Title: From Last to First

Author: Songbird

Rating: This chapter is pretty much G, but the story is pg-13.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of it except that which came from my brain.  Just borrowing the characters.

Summary: This is my take on Legolas' life.

Acknowledgments: First to Cathy for being my beta, thank you for being picky.  Second, to the "chat" girls, thanks for the encouragement.  Mostly, thank you to Cube for being my best friend.

From Last to First

By Songbird

Prologue

As she held her newborn son in her arms, Elriowiel, wife of King Thranduil, softly wept.

*He is perfect,* she thought, counting his fingers and toes.  She brought him close to her face and inhaled the fresh scent of him.  She watched in joy and rapture as his eyes opened and seemed to focus on her face; his tiny little fingers wrapped around hers.

“I will call you Legolas,” she said to the peaceful little bundle.  “My little Greenleaf to remind me of this beautiful spring day.  The day you brought joy back into my heart.”

The healer’s stood near, ready to respond should the Queen or the infant have need of them.  Two servants hovered near the shadows, trying to anticipate what the Queen might desire, before she even knew she desired it.  No matter their position in the household, they were all uncomfortably aware of the King’s absence.

None of them could forget the fights from just a little over a year and a half ago, the Queen’s wish for another child, and the King’s refusal. 

Everything changed when Teril, the eldest of the four royal elflings, participated in a dare that would cause many a night of grief in the realm of Thranduil.  No one knew exactly what happened, but Teril and three of his friends disappeared.  Three months later, the bodies were found abandoned where the elves of Greenwood the Great would find them.  What had been done to them was unspeakable, and if Thranduil ever caught anyone speaking of it, they would find themselves spending time in the dungeon.

When they could not relieve the Queen of her depression, Thranduil decided to grant her wish of another child.  It was either that or have her sail to Valinor.  He did not wish to see her leave Middle Earth, so the child was conceived.

As he watched her from the doorway he knew that she would now be fine, but he could not bring himself to see his new son.  Legolas she called him; that was a fine name, but Thranduil knew that Legolas could never replace Teril.

Chapter 1 – Yearning

The years waxed and waned as the little Prince Greenleaf, under the watchful eyes of a blessed Ammë who loved him, grew.  He spent his many days under the branches of the Birch and Beech trees that surrounded the palace gardens.  The trees were tall and graceful and the leaves would dance with the slightest breeze.  Here he would come with his Amme and his sister Tiniwiel.

Being a young warrior of the realm, Legolas and the other little elflings would leave the she-elves to their duties and race off underneath the trees.  Finding sticks to use as daggers and swords they spent their days re-enacting the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, picking between some of the greatest elves.  It was not important to them if they were living or not, or even if they had fought in the battle, if it was an elf they all revered, then an appearance could be made.

Legolas had his three favorites that he rotated sharing with the others, Glorfindel, Gil-galad and Elrond.  As Elriowiel watched him play, she was always saddened that he never chose to be Thranduil or Oropher.

*I wonder what Oropher would say seeing his son treat Legolas as if he didn’t exist,* she often wondered to herself.  She would always sigh deeply and push the thought away.  *He will love him soon enough,* was her predicted reply.

As Legolas approached her one morning, she steeled herself for the questions he would ask.

“Ammë?”

“Yes Legolas?”  She replied.  This was how she always replied.  This conversation had repeated itself over and over again for the past two years, and it was now becoming more frequent.

“Why is it that I cannot go train with the warriors yet?”  Usually it was a struggle for her son to keep his tears in check and she noticed with despair that they were no longer in his eyes.

*When did I miss it?* She questioned herself.  *When did he become resigned to being the only elfling his age not taken yet to train?  When did this rejection become commonplace in his heart?*

She had been watching him for quite some time now, shunning the younger elflings who thought it great fun to have a prince among their playmates.  All of Legolas’ companions from his ‘battle’ days had now crossed into the realm of the warriors, but he had been left behind.

It saddened her heart to watch him, day after day, sitting on the garden wall watching his friends learning to shoot with the new bows that had been given them.  To watch them be presented with real weapons while he was expected to continue to play with sticks.

She knew he was taunted by some of those who had once been his friends, being called a sapling and a nursling.  What struck her heart the most was hearing that they called him Legolas, the UnPrince of Greenwood.

When she could not give him the answers he needed, he turned his back to her and fled into the woods.  He could not even seek solace in his rooms, for he was still expected to sleep in the nursery.

Deciding she had had enough, Elriowiel approached her husband in the throne room.  “I would speak to you alone,” she said without preamble or courtly pleasantries.

Thranduil nodded and the room cleared out quickly.  All of Greenwood knew better then to get into the middle of a Royal battle and this one looked to be cataclysmic.  Not one of them had a doubt what this battle would be about.  Legolas.

Cathy – Yay for being the first reviewer.  I’m still quite confused why you all like it, but I’m glad you do.  Thank you Cathy for all your help in making this story better, you are the best beta.

Cathy – Yep, she knows her husband has taken this a bit far.  Husband’s can be dense, trust me, I know.

Lorwen – Thank you Lorwen.  I really liked the start.  Hope you like the next chapter also.  *wink*

Lorwen – Guess you did.  Me too, I would love to huggle him.  And I know I’ve given him a very sad early life, but the question is, can her rise above it?  I also liked the cataclysmic line I liked the visual it gave.  As for what Elriowiel’s name means, I have no idea.

Wanda – The next chapters are right here.  I’ll try to be quicker next time.

On to the next chapter:

Chapter 2 – Decisions

Words that Elriowiel had been holding in for many years started to tumble forth before the last door had even closed.

“Thranduil how can you continue this?” she said.  “Legolas is your son and is entitled to the same love and attention you show both Rowyn and Anaran; the same that you always showered upon Teril.”

Thranduil’s head snapped up at the mention of the dead prince.  “Don’t you …

“Don’t I dare mention his name?  Why not Thranduil?”  She retorted, eyes flashing with years of pent up anger and rage.  “Teril was my son also and just like you, a part of me died the day his body was discovered.”  She paused for just an instant before starting again, abandoning the topic of her youngest, for that of her eldest.  “I’ve heard the rumors Thranduil,” a weary sadness lit upon the queen’s features as she continued.  “I know what it is that Teril and his friends were accused of doing.”

An impenetrable silence filled the throne room as the pair battled within themselves over the truthfulness of the accusations against their son.  Bearing the weight of their child’s choices rested heavily upon both of their shoulders.

