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A Question of Duty  by daw the minstrel

5. Aftermath of the Council 

 

(October 25, 3018 TA, afternoon)

 

Legolas emerged from the council and made immediately for a secluded corner of the garden where he could pace in privacy.  He needed time to reacquire his equilibrium before he and his companions prepared to depart.  The meeting had been worse, far worse, than he had anticipated. As speaker after speaker had risen, the depth of Middle-Earth’s plight had become more and more evident.  He had become painfully aware of Gondor’s lonely struggle, of the efforts of Aragorn and Mithrandir to prevent catastrophe, and of the astounding courage of Frodo and Sam as they volunteered to take the ring to Mordor.  And the potential consequences of Mirkwood’s failure to hold Gollum had become clear.

 

Aragorn’s words burned in his brain: “How came the folk of Thranduil to fail in their trust?”  At that moment in the council, his pleasant companion of the previous two days had disappeared and a stern judge had stood in his place.  Legolas could see in him the Chieftain and future king that Elrond had said he was. He had made what explanation he could, but in the face of what he had heard, the plea that they had only been overly kind seemed pointless.  He thanked the Valar for Mithrandir’s pacifying words which had gone a long way toward lessening his anger at the wizard for forcing this shameful situation upon him.

 

Moreover, he found to his surprise that he was angry at Elrond.  Elrond had refused to say where the three Elven rings of power were, but one did not have to guess too wildly to see a link between the peace of Imladris and its lord’s possession of a ring.  No wonder Imladris was serene while Mirkwood suffered, Legolas thought bitterly. He did not know why he blamed Elrond for Mirkwood’s grief, but somehow he did. He was sick of this place, he told himself.  It was time to go home.

 

He drew a deep breath.  He would need to find his three companions soon. They had undoubtedly heard that the council was over and would be eager to be on their way.  He suddenly became aware that footsteps were approaching his refuge, and his ears told him who it was that approached. Turning, he found himself face to face with Aragorn. They regarded one another in silence for a moment.

 

Finally Aragorn spoke. “Elrond has set me a task, Legolas, and I ask your help in doing it.”

 

Legolas blinked.  He had expected a reproach, not a request for aid. “You believe that I could help you?” he asked.

 

Aragorn nodded.  “Searchers have found three of the Black Riders’ horses drowned in the ford.  Elrond has asked that his sons and I go at once to explore the rapids below it to see if we can find signs of the other six.  If the Riders are without their horses, they will be long in returning to Mordor and then coming here again to search for the Ringbearer.  But if the other six are still waiting for him outside the borders of Imladris, then he cannot set out.  We need to be sure, and your experience with the Nazgűl may help us in our search.”

 

Legolas considered briefly and then spoke.  “I will come.  Indeed I count it as an opportunity to atone in some small part for the loss of Gollum.”

 

Aragorn grimaced.  “I spoke in haste at the council,” he said.  “None could have foreseen what happened.”  He turned the topic. “Come then. We go at once,” he said and turned to go, but Legolas stopped him.

 

“I must speak to my warriors first,” he said.  “I will be brief.”

 

Aragorn frowned.  “Very well, but hurry.  Now that Frodo’s mission has been decided, Elrond wishes to clear his path as quickly as possible.  If we cannot find an answer at the rapids, we will need to send scouting parties, and Elrond wishes them to be underway by tomorrow at the latest.  There is scarce time left today to do what is needful.  Meet me and the sons of Elrond at the stables as quickly as you can.” He started off one path and Legolas took another.

 

Legolas found his warriors in their quarters, packing their belongings.

 

“We will be ready momentarily,” said Beliond.

 

“You must abide a while yet,” said Legolas firmly.  “I am going with Aragorn and the sons of Elrond to search for further news of the Nazgűl. You remember that the guard told us that they had tried the Ford of Bruinen two nights before we arrived.”

 

Beliond’s eyes flashed.  “Legolas, what are you thinking?  I cannot believe that you are being led to forget your obligations to Mirkwood and to your father by this Man’s stories of adventure.”

 

The morning had been stressful, and Legolas lost his grip on his normally even temper.  “You forget to whom you are speaking,” he snapped, and the other three were startled to see his sudden resemblance to Thranduil.  “Events are under way that you know nothing of, and no one who cares for Middle-Earth can fail to act now if they are able.”

 

Beliond glared at him for a moment and then lowered his eyes but not before Legolas had seen the pain mixed with the anger in them. “I beg your pardon, my lord,” Beliond said stiffly.

