Author’s Notes: I’m a fan fic vet, but this is my first LotR attempt.  I haven’t posted anything in years, so I expect I’ll be a little rusty.  Constructive criticism is highly appreciated!  And believe me, I know the difference between criticism and flames!  Don’t worry about offending me!

This plot draws heavily from “The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen” in appendix a.  It would probably be helpful if you are familiar with the story outlined there.  And while Aragorn and Arwen’s tale is a love story, this story here isn’t necessarily romantic. It’s set in the time between Aragorn’s finding of his true name and his leaving Imladris to journey into the wilds.  My apologies to any Tolkien scholars who will, no doubt, find this story to be rubbish.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and use everything without permission.  Prosecute away!

Therefore, I Have Hope

     When Aragorn heard that Wood-elves had entered Imladris, he betook himself to the courtyard.  He found himself a secluded bench, hidden from view by a very curtain of trailing flowers.  And although one could not see the bench from the courtyard, the bench could easily see the courtyard.

     He waited for a dozen or so minutes before a company on horses came within sight.  Seven Elves with dark, brown hair and one Elf with golden hair compromised the party.  Aragorn found himself quite taken with the magnificent bay the golden Elf now stood next to.

     All of the Wood-elves had dismounted and allowed their mounts to be led away (although several looked unhappy about it).  Erestor stepped forward to greet the guests.  Aragorn could not hear the conversation, but he saw the golden Elf reply.  So that one is the leader of the party, Aragorn surmised.

     Aragorn could tell by the colors and style of their clothing that they were not of Lothlórien.  They hailed from Taur e-Ndaedelos[1], he guessed.  Aragorn had never met one of Thranduil’s folk.

     Erestor made a sweeping motion with his hands.  The golden Elf gestured in reply.  To Aragorn’s complete surprise, Erestor embraced the golden Elf and kissed his forehead.  Then Erestor led the way into the Last Homely House, the Wood-elves close behind him.

     “It is not considered polite to spy, my son,” said Lord Elrond from behind him.  Aragorn grimaced to the flowers in front of him.  He was exceptional among men for his stealth and awareness, and still Elrond could sneak up on him.

     “Who are those Wood-elves, my lord?” Aragorn asked, rising and facing Elrond.  He fell into step with his foster father as they walked towards the Last Homely House.  “I can tell they are not from Lothlórien.”

     “You are correct.  They are come from Taur e-Ndaedelos on my request.” 

     “If you can tell me, why?”  Aragorn looked at Elrond out of the corner of his eye. 

     Elrond smiled.  It occurred to Aragorn that it was a sad smile.  “In due time, Aragorn.  I dare say you shall know sooner than you wish.”

     That silenced Aragorn.  Elrond rarely called him by his true name, even within the safety of Imladris, for fear of the Enemy.  The time was not yet right for his identity to be revealed, the Elf lord continually impressed, although it was the right time for Aragorn himself to know of his lineage. 

     “My lord,” said Aragorn, suddenly wary.  “Will the Wood-elves treat me ill because of my race or lineage?”

     Elrond’s eyebrows raised.  “Many things have been said of Thranduil and his folk, Estel.  Do not believe all that you hear.  Come, it is near to evening meal and you have yet to prepare.”

     Aragorn made himself as tidy and presentable as a Man could be in a company of Elves.  He felt Elrond’s nod of approval on him as he entered the dining hall.  Aside from himself and Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel sat at the table as was their wont.  Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond, sat at Elrond’s left.  Their golden-haired visitor sat at Elrond’s right.

     The golden Elf stood when Aragorn entered.  The Man briefly noted that the Elf’s green and brown clothing was every bit as fine and rich as Lord Elrond’s.

     Said Elrond:  “Estel, may I present Legolas Greenleaf of Taur e-Ndaedelos.  Legolas, my child, you are aware of Estel’s true name, thus it does not merit repeating.”  Elrond motioned for Aragorn to seat himself.