“I never wanted you to know,” Thranduil whispered as he embraced his wife, her anger abating for the moment.  “It took me many years to admit to myself that he was most likely capable of what they said.  I could not bear to have another child become like Teril was.”

Elriowiel bristled at the accusations and pushed herself away from her husband.  “Just because Legolas looks like Teril, it does not make him Teril.”  She turned and faced Thranduil again.  “You have never given him the chance to prove himself, you just assume that they are the same person.  I once found Teril and his friends in a secluded area of the gardens; they had captured a field mouse and were systematically plucking the limbs from its body.  I have never seen Legolas behave like that.”

Thranduil was sickened by what she told him.  “Why did you not tell me?” he questioned.

“I thought they were just being children,” Elriowiel said.  “It wasn’t until Rowyn and Anaran were born that I realized how different Teril really was.”  She sighed deeply and continued.  “The fact that Legolas resembles Teril in appearance is a moot point Thranduil, he needs to know the love of his father.  You have said less then twenty words to him in his entire life.  I demand that you assign him, as you did our other boys, to a training squad.  You will put him into a group with those who are his age and you will do whatever is in your power to help him catch up to where his peers are.  Do you understand me Thranduil?”

“Do not make demands of me that I cannot bestow,” Thranduil pleaded with his wife.

“I am giving you no choice,” she answered, eyes flaring with all the pain and disappointment she felt.  “Legolas will be moved out of the nursery within the hour.  If you do not wish to be humiliated by a royal Prince of Mirkwood sleeping out under the trees because he does not have a bed, then I suggest you get past your prejudice.”

Elriowiel did not wait for an answer as she left the throne room in search of her youngest son.  This was not going to be easy for any of them.

It was not five minutes later that Isál entered the chamber to speak with the king.  He had informed the rest of the king’s ministers that they were to not return without express permission from him first.

“My Lord?” he inquired.

Thranduil looked up to see Isál standing before him.  “You heard?”

Isál tried to keep the wry grin from creeping onto his lips but the king knew him too well not to see it.  “My Lord, when your wife is unhappy everyone within a quarter of a mile can hear what is said.”

Thranduil smiled at the truth in his friend’s words, but could not pull himself from thoughts of his dilemma.

“With your permission My Lord, I may have the answer you are seeking,” Isál suggested.

“Isál, if you have a solution, please enlighten me,” Thranduil replied.

“I know your feelings about Legolas, Thranduil, for you have entrusted me to be your chief advisor.  Elriowiel is correct in the fact that your son needs to leave the nursery and start his training.”  Isál paused, “I propose to you my Lord that you entrust his training to me.”

“Why would you do this?” asked Thranduil.

Isál continued on, “I may be your chief advisor and best friend Thranduil, but I also see in Legolas what your wife sees.  He has potential beyond the chances that have been given him.  It will not be easy for him, for he will join his peers, some who have been training now for two years.”

As he paused, Thranduil was surprised to see anger rise into his friend’s features.  “I would also see some of those little elflings who have nothing better to do then put down a member of the royal family be bested by the one they taunt.”

Thranduil knew that this was a task he himself should be doing, but could not bring himself to deny the fact that this solved a lot of his problems.  “So be it Isál,” he declared, “the training of Legolas will be your duty, see to it that he does not shame us.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Elriowiel entered the gardens and made her way to the wall where she knew she would find her son perched upon.  “Come with me Legolas,” she said.  Legolas was curious about what was happening but did not question his Ammë as he followed her into the palace.

“Legolas,” she said, “I have spoken to your father about your training.  I need you to pack up the things you will need to take with you to the training barracks.  Can you do that for me?”

“Yes Ammë,” Legolas said as he rushed off to pack with thoughts of his Adar finally loving him enough to train him running through his head.  It did not take him that long to be ready, and as he approached his Ammë, he got the feeling this was not as good as he thought it should be.

She eyed him solemnly before finally speaking.  “What I’m going to ask you to do Legolas will not be easy for you must do it alone.”

Legolas nodded to let her know he understood.

“You must take your things and go wait by the gates until, well until someone comes to get you.  Can you do this?” she continued.

Elriowiel’s heart broke at the instant Legolas realized exactly what she was asking of him.  He did not trust his voice to speak, but nodded instead to his Ammë, knowing that his father would probably not be there to meet him; that he may stand at the gates and have no one claim him.

These were the thoughts that repeated through his mind as he made his way, all alone, to the gates of Greenwood.  Word had spread through the realm of the Queen’s demands on her husband and many found reason to be near the gates.  Some tried to pretend they were not there for the spectacle, while others stared in unabashed joy at getting an inside look at the royal family.

Legolas stood there through it all praying to the Valar that he would not have to wait too long.

Chapter 3 – Surprises

Legolas stood there, trying not to fidget, holding his head high.  For a young boy who had gone unnoticed all of his life, being the center of attention was enough to unnerve him.

He silently scanned the crowds around him in hopes of seeing his Adar approach.  Watching the faces of the crowd, he was confused by the mixture of emotions that were directed at him; amusement, sadness, hope, fear, joy and even pain.  He silently watched as a group of young warriors started a betting pool and he wondered if they were betting on how long he would stand here, who would come to get him, or both.

Having been taught by his Ammë that being scrutinized by a crowd is part of being royal, uncomfortable as it was, he tried to ignore the crowd and searched for familiar faces.  As he scanned the people around him his heart began beat faster, trying not to seem scared he sought for his family, and found them missing.

His sister Tiniwiel had already lost her resolve to watch her favorite brother being put through such a test and had fled to her room, weeping at her Ada’s hatred of Legolas.

Rowyn and Anaran watched from the window of one of the warrior barracks.  Having never had the opportunity to know their little brother, they felt rather indifferent towards him.  They did take pride in the fact that he bore himself well and, when a nearby warrior made a snide comment, Anaran gave him a bloody nose for his remark.  Legolas was still their brother and royalty at that.

Thranduil watched with pain as his youngest son waited all alone, knowing that he had once again rejected him.  As he watched, he once again pictured Teril at that age, remembering fondly training his heir.  He fought against the memories of Teril’s stupidity and thought once again, *if Legolas didn’t look so much like Teril, maybe it would be different.* He turned away from the window, not waiting to see Isál’s approach.

Elriowiel stood alone, with tears in her eyes, at what she had asked her son to do.  *Thranduil will have no choice but to do this,* she thought.  As Elriowiel watched Isál approach she knew that she had lost the battle, but she refused to lose the war.  She would do whatever was within her power to bring Thranduil and Legolas together.