 

Legolas cringed inwardly in sudden guilt.  Beliond had supported him through the terrors of his first battles and guided him through the uncertainties of his first command.  Legolas knew that Beliond’s devotion to him was not just a matter of duty but was also an expression of affection and pride in Legolas’s accomplishments.  And he also knew that Thranduil would still hold Beliond accountable if his youngest son went astray. It was only natural that Beliond should express his concern now.

 

“My errand should be finished by tonight,” he said more gently, “and tomorrow I will be free to go.  I will tell you of what went on at the council on the way home.  Some of what I learned concerns Mirkwood closely, and Adar will need to be told as soon as possible.”

 

Beliond still looked unhappy, but he nodded grudgingly.  Amdir and even Annael were both looking at him warily.  When the ghost of Thranduil slipped over Legolas’s form, even his friends trod carefully.

 

“I will return as soon as I can,” he assured them and then set out for the stables, where he found Aragorn, Elladan, and Elrohir waiting impatiently for him. He had barely led his horse from the stable before the other three set off at a rapid trot for the Ford of the Bruinen.  He kneed his horse and caught up, riding behind Elrohir as they made their way up a steep trail out of the valley and then along ridges leading southwest.  After a journey of perhaps two hours, Elladan called a halt and they approached the ford more slowly, allowing the Imladris guards to emerge from the surrounding woods.

 

“Mae govannen, my lords,” one of the guards greeted them.

 

“Mae govannen, Ęlsarn,” said Elladan.  “Has the search turned up anything more?”

 

“No, my lord,” the guard replied.

 

“We are going to search the rapids,” Elladan told him.  “Now that the flood has subsided, we may be able to spot signs of the Riders.  Can you send two of your fellows to help us?”

 

As Elladan and the guard were talking, Legolas shivered slightly in the brittle afternoon sunlight.  Uneasily, he scanned the banks of the river.  He became aware that Aragorn was watching him.

 

“What is it?” Aragorn asked.

 

“It is the Nazgűl,” Legolas said. “I can feel that they have been here.”

 

“Recently?” Aragorn’s tone was sharp.

 

Legolas shook his head. “Nay.  The feeling is faint.”

 

Elladan and the guard had now finished their parley. Accompanied by Elrohir, two of the guards began making their way across the ford to search the opposite river bank. Elladan, Aragorn, and Legolas picked their way down the river bank toward the rapids that lay some distance below the ford.  Legolas felt his uneasiness gradually growing and was aware that Aragorn was watching him.

 

At last, they halted and dismounted.  Aragorn organized the search.  “Spread out down the bank,” he said.  “Look for anything caught in the undergrowth along the edges and also scan any surfaces in the river itself upon which something might have lodged.” 

 

Across the river, they could see Elrohir organizing a similar search, although only one of the guards searched with him, while the other guard stood watching the woods with a nocked arrow.

 

Elladan began to search the area that was closest to the beginning of the rapids, while Aragorn trotted further downstream and Legolas searched still further.  They had been looking for only a few minutes before it became obvious that the receding waters of the flood had left the bodies of several horses.  The stench of death drew Legolas to an eddy along the bank just as he heard Elrohir shout from across the way that he, too, had spotted a body.  Legolas hesitated, looking at the swollen corpse before him.  He would not have wanted to touch the thing anyway, given its decomposed state.  But the creature’s association with a Rider meant that he was doubly loath to have contact with it.  Suddenly Aragorn was by his side, holding out a fallen branch.

 

“Help me push it out,” he said, wielding a branch of his own.  “We’ll let the river take it.”  The two of them nudged the body out into the current. “Are you all right?” Aragorn asked.  Legolas nodded silently.  Aragorn returned to his own part of the bank, and the two of them resumed searching.

 

All told, they found and disposed of five bloated corpses, which meant that eight of the Nine were accounted for.  They lingered into the dusk, searching further in the hopes of finding signs of the last Rider.  Aragorn had just shouted across to Elrohir, calling a halt to the search, when Legolas spotted something dark caught in the branches of a tree that had fallen into the edge of the river some ways below where he had been looking.  He shouted to his companions and then started toward the object.

 

As he drew near it, he saw, to his disappointment, that it was not another drowned horse, but some sort of cloth, perhaps a dark cloak.  He started to reach for the cloak and then suddenly drew back his hand.  A familiar icy terror flooded through his system, one that decades of effort had taught him to control.  Aragorn was suddenly beside him. “What is it?” he asked.

 

Legolas braced himself and reached again for the cloak, pulling it from the water and spreading it out before them. It was in shreds and contained nothing to mark who had worn it, but Legolas was in no doubt. 

