as serene as everything thus far had been, Frodo felt unsettled. The sadness of leaving The Shire tugged at his heart, but there was a deeper vexation that he could only too clearly comprehend, but knew not what to do about. So here in the bow of this beautiful ship he sat, with the stars as company and the night as a cloak, and worry weighing upon his soul. So absorbed was he that he didn’t even notice the soft footsteps of his friend, or the familiar swish of the trusted wizard’s robe.

“Why is your heart troubled?” Gandalf seated himself beside the Hobbit, also staring unseeingly at the unchartered night horizon. “I see it in your eyes, Frodo,” He said, as Frodo considered a denial. “Troubles of such you feel you cannot speak them.” Now Gandalf turned to his young friend, eyes bright and alert, but shaded with concern. “Why?”

Frodo brow furrowed, contemplating. Though he was uneasy to speak of his unrest, he knew that he couldn’t cheat Gandalf of the truth. It was several long minutes before he had worked up the courage to speak, let alone what he was going to say.

“I didn’t think it was going to be like this, Gandalf,” Frodo said at last.

Gandalf frowned and didn’t speak.

Frodo sighed, looking out again at the sea. “I knew that after the Ring was destroyed, and if we were ever to return to The Shire, that things would be different. That I would be different. But I didn’t expect to feel like this…not after this long. I have much life ahead of me yet…are the rest of my years to pass marred by the same feeling?”

“What feeling, Frodo?” Gandalf asked puzzled, and Frodo hung his head in shame.

“Guilty,” he said in a small voice.

“Guilty?” The wizard repeated. There was no mistaking the surprise in his tone.

“I let the Ring take me, Gandalf,” Frodo whispered. “I would have taken it for my own, even after all Sam and I had been through. If it weren’t for Gollum, I wouldn’t have destroyed it. I would have been the ruin of us all.”

There was a short silence.

“I told you that Gollum had his role. And if it was only to intercept you when you were the most susceptible to Sauron’s charms, then it was a purpose well served.” Gandalf said slowly.

“I failed us all,” Frodo’s voice was so low, even the attentive wizard had to strain to hear it. “I wasn’t strong enough.”

Gandalf leaned forward, trying to catch Frodo’s eye. “Frodo, you were stronger than us all.” His speech was earnest, but still the Hobbit refused to look at him.

“I wasn’t,” He insisted dejectedly. “If I was, I would have thrown that evil thing straight into the fire.”

“Oh Frodo,” Gandalf chuckled, but in a way of reassurance instead of humour. “My dear Hobbit. The Ring of Power was a source of pure evil. It was created by evil and only evil could destroy it. Your heart is pure, and there is no malice in it. Only after all the Dark Lord’s tricks and tests, when you were at your very last, was it able to break through your reason.”

There was another silence as Frodo tried to absorb his wise friends words, and found there was nothing he could say in reply.

“Is this why you are leaving Middle Earth?”

Still Frodo said nothing. He knew the reason he left it all behind was because it didn’t fit anymore, like a glove that has become too small and worn. But there was also a part that hoped that maybe in leaving, he could leave his weakness and self-torture behind.

Not heeding Frodo’s silence, Gandalf continued. “You can’t sail away from what happened,” he said, uncannily knowing the Hobbit’s thoughts. “All you can do is accept what is past. Accept that you have the same weakness that would have felled us all. None of us are so different, men or wizard or elf or Hobbit. That should be of some comfort to you.”

Finally tearing his eyes away from the dark, Frodo looked at Gandalf, and the wizard smiled. “Everything that is past is filled with some regret; but the future is wide. Don’t look at what you should have done, but what you did.” He clapped Frodo on the shoulder, not unlike a grandfather would a grandson, and with a last reassuring smile, swept away.

Though somewhat comforted by Gandalf’s words, Frodo couldn’t help but heave another burdened sigh. “Some things can never go back to how they were.” He murmured to himself, and then noticed a bright star winking down on him.

For some strange reason it gave him an overwhelming sense of Sam, and he felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes. The star continued to twinkle, and though he could not remember doing so, suddenly Frodo found himself wishing; wishing with all the conviction of his being, that change wasn’t so hard.