**********

As Legolas watched in the direction his Adar should come from, he saw Lord Isál approach.  The Elf Lord was six feet six inches tall from what Legolas had heard, and had beautiful long blonde hair braided to show his position as the king’s chief advisor.  It was rumored among the warriors that Isál’s lineage could rival that of Thranduil but that Isál chooses to remain an enigma.

The entire population of Greenwood, gathered at the gate, no longer feigned nonchalance as the mighty warrior Isál approached the unwanted prince, knelt before him and spoke.

“Prince Legolas,” he started.  “The honor has been placed upon my shoulders to see that you are properly trained to be a warrior of the realm.  The choice is yours alone to accept or reject this offer, what say you my liege?”

An audible gasp was heard through the crowd at the offer presented to the youngest royal.  Not since he trained his own son could anyone remember the Elf Lord taking on a solitary pupil.  The air was thick with anticipation as the crowd pressed closer awaiting the decision of the young prince.

Legolas looked into the eyes of the elf before him, piercing ice blue orbs urging his acceptance.  Eyes showing Legolas that, should he be accepted as trainer and father figure, he would never betray his student.

“My Lord,” Legolas started, his voice cracking with the emotions thundering through his body, “it would be my honor to learn from such a skilled master.”

A collective breath was released as the crowd cheered the decision of the young prince.  Unbeknownst to any of them, they had also feared Legolas being a replica of Teril, a view that was being changed with the words and actions of a very wise teacher.

With a smile, Isál rose to his feet, “I have a gift for you Legolas.”  The stunned elfling watched as his new mentor pulled a package from the quiver strapped to his back.  “I promise you, we will soon have you fitted for a bow and I’ll teach you myself how to fletch your own arrows, but until then,” he paused as he unwrapped the package in his hands and held out to Legolas two daggers of remarkable make, “we will start your training with these.”

The crowd once again gasped and lowered their jaws to the catch-a-fly position as they wondered where such weapons came from.

Legolas looked up at Isál, asking for permission to touch the beautiful white handled daggers.  With a nod from his teacher, he took one and admired the intricate detail on the sheath.  When he pulled the dagger out, he looked closely at the exquisite markings on the blade.

Seeing Legolas glance up with questions in his eyes, Isál explained.  “These daggers were given to me as a gift of service and loyalty by your grandfather, Legolas.  It had been my honor and duty to serve beside him for many years, as it was on the day his immortal flame was extinguished.  I want you to have them now, to wield in the tradition of your fathers before you, to signify the great warrior you will one day be.”

As Legolas returned the knife to its sheath, he took the gift and clutched it to his chest.  “Thank you sir,” was all he could choke through his unshed tears.

As the crowd continued to inch closer, almost begging for a closer look at the daggers in the young prince’s hands, Isál spoke again.

“I believe, for us to get to know each other better Legolas, I will take you on a short journey.  I think however, that you should have a companion to travel with you, someone to be your friend and confidant.  You should choose someone of your own age, someone you feel you could learn from.”

As Isál stopped speaking the crowd surged with the boys that were Legolas’ age, boys who wanted to be picked despite the fact that for two years they had taunted and gossiped about their ‘friend’.  Parents, seeking the glory that could come to their family by being so close to the royal family, also flooded to the front of the crowd.

Legolas thought about all the boys he had played with in the gardens, the ones he had stood side by side with in their mock battles, the ones who had betrayed him with their unkind remarks as he was left behind.  As he thought about all of those, he knew there was only one he could choose.

As Legolas searched the crowd for Anarandil he knew just how they would react.  Having just moved here with his mother from Lothlorien, his father having died, Anarandil had been unwanted and unaccepted by those in his peer group.  He was clumsy and gawky and from the judgments of others was incapable of ever becoming a warrior.  In Legolas’ mind they were both outcasts and forming a bond together could only make them both stronger.

Finally finding the one he would choose, Legolas looked up to his teacher to let him know that he had decided.  The Elf Lord nodded his head and awaited the choice of the second student he would be taking on, with the parent’s approval of course.

Having made a choice, with maturity beyond his years, Legolas looked back to where Anarandil stood, knowing what was going through the other boy’s head.  Anarandil was kicking the dirt with his feet, knowing he had no chance of being picked, wishing he could be anywhere but where he is.

“I choose Anarandil,” Legolas states firmly, watching the other boy.

Deathly silence filled the courtyard as all heads turned to look at the chosen boy.

Chapter 4 – Becoming Friends

The crowd soon dissipated when Lord Isál quickly ushered the boy, his Ammë and the prince to a private place where they could speak.  He had been sure that Legolas would pick the young outcast as his companion and was glad for it, the young son of Legeldel, under his tutelage would bring honor one day to his Adar’s name.

Within a half hour Isál had made arrangements with Delérith, Anarandil’s Ammë, had got Legolas settled into the barracks, and had measured both boys for the bows they would need when they returned.  Not long after that, their packs were ready and they were heading once again to the gates of Greenwood.

Legolas could feel his excitement rise, as this would be the first time he would be allowed to venture from his home to witness what lay beyond.  As Isál and his students stood there waiting for the gates to open, Legolas could smell the outside air as it drifted in and to him it smelled much sweeter then all the air he had ever smelled.  The air smelled of new adventures and freedom from all the turmoil of palace life.  All of his senses were on edge as they took one step then another step and they were almost past the gates when a voice called them back.

“Lord Isál wait!”  Delérith called.

Legolas released his pent-up breath.  He had no idea he had been holding it, but felt very much like a withering flower as his adventure was halted before it began.

Delérith gave a knowing look.  “I am not here to stop your adventures,” she said to the boys.  “I just, well, I remembered I had these still and I wanted Anarandil to have them.”  She thrust the package at her son and spoke with tears in her eyes.  “Make your Ada proud my son, he loved you very much.”  Then, choking back sobs of loss, Delérith fled back to her home.

Anarandil looked after his Ammë then looked up to Lord Isál questioningly.

“Why don’t you put it in your pack and we can see what it is after we make camp.  All right?”  The elder elf answered.

Anarandil nodded and did the elf lord’s bidding.  This accomplished, Legolas was finally able to take that much anticipated step through the gates.

Seeing the look on Legolas’s face, Anarandil ventured a question.  “So your Highness, do you feel any different?”

“What?”  Legolas had not really been paying attention to his companions.