 

“It belonged to one of the Riders,” he said and then flung the thing from him in disgust.  He wiped his hands on his tunic as if he had dipped them in something foul.

 

Aragorn looked curious and then picked up the tattered garment.  Elladan had now arrived.  “You can feel the presence of its owner?” he asked.  Legolas nodded. “I may feel somewhat colder when I touch it,” Aragorn said, “but nothing like what you evidently feel and nothing like what I feel in the presence of the Nazgűl themselves. Do you sense anything coming from this, Elladan?”

 

Elladan looked at Legolas and then at the cloak.  “I do not think so,” he said, although he drew back his hand quickly after touching the garment.

 

“Can your Mirkwood companions sense the Nazgűl like this too?” Aragorn asked.

 

“No, but my adar and my brothers can,” Legolas answered. “Adar says it has something to do with the havoc the Nazgűl have worked in Mirkwood and my family’s tie to the woods.”

 

Aragorn looked thoughtful.  “Come,” he said.  “It grows late and Elrond will be awaiting our news.”

 

Legolas could not have agreed more.  Getting away from this spot struck him as a very good idea.  He followed the other two to where they had left their horses and then rode with them back to the ford to meet Elrohir.  It was dark before they reached Imladris.  Aragorn went immediately to report the results of their search to Elrond, while the twins volunteered to take care of their horses and Legolas went to do his much delayed packing.

 

He was searching for his other pair of boots when a servant knocked and then entered his chamber with a tray of cold meat, bread, and wine.  They had been so late that they had missed evening meal, and Legolas was grateful for the food, for he suddenly realized that he had missed mid-day meal too and was very hungry.  The servant put the tray on a table and then said, “When you have finished eating, my lord, Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you in the library.”  He withdrew, closing the door behind him.

 

Legolas subsided wearily into a chair and began to eat.  He was glad for the summons from Elrond because he wished to ask for Elrond’s permission to tell Thranduil all that had passed at the council.  And of course, he needed to bid the Lord of Imladris good bye, for his party would undoubtedly be leaving early in the morning.  Beliond was probably not going to want to wait for daylight, Legolas thought with a small smile.

 

He ate quickly and was glad of the warming influence of the wine.  Then he set off for Elrond’s library, knocked, and was bidden to enter.  This evening, Elrond was seated at the table in the center of the room, with maps spread out before him.  “Come and sit down, Legolas,” he invited, and Legolas did so. He found that in Elrond’s presence, the resentment that he had felt immediately after the council disappeared.

 

“My lord,” Legolas began, “I wish to sure that I may tell all that passed at the council to my adar.”

 

“Of course you may,” said Elrond. “These are matters that Thranduil needs to know of. But Legolas, I have something else to ask of you, and if you grant my request, you may have to inform your father by messenger rather than in person.”

 

Legolas blinked. “What do you mean, my lord?” he asked cautiously.

 

“You know, of course, that Mithrandir and I want to be sure that the Nazgűl are not waiting to pounce on the Ringbearer the minute he steps out of Imladris,” Elrond began, and Legolas nodded.  “Because you and the other searchers found eight dead horses, we believe that those eight Riders will be making their way slowly back to Mordor.  But we cannot be certain they are not lingering, and we have no way to know what has become of the ninth Rider. Therefore, we are sending out search parties to seek for signs of them.  The party going north left as soon as we heard what you had found at the rapids.  Tomorrow, parties will leave in all the other directions.”  He gestured toward the maps on the table, and Legolas looked to see routes marked faintly on them.  He looked up at Elrond questioningly.

 

“Ordinarily,” Elrond went on, “I would expect that you and the other Mirkwood warriors would travel with the party going east, for I expect that they will go as far as Thranduil’s realm. The dwarves are going with them as they make their way to the Lonely Mountain.”

 

Now Legolas was really curious. “If you do not expect us to go east, my lord, then where do you expect us to go?” he asked.

 

“Aragorn has requested that I ask you to go west with him,” Elrond answered. “He will be joined by some of the Rangers of the North, whom he plans to meet at a point some little distance from here.”

 

Legolas was astonished at the request, but he knew immediately that he would agree to it.  For to his surprise and somewhat to his shame, his heart leapt with relief that he did not have to go home yet and would still be part of this great venture. The thought crossed his mind that Beliond knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.

 

Elrond went on with his explanation.  “He believes that your sensitivity to the presence of the Nazgűl will be of great help to him in his search.”

 

“My lord,” Legolas said formally, “I would be honored to accompany Aragorn on this venture.”  He spoke but the truth.  In the short time that he had known Aragorn, he had become fascinated by the Man’s wide experience of Middle-Earth. And he admired the unassuming determination with which Aragorn had worked for the defense of the helpless. He found that he wanted with all his heart to help the Man achieve his goals.