“Do you feel different now that you have left the palace?”  Anarandil shyly smiled.

Legolas laughed.  “Was I that obvious?”

Looking embarrassed, Anarandil replied, “Well, yes you were.”

Legolas quickly reassured his new friend.  “To answer your question Anarandil, yes I guess I do feel a little different.  May I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything your Highness!”

“That’s just it,” Legolas responded.  “I don’t want to be “royalty” with you, I want us to be friends.  Can’t you just call me Legolas and drop all the titles?  This will be all right won’t it, Lord Isál?”

The elf lord had been just watching the two get to know each other when the question was presented to him.

“Yes Legolas, except when you are on royal duty, he may drop the formality.  It is a balance the two of you will have to work out.  Anarandil, is this something you are comfortable with?”  Isál watched his other charge with curiosity.

“On one condition,” Anarandil responded.  “All my friends in Lorien called me Randil, so if you will do that, I will drop the formality.”

“Deal,” Legolas agreed as he reached out his hand and the two shook on it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the palace the topic of Legolas and Anarandil was spreading like wildfire.  The major thread of conversation was of shock and disbelief that a member of the royal family would choose a Lothlorien elf as his companion when he had such excellent Greenwood elves to choose from.

It was Rowyn and Anaran who heard the varied comments and with each one they became more impressed with the choice their younger brother had made.

“He could have picked our Unoriand,” said one disgruntled Ammë.

“Yes,” whispered Rowyn to Anaran, “but wasn’t he the one who started the unPrince of Greenwood comment?”

“Our Belithraldor will be a much better warrior than that Anarandil ever will,” said another.

Anaran actually snorted at this.  “Belithraldor still cannot hit the short target in his archery, his warrior skills are still in question.”

“I don’t understand why the young prince didn’t pick our Gil-Ganduil,” yet another adoring Ammë said.  “The two always played together when they were younger, and Gil-Ganduil said he could not wait for Legolas to join the rest of them.”

The two brothers looked at each other and broke into fits of laughter after hearing this comment, gaining themselves several questioning looks from those nearby.

“Gil-Ganduil can’t stand Legolas,” Rowyn unnecessarily told his brother.

“Yes,” agreed Anaran.  “He only tolerated Legolas to appease his parents or so I’ve heard him say on many an occasion when he didn’t know I was around.”

They continued to hear comments all through that day and could now understand why it was that Legolas picked the young Lothlorien elf.

“Anarandil was the only intelligent choice he could have made,” Rowyn said.  “He was also unwanted by his peers which puts him and Legolas on even ground.  He also never had the chance to betray Legolas’s friendship.”

“I agree,” Anaran responded.  “You must also admit that his name is an excellent one.”  Anaran ducked the playful punch his brother threw at him.

They laughed as they headed back to the barracks, both wanting the chance to get to know their younger brother for they had decided that he was wise beyond his years.  They were enjoying their time so much that they missed another comment from a pair that was watching them.

“Let Legolas have his little Lorien friend, neither one of them will ever be wanted or accepted as warriors of Greenwood the Great.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Isál led his charges for about an hour, enjoying their banter and the camaraderie that was slowly starting to develop between the two.  He stopped and eyed a tree then turned to the boys.  “Who can tell me what kind of tree this is?”

Legolas and Randil looked at each other then both answered at the same time.  “That’s an oak tree.”

“Yes it is,” Isál agreed.  “But what kind of oak?  Do you know the two different groups of oak trees?”

This time the boys just stared at each other then turned back to their teacher with blank looks on their faces.

Isál smiled at the boys and started to explain.  “Oak trees fall into two categories, the black and the white.  The black oaks are characterized by leaves with sharp-tipped lobes and by acorns that mature in two years; smooth-lobed leaves and acorns that mature in one year characterize the white oaks.  So which one is this?”

Each of the young boys picked up a leaf and studied it.  Excitedly they both called out the answer.  “This is a white oak tree!”

“Very good!  It is important to understand your environment and be able to recognize the plants and animals in your midst.  One day I will leave you both in the middle of a forest with no provisions and you will be able to survive because you will know what to look for.”  He watched their eyes get big.  “That is in the future, for now we will go back to the tree.  This particular white oak is a cork oak tree.  The bark is used as stoppers in wine bottles among other things.  Of course the acorns of the oak trees are also edible.”

Isál then leaned into the tree as if he were listening.  He motioned for both the boys to join him.  “Can either of you tell me what the tree is saying?”

As the boys were getting their first lesson in understanding the trees, they all would have been surprised to know that they were being watched.  Unbeknownst to them, they had walked close to the clearing where two human’s in their mid twenty’s were waiting patiently for the herd of deer that regularly passed this way to get to their watering hole.  They were both staring in astonishment at Legolas and one of their faces had drained of all color.

His face soon went from white to red as his anger rose and he notched an arrow.  He had been told that the elf responsible for all those unthinkable things done to his sister was dead, but the face had been imprinted on his mind and this was the same elf.

Isál stood up from the tree and looked around.  “Danger is near!” he exclaimed.

His warning was too late, for an arrow was already on its way, heading straight for Legolas’ heart.

Chapter 5 – Sacrifice

Randil did not even think before he threw himself at Legolas and took the arrow in his back, protecting the prince.  Isál had his own bow notched quicker then the eye could see and was searching the trees in the direction the arrow had come from.

“Put down your bow elf or we will shoot again, and this time we will not miss our target.”

Isál glanced down to Legolas who indicated that Randil’s wound did not look good.

“What do you want?”  Isál asked, not yet lowering his bow.

“We want the prince,” came the dreaded response.

Isál was about to respond when Legolas interrupted.  “Lord Isál,” he said.  “If Randil does not receive treatment soon, he will die.  I will not have his life forfeited to save my own, nor will I have his Ammë put through another loss.”

“I will not leave you at the mercy of these humans, your Highness, I know what they are capable of.”  Isál objected strongly.

“If you do not leave then we all three will most likely die,” Legolas stood his ground firmly, “and I surely hope you will not abandon me.  Get Randil back to the palace then come after me, I will stay alive by sheer will if need be.”

Isál knew that this was the only choice if Randil was to live, so he scooped the young elf into his arms, knowing that he could make it back to the palace in short time, for they had been strolling leisurely and he could run the entire way.

“I would have been honored to call you son, your Highness.”  The elf lord bowed his head in respect.

“You have treated me more as a son in one day then my Adar has my whole life,” Legolas paused with the emotions he felt.  “Please take my pack with you, for I would hate to lose that which I have just received.”

Nodding in understanding, Isál took the pack and Legolas watched his retreating form as the humans made their way out of the trees.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

It took about half an hour for the elf lord to make it back to the gate of Greenwood.  He was of course spotted and recognized, so he was able to enter the gates without breaking his stride and headed straight for the healing halls.

“Elariand,” Isál greeted the healer.  “This is Anarandil, the arrow is of human make, he took it saving the prince’s life, do not let him die.”

Elriowiel and Delérith rushed to the healing hall, for they had heard of Isál’s return carrying an injured student.  Seeing her son being treated by the healer, Delérith rushed to his side, the Queen turned to the elf lord, stopping him in his tracks.

“Where is my son?”  She questioned.

He was just about to respond when Thranduil came down the hall.

Lord Isál put up his hand to staunch the flow of questions that could almost be seen on the King’s lips.

“Anarandil took an arrow for Legolas and it is quite serious.”  The elf lord started.  “Legolas acted in the noblest of fashions and refused to let his friend die for him.  I am heading out now to track him, for I believe the humans who attacked us believe Legolas to be Teril.”

Isál knew this was distressing news and was not surprised to see the color drain from both Thranduil’s and Elriowiel’s faces.

“Do not fear my liege, I will bring him back safely, for if I cannot I will banish myself for my failure.”  He paused to let this sink in.  “Now your Majesty, if you wish to travel with me, or send some warriors with me, I will be in the stables and I will leave in fifteen minutes.”

Isál then took his leave and headed straight for the stables to prepare his horse, Sulrevia, to chase after the missing prince.  He was not surprised when Thranduil joined him, for whether or not he spoke with Legolas the young elf was still royalty and Thranduil’s son.  Isál was surprised, however, when both Rowyn and Anaran joined them in the stables.

Thranduil looked at them both.  He determined that they would probably not stay behind even if ordered, and nodded his head in approval for their company.