 

“Excellent,” Elrond smiled at Legolas’s ready agreement.  “Your companions may go with you or accompany the eastern scouting party,” he added, “whichever they choose.”

 

Legolas paused. His companions were going to need a considerable amount of explanation before he presented them with this choice, he thought.  Then he told himself that Mirkwood owed this aid to Aragorn who had pursued Gollum over half of Middle-Earth only to have Thranduil’s people lose him again.  He would remind his companions of that.

 

Elrond now rose and Legolas did too.  “You will probably want to write to your adar,” he said.  “Glorfindel is leading the eastern party.  You may give your letter to him.  I expect the remaining scouting parties will all leave early tomorrow, so I will not keep you from whatever preparations you need to make.”

 

“Thank you, Lord Elrond,” said Legolas, and with a bow, he left the room.

 

Outside the door, he paused, and then turned resolutely in the direction of the door leading outside and toward the barracks.  There was no point in putting off the inevitable.  He took the path toward the quarters of the Mirkwood warriors.  All three of them were sitting peacefully on the bench outside their door, enjoying the autumn evening.  Beliond rose as he approached.  “Ah,” he said, “you have news for us.”

 

“Yes,” said Legolas, “although I fear it is not the news you want to hear, Beliond. Sit down again, and I will tell you what has taken place today and what choice we have for tomorrow.”

 

Reluctantly Beliond sat again, and Legolas drew up a stool and sat with his companions. As briefly as he could, he told them what he had learned at Elrond’s council. The significance of his tale was not lost on them. They turned pale as he told of the reappearance of the One Ring and the mission of the Ringbearer.  Silence prevailed for a moment after he had finished, and then Beliond spoke for all of them.

 

“Legolas, you cannot possibly intend to delay any longer.  If the Evil One is on the move, then Mirkwood too will be in his path. We must return with all speed.”

 

“Listen to me,” Legolas urged.  “If the mission of the Ringbearer fails, then any effort we make in Mirkwood will go for naught.  We must first do what we can to help Frodo, and Lord Elrond has asked that I go with a party scouting to the west to look for signs of the Black Riders. Frodo cannot depart until we are certain that they have gone.”

 

“Surely they are not scouting only to the west,” Beliond protested with unfortunate logic.  “Can we not ride east and be just as useful?”

 

“Aragorn has asked for my help in the west where the Nazgűl were last seen,” Legolas said, ignoring Beliond’s snort of disapproval. “And besides,” he added with sudden inspiration, “the dwarves will be in the eastern party.  I do not think it would be either wise or pleasant for us to ride with them.”

 

Amdir nodded vigorously in agreement with that assertion. Next to him, Beliond looked resigned.  He might not approved of Legolas’s actions, but Legolas knew that whatever he chose, Beliond would try to make sure that no harm came to him as a result.

 

Legolas went on, “If any of you wishes to join the eastern party, you may. Or you may come west with me. The choice is yours.”

 

Beliond’s answer was instantaneous.  “Then we go with you.  We will not leave you to find your way home alone.”

 

Meaning also, thought Legolas, that Beliond had no intention of returning to face Thranduil without Legolas safely in tow.

 

“Good,” he said. “We leave at dawn.  I will go now to write to Adar about the results of the council.”  And bidding them good night, he left them.

 

Legolas sat far into the night writing to his father.  He wrote easily enough of what he had learned at Elrond’s council, terrible as that news was.  He found it much more difficult to explain his own delay in returning home.  In the end, he settled for saying that Lord Elrond had asked him to undertake the task, and he had believed that Mirkwood’s failure to hold Gollum could be atoned for by agreeing.  “We will return with all speed once the search is completed,” he wrote.  “Know that I keep you and the Woodland Realm in my thoughts and would not neglect my duty to either of you.”  Having sealed his letter, he lay down and slept fitfully for what remained of the night.

 

At dawn, the scouting parties assembled in Elrond’s courtyard.  The horses had all been brought from the stable, and servants and warriors milled around checking on mounts and supplies.  Legolas threaded his way through the confusion and handed his letter to Glorfindel.  “Please give this to King Thranduil, my lord,” he asked.

 

“Of course,” Glorfindel answered. “I will put it with the other letter.”

 

Legolas assumed that Elrond, too, must have written to Thranduil about the enterprise that was now under way.  It never occurred to him that Beliond had written his own letter to the king.

 

At a signal from Aragorn, the four Mirkwood Elves mounted and they all rode off into the grey light of morning.

 





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