The four, accompanied by twenty elven warriors, headed out of the gates to rescue Legolas from the hands of his human captors.

~~~~~~~~~~

As Legolas watched the elf lord carrying his friend away, the prince could feel the humans come up behind him.

“I do not know how you survived Teril, but you will not live this time,” one of the humans threatened.

Legolas’ blood ran cold at the mention of his eldest brother, for he had also heard the rumors.

“Addramyr, this is not Teril, I assure you it is not,” the second human claimed.

“And how would you know that he is not who I claim he is Owanry?”  Addramyr turned on his friend.  “Look at him, this is the same elf that, that, that did those things to my sister.  Zerraweth did not live long after he and his friends got through with her.”

*So the rumors were true,* Legolas thought to himself.  *Teril was different and cruel just like I had heard he was.*  With this knowledge came the realization that he might be in serious danger.

“I saw the bodies Addramyr,” Owanry actually looked like he might be sick.  “Do you know what they did to Teril and his friends?  The note they sent back with the bodies?”  At the mention of this, Owanry did get sick, he turned and heaved his last meal into the bushes.

Addramyr pretended to be helping his friend as he pulled some rope from his pack, which he used to tie up Owanry as soon as he finished.

“I don’t care what you think Owanry,” Addramyr said with madness glinting in his eyes.  “Teril or not, this elf will pay for what was done to my sister for I found where it all happened.  The cave they tortured Zerraweth in still has everything there, every item that was used to leave a mark on her body.”  Anger flared in Addramyr’s eyes at the memory.  “And I vividly remember each mark for it will be imprinted on my mind forever.”

“You can’t just leave me here Addramyr!  There are predators in the woods!”  Owanry was starting to panic!

But Addramyr did not answer as he bound Legolas and led the elf towards Teril’s cave, finally getting the chance to exact revenge upon the race that caused his sister’s death.

“Addramyr!  Addramyr, come back here!”  Owanry cried out.

But Addramyr had already put Owanry out of his mind.  Legolas had not, he could still hear the other human screaming as he was dragged towards the cave.

“ADDRAMYR!!!”

Chapter 6 – Unlikely Allies

Legolas soon found out that the cave was not very far from the clearing where they had left Owanry, as he could still pick up the screams coming from the terrified human.  He silently prayed that the young man would quiet down so he would not draw the attention of the wild animals of the forest to him, but knew that it would probably not happen.  He continued his prayer, asking for his mentor’s quick return; not only for himself, but for the human also, Lord Isál would surely release him from his bonds.

Legolas, being so caught up in his thoughts, did not notice at first that they had arrived at their destination.  Addramyr pushed him towards a copse of trees that held no entrance that Legolas could detect.  He raised his hands to protect himself from the branches, and the scratches they would likely inflict, when he finally noticed the opening that he was being ushered into.

‘My eyes must be playing tricks on me,’ Legolas thought.

If he had been given the opportunity, he would have stepped back and looked again from a distance, for he was convinced that his elven eyes should have been able to detect the opening from further back.  He was denied the opportunity as Addramyr hastily shoved Legolas the rest of the way in, making sure that no one was around to see that they had just accomplished what appeared to be impossible.

The young prince found himself in a small, circular clearing with a very large and ancient tree standing in the direct center.  It was black and the bark appeared rough, pocked almost, as if inflicted with some disease.  Legolas sucked in his breath, for the very presence of this tree made his body shudder and his skin crawl.  He could feel the evil that emanated, and could not understand how any elf could bear to in the presence of this tree.  It occurred to him to wonder how this tree could be so close to his home and not be felt.

His train of thought was distracted when Addramyr reached up and touched a knot on the tree, which caused an opening to appear and Legolas’ eyes to widen.  When his captor grabbed him once again and pushed him towards the opening, Legolas was sure he heard the tree laugh as he resisted with all his might.

Having not spoken once since leaving the clearing, Legolas found his voice now.  “I am not going into that tree!” he practically shouted.

Addramyr laughed at the frightened elf, a wickedness gleaming in his eyes.  “You will do what I say,” the human threatened as he pulled out his knife and pointed it towards the young prince.

Observing the knife as the sun flashed off the blade, sending a medley of colors dancing through the clearing, Legolas knew he would gladly plunge that knife through his own heart and walk the Halls of Mandos then willingly cross the threshold to a slow, torturous death.

He had no time to act, as the clearing seemed to shrink, steering Legolas closer and closer to the ‘mouth’ of the tree, forcing him to enter the gaping maw, being swallowed into blackness so tangible he could actually feel it on his skin.  Darkness so impenetrable, the very fabric of his being seemed to unravel, leaving him in despair.

**********

Owanry could not believe Addramyr would do this to him, they had been best friends since childhood, sharing boyhood secrets, first crushes, even stealing their fathers weed and having their first smoke together.  He knew his friend had not been the same since his sister’s death, for Zerraweth had been the light of their family.  But he couldn’t understand why he put his best friends life at risk for the folly of torturing this elf.

Screaming Addramyr’s name over and over, Owanry was hoping this was all a really sick joke and that his friend would come to his senses and return.  Relief washed over him when he heard a noise coming from the direction the human and elf had headed in.

“It’s about time Addramyr, this really wasn’t a very funny joke.  Now untie me so we can get home for dinner,” he called.

Owanry was about to say more when his face drained of all color and he watched in horror as a huge brown bear entered the clearing.  Its large eyes focused in on the human, who could only stare back in mute terror as the large mammal slowly approached.

**********

Isál led the party that departed the gates of Greenwood, followed closely by King Thranduil and his sons, with the warriors keeping watch from the rear.  Knowing it would not take long to reach the clearing where he had left his charge, his blood ran cold when a piercing scream could be heard on the wind.

Without saying a word, Lord Isál urged his horse forward and entered the clearing so quickly, he could barely keep his seat as his horse reared up at the sight of the bear.  Standing to it’s full height, the bear let out an angered roar, letting everyone in the vicinity know he was not happy having his playtime interrupted.  King Thranduil and the others had approached with more caution, and halted their steeds at the edge of the clearing, having heard the ferocious growl.  The bear turned out to be all bark and no bite as he gave one last swipe to the unconscious human and lumbered back into the woods.

Isál quickly dismounted his horse and approached the young human the bear had been toying with.  Checking for injuries, Isál found none and came to the conclusion that this is who they had heard screaming and that the young man had passed out from fear, not injury.

Grabbing his water bag, Lord Isál tossed the liquid into the young man’s face, bringing Owanry back to a waking state.  Owanry took one look at the company of elves and thought that he would rather have the bear back then answer the questions he knew would be asked.

As the Elf Lord bent down to free the young man from his bonds, the sound of more horses could be heard approaching the clearing.  Soon Isál found himself and the young man in the middle of a very bad situation, for a group of humans had entered the clearing, instantly drawing their weapons when they saw an elf bending over one of their own.  This of course brought the elven bows up with arrows being notched as the weapons were raised.

“Your Majesty, please have the warriors lower their weapons,” Isál spoke slowly to the king while helping the young man he had just untied stand up.  “This is all a misunderstanding, let us speak with one another and not have anymore tragedy here today.”

“Father”, Owanry spoke up, “he is correct, he was helping to untie me.  The elf did not cause me any harm, nor did he ever have the intention of doing so.”

Rercyn looked at his son, then looked back up to the elves.  “King Thranduil,” he acknowledged the elven leader with contempt in his voice.

“Rercyn”, Thranduil spoke back, keeping his emotions in check.

The tension in the clearing could have been cut with a fine elven blade as Owanry once again tried to explain.  “Father please, he was not the one who tied me up.”  Owanry’s anger rose as he continued.  “Addramyr did it father, he has gone mad.”

Rercyn turned his attention back to his son, angry.  “Where is Addramyr?  Why would he do that to you my son?”

Owanry sighed deeply, but began to explain all that had transpired that day.  Lord Isál listened carefully and quietly consented that the boy spoke the truth.  When the son finally explained to his father about Addramyr finding Teril’s cave, fear passed through elf and human alike at what could happen to the elven prince.

Letting his son’s words seep in, Rercyn turned back to the Elven King.  “The debt of your eldest was repaid, I will not let this same tragedy happen in reverse.”  Motioning for his son to mount up behind him, Rercyn made sure his son was uninjured before speaking again.  “Which way did they go my son?”

Owanry did not get a chance to answer, for Isál had already studied the tracks, and passing his horse’s reins to one of the warriors, he slowly walked in the direction that Legolas had been led.  Rowyn and Anaran joined him but they were not really needed, for Addramyr had not been interested in covering his tracks.

As soon as the copse of trees came into view, Isál stopped dead in his tracks, Rowyn and Anaran following suit.

“Why did you stop?”  Rercyn questioned.

He was surprised when no answer was forthcoming.  Looking to the elves, he was unprepared to see them all fixated on the very spot the tracks led to.

“King Thranduil, is there some difficulty?”  The irritated human asked.

The king finally spoke, but never once took his eyes off the trees.  “Did any of you other then this Addramyr find where,” Thranduil paused as if what he was about to say would cause him pain.  “Where my son did the things he did.”  It was all he could say, and the closest admission of Teril’s guilt any of the warriors had ever heard escape from their kings lips.

“No,” Rercyn answered.  “Do you think we have found it?”

“Yes,” Thranduil replied.  “I’ve only experienced the kind of evil emanating from that grove of trees once in my entire existence.”  Thranduil sighed when he thought of the evil that lay dormant, biding its time, thanks to the weakness of men.  “I was not aware it had a seed in this forest.”  He paused for a moment, wondering how Teril had come upon this influence, convinced that this could be the only explanation for what his eldest son had done.  “I will not let whatever is concealed behind those trees have another of my sons.”

Chapter 7 – Horrific Revelations

Not one elf in the group of warriors questioned the king’s use of the word son.  Though many of them had been surprised when he had joined the search for the youngest royal, now was not the time to think of such things.  An evil was present that needed to be destroyed and Prince Legolas needed to be saved, if at all possible.

Many of the elves and men alike approached the circle of trees to search for an opening.  Every time they stepped away disappointed, each one declaring that they were sure they heard a voice calling out to them, not a voice pleading to be rescued, but a voice trying to lure them in.  So disturbing was the voice, many refused to go near the circle of trees again.

King Thranduil and Rercyn continued to discuss how they might be able to penetrate the trees when someone hollered out Owanry’s name.  The two leaders looked up to see him approaching the trees with a torch, all watching in shock as he ignited the protective ring.

Shouts were heard as several of the group rushed forward in a vain attempt to stop Owanry.  Silence soon reigned as the circle of trees was quickly engulfed in the flames.  Whatever sorcery had been protecting the spot vanished in the ash being carried away on the breeze, revealing the hideous tree now standing unprotected, many of it’s branches also ablaze.

Isál was the first to react, rushing forward, trying to see where the tracks led; vainly attempting to see if his charge was between the burning circle and the monstrosity that had been planted within.  It was to no avail as the intense heat caused him, and all others who attempted a similar venture, to retreat from the fire.  There was no other option but to let it burn, let it burn and sift through the ashes for any remains.

**********

Like a drone, Legolas followed the path downward, for the darkness, it appeared, had thoroughly consumed him.  Addramyr did not say a word as he watched his captive, making sure no harm came to him.  He needed the elf to be uninjured to get the pleasure he craved.

They soon reached what Addramyr called Teril’s cave and awareness once again flooded Legolas as he stepped into the light filled cavern, only to be jarred at the dire circumstances he now found himself in.

The cavern was crammed full of apparatus and instruments so menacing, so sinister, that Legolas did not even want to venture a guess at their use.  He visibly gulped when his mind ventured, without his permission, to show him what their possible uses could have on his body.

Legolas was led to a metal cage and was roughly shoved inside, being forced to his knees to avoid hitting his head on the rough unfinished edges.  Still bound, Legolas found himself unable to move as Addramyr closed the door and the space closed in on the elf.  Legolas visibly paled.  His captor laughed as he walked over to a crank and, as it started to turn, Legolas felt himself rise into the air.

Satisfied his prisoner was secure, Addramyr spoke once again.  “I could easily put you to death your Highness,” the words spat from the young man’s mouth.  “But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?  I want you to know what it is like to see another suffer, just as I witnessed what your brother did to my sister.”

Legolas was pretty sure now that Addramyr had always known he was not Teril and had put on the act for the other human.  He wondered what Addramyr had meant about watching another suffer, but did not have to wait long for an answer.

Legolas watched the human’s every move as he crossed to the other side of the chamber, returning with an elf maiden.  He did not know her.  If she was from Greenwood, he had never met her, but that mattered not.  She was still innocent in all of this and she did not deserve what was about to happen, what Legolas was incapable of preventing.

It struck Legolas then that Zerraweth, Addramyr’s sister, did not deserve what Teril did to her either, but that did not make this sick display of revenge appropriate.

“Addramyr,” Legolas pleaded, “you cannot do this.  She has no connection to my family, take me and set her free.”

“She is an elf!”  The words echoed through the chamber as if this was explanation enough.

Legolas decided to not say another word, he did not wish to anger his captor further and cause the she-elf more pain then necessary, knowing that nothing he said would change the twisted mind of Addramyr.

Legolas had been forced to grow up quickly in many ways, but he had still retained some of his innocence.  There were things about the world he was clueless to the existence of, things all parents try to shield their children from.  Watching in horror, what remained of his innocence was stripped away with every article of clothing removed from the elf maiden.  The last vestige of his innocence appeared in the form of a single tear silently leaving a trail down a porcelain cheek.  The blue eyes of the elf, once full of youthful joy, were now burning orbs of fury as Addramyr forcibly took the elf maiden, only the first on his list of what he planned to do.

**********

King Thranduil’s company stood on one side of the fire, while Rercyn’s men stood on the other.  None were speaking as their eyes were glued to what remained of the ancient evil tree, its protective circle having turned to ash quite quickly.  No one had yet to spot a body and they were all at a loss as to how the two they were seeking had vanished.

Each was lost in his own thoughts while minute after minute passed by, as if the stubborn tree was giving Addramyr all the time he desired to do his worst.

Lord Isál stood alone, still the closest to the fire, willing to give up his life if the need should arise.  He blamed himself for all that had transpired, for he had not expected any ill to befall them and had let his guard down, excited in once again teaching the young.  Legolas reminded him of his only son, his only child and Isál was more then prepared to step up to the task of being the father figure, for he felt that Legolas was destined for greatness.  He loved his king dearly, but felt that Thranduil was a fool to have neglected his son for so many years.

Thranduil’s thoughts would have surprised Isál, for he was also calling himself a fool, but for different reasons.  He had blamed himself for years because the evil that was in Teril must have come from him.  He was now convinced that it was an outside evil and that Teril never would have done horrific things had this influence not been present.  Concluding that, he feared that the evil would now take his youngest from him before he had the chance to start a relationship with him.  Hopefully Legolas could forgive him, giving Thranduil the chance to make up for all they have missed.

He was only partly correct in his thinking however, for this evil, the evil that was present in the tree only allowed into its company those with the same desires, both Teril and Addramyr were kindred spirits.

Rowyn and Anaran would not be surprised at their Adar’s thoughts; they were thinking the same thing.  They vowed to each other with just a simple look that if Legolas were found alive, they would do their part to include him in the family; something they had not done for fear of their Ada’s wrath.

On the other side of the clearing, Rercyn’s thoughts turned to Addramyr’s family and how difficult it would be to tell them another of their children was dead.  Looking at his son, he vowed to spend more time with Owanry and his other children, showering them with love and more thoroughly preparing them for the evils that exist on the middle-earth.

They were all pulled from their individual thoughts as the tree exploded into flames, sending everyone back.  It was as if the tree had given up on its survival and was finally accepting the inevitable.  It quickly burned, revealing a gaping hole in the ground.

**********

As Legolas witnessed one torture method after another, thankful that the elf maiden had lost consciousness some time ago, he had to endure Addramyr giving details as to how Teril inflicted the same on his sister.

Legolas had never felt anything more then indifference towards Teril, choosing not to blame the dead brother he had never met for all the sorrow in his life.  This all changed as he was forced to witness the sins being perpetuated for the soul purpose of revenge.

Anger surged through his being like a wildfire running rampant in a forest.  The sadistic cruelty and bloodlust was beyond anything Legolas had ever imagined.  He was trying to fathom how any being could be so coldhearted when a nagging little thought finally slapped Legolas in the face.  His Adar wanted nothing to do with him because he looked like Teril.  Legolas’ brain finally took the last leap to what he had tried to avoid most of his life, if he looked like Teril, he must be like Teril.

As Legolas’ internal temperature kept rising, neither he nor Addramyr noticed the temperature rising in the cavern, until it was too late.  As the gaping hole was revealed in the ground above, the entire cavern began to collapse.

The cage Legolas was suspended in was violently dropped to the ground as the ceiling gave way, ripping the door from its hinges, giving the young elf a fleeting taste of freedom.  The last thing Legolas saw before the cave was thrown into darkness was Addramyr being impaled upon one of his own instruments.  His last thoughts were of guilt, as the maiden’s echoing screams of pain repeated over and over in his head.

Those up above had just decided who would venture into the hole when the ground gave way, collapsing into the chamber below.

Thanks must be given to my new beta Quinn for doing an excellent job.  Also to all of you who kept on me about continuing this, I appreciate your encouragement.

Coonzalas – LOL  Thanks for reading!  But give poor Thranduil a chance I swear he will come around.

Sparx – And I’m so sorry it takes me forever to update.  Thank you so much for all your support and kind words.

Andunea – Credit goes to you for lighting a fire under my backside.  Thanks for your review, it inspired me to pick this up and write again.

Now on to the chapter, I hope you enjoy and review.

Songbird

Chapter 8 – Saying Goodbye

King Thranduil’s outcry of unmitigated sadness and painful regret echoed through the dense cloud of dust and soot induced by the massive amounts of earth converging.

Elf and man alike bowed their heads, many dropped to a knee, in reverence of the dead.  An imposing silence penetrated many to the core, when out of the stillness arose a voice of single purpose.

Tranquil was the lament of Lord Isál as his lyric testified to the life of Legolas, elfling prince of Greenwood the Great.  His melody so pure, the humans could feel the meaning of the words.  Melody gave way to harmony, as Lord Isál’s tenor soared through the air, uniting with the bass voice of another.  Two voices became three as a baritone blended with the tune.  Within minutes, all the warriors of Greenwood lent voice in tribute to an immortal soul lost too soon, their chorus so magnificent the very skies began to weep.

The deluge would not deter the stoic elves from their valediction to the young prince.  Each warrior uttered silent prayers to the Valar that their homage would guide Legolas to the great Halls of Mandos where he would be admitted and welcomed by others whose lights had been extinguished too soon, many of whom had been his heroes.

It was only after a fitting tribute was paid that the crescendo of their melodic eulogy abated, the echo of each voice sailing with the wind until once again only Isál’s voice could be heard.

King Thranduil stood, pulling his cloak tightly around himself, as if that single piece of cloth contained all the regal bearing he would need to make it through this tragedy.  The King spoke briefly with Rercyn, then both companies retreated from the empty sadness of the clearing.  The king spoke to no one else as he led his warriors home.

Lord Isál lingered a moment longer, the failure evident in his eyes.  Rising, he mounted his horse, riding behind the company, knowing that he would carry out the banishment upon himself.  He had given his word to his king that Legolas would be safe and his failure would haunt him throughout his immortal life.

**********

Dawn broke with a palpable sadness.  Randil, still recovering in the Halls of Healing, took a deep breath as he tried to release his pent-up frustrations.  He did not wish to be coddled; he wanted to be out there searching for Legolas.  His next breath caught in his throat as he thought of losing his best and only friend before the adventures of their lives had really begun.

Elariand entered the room not long after, smiling at Randil, a knowing look in his eye.  Approaching the bed, the healer checked the restless young warrior’s progress.  The wound could have been fatal had it not been treated, but the healer was now convinced of a complete recovery.

“Anarandil, I see no reason for you to remain in convalescence.  If you would kindly hold onto the tiny string of patience you have left, I’ll send for your Ammë and you may return to your home.  You must however continue to rest and come see me everyday so I can check your progress.”

Randil nodded his head eagerly and the healer laughed at the look on his young patient’s face.  He sent word to inform Randil’s Ammë that she was welcome to take him home.

Knowing he still needed to rest and take it easy, his Ammë had tried to keep from him all that she knew, but it was to no avail.  Animosity was still elevated against the young Lothlorien elf, but his loyalty could not be questioned, as he was the first to the gates when it was reported that the rescue party was returning.  As a crowd gathered around him, he ignored them all, waiting for a glimpse of his friend.

The gates slowly opened, and with each inch Randil could feel a vice gripping his heart.  *Why are the warriors so quiet?*  Randil thought to himself.

As the king entered the gates, his head held high, Randil knew.  He watched in terror as the warriors passed and the crowd stood in anguished astonishment.  Sinking to his knees, Randil watched as Lord Isál entered last, the look on his master’s face solidifying what he did not need to be told.  Legolas was dead.

**********

Elriowiel and Tiniwiel watched from the palace as the company progressed through the gates.  Elriowiel was sincerely surprised that Legolas was not present, her heart recoiling from the implications.  Clutching the hand of her daughter, they hastened to the throne room, the visage of each present burning into Elriowiel’s very being.  “Legolas?”  Her eyes pleaded with her husband.  She reached out, placing a shaking hand on his chest.  “Thranduil, where is my son?”

Thranduil signaled for the room to empty.  Bowing in respect to their king, their departure was swift, not one of them registering the significance of the moment.  For the first time since Teril’s death and Legolas’ birth, the entire royal family stood in one room, together but not united.

Thranduil’s eyes were deep pools of pain as he met his wife’s gaze.  “I am so sorry.”

“Damn you.”  She pounded her fists into his chest.  “You always hated him and you let him die.”

The words pierced his heart, but he did not blame her for them.  He did not willingly let Legolas die, nor did he ‘hate’ his youngest son.  But in his heart, he knew that he was not the Adar his son deserved.

“No love, I did not let him die.”  He looked once again into her tear-filled eyes his own tears blurring his vision.  “Even if I had ‘hated’ him as you say, I would have sacrificed my life for his, just so you would be happy.”

As she collapsed into his arms, heartbroken once again, Rowyn and Anaran stood in the shadows, also feeling a deep sense of guilt for having not given Legolas a chance.  Tiniwiel sat in a crumpled heap on the floor, tormented by the loss of the brother she held so dear.

**********

Word spread quickly through the gathered masses as to all that had transpired.  Soon the words ‘Teril’ and ‘human’ were once again heard and the old tragedy was afresh with new speculation.

No one gave heed to the outsider still on his knees at the great gates, unmoving and unwanted.  None of the gossip around him penetrated his pain until he heard mention of Lord Isál and the imminent banishment.

*So I will lose my teacher also,* his thoughts whirled in his head.  *But they did not bring back a body.  Maybe, just maybe.*

Deciding his course of action, Randil quickly slipped out the massive gates.  He was quite certain his disappearance would go unnoticed by all but one, and sadly, he was correct.  The one, however, had been watching him, keeping distance and vigil, knowing her young son would be making the decisions far beyond his years.  She wasn’t surprised as she watched him leave.

The rain had not diminished the trail left by the horses and it seemed to beckon him forward.  His own safety was of no concern as he followed the path, his need to find his friend drawing him out of the protection of his home.