     “It is an honor to meet you, Estel,” said Legolas in a charming accent. 

     “The honor is mine,” replied Aragorn, more curious than ever to find the reason for this Wood-elf’s appearance. 

     Lord Elrond smiled after several minutes of watching Aragorn hold himself back from questioning their guest.  Once all plates were full, Elrond turned to Legolas.  “Are your warriors satisfactorily settled, Legolas?”

     “Ay, most comfortably, my lord.  You are a gracious host, as ever.”

     Arwen then questioned Legolas on the health of his family.  Aragorn learned that Legolas’s family, specifically his father, fared well, yet he found no names that would identify their visitor.  Obviously a noble and on easy terms with the lords and lady of Imladris, Legolas’s station mystified Aragorn.  Perhaps he was an ambassador of sorts.

     “You arrived earlier than we expected, dear Legolas,” said Glorfindel.  “I trust you were not hindered on your journey?”

     Merriment swept across Legolas’s face.  “We had a most boring journey, my dear lord Glorfindel.  We did not smell an Orch, let alone fight one.”

     “That is as it should be,” said Elrond.  “It seems that even yet that which happened in the year of the fall of the Dragon has kept the mountain passes clear of goblins.”

     “Mayhap they have left the mountains.  Yet I would rather them there where it is unpopulated than in the woods of my home, where foul beings are ever multiplying.  The southernwood near Dol Guldur is nearly overrun with goblins, spiders, and evil creatures.  Even on patrols, our warriors do not venture near the tower.”  Legolas’s face grew troubled, even as he quietly tucked away his dinner in the manner of one whose meals are routinely interrupted.  “The Enemy’s fell creatures are ever pushing north to my lord’s stronghold.  We are hard pressed to keep them back.”

     “Is the situation very tense?” Glorfindel asked.

     “The Shadow grows.  My lord did not easily allow my warriors and me to make this trip, for every Elf that knows how to wield a weapon is needed.  Even so, the light of my people will not be defeated.  We love our wood all the more for the blood and tears we spill defending it.  Indeed, nothing is as cherished as that which one needs must fight for.”

     Aragorn felt admiration and respect grow as he listened to the Wood-elf.  He had always known about the Forest’s plight, but as he had never met an Elf from there, it had never meant much of anything to him.  He could do naught about it, so he did not much think on it.  That this Elf in front of him faced horror and shadow every day, yet remained merry, made an impression on Aragorn.

     It happened that Legolas looked at Arwen and saw the shadow on her face.  “I apologize, Undómiel,” he said softly.  “It is not something that should be spoken of at meal times.”

     The rest of the meal was spent in conversation between the Imladris lords and Legolas.  They puzzled Aragorn exceedingly.  With Erestor, Legolas spoke as a fellow advisor, one that held his lord’s ears.  They spoke of foreign relationships, crops, trading, and so on.  Glorfindel mentioned weapons, or horses, and Legolas became a warrior (and it seemed to Aragorn they were very much like brothers).  And when Elrond spoke with the Wood-elf, they seemed many things: teacher and student, fellow rulers, father and child, healer and patient, even.  Arwen did not much speak, but she shared many long looks with her father, and to Aragorn’s slight jealousy, Legolas also.

     The meal ended, leaving Aragorn with many clues that did not fit together.  He wished Elladan and Elrohir were at home, but alas, they were riding with the Rangers of the North.  Perhaps he would seek out Arwen later. 

     “Legolas, as I trust you and Glorfindel shall attempt to kill each other upon the morrow, I would speak with you tonight,” said Lord Elrond, standing. 

     Legolas stood as well.  “As you wish, my lord.  I shall speak with my warriors, and then meet you in your study.” 

     Rising, Glorfindel said, “If you should not mind my company, my good Legolas, I shall accompany you.  I saw my old friend Aerhos in your party.”

     Again, Aragorn saw merriment flood Legolas’s face.  “Your company would be a pleasure, my dear Lord Glorfindel.”  They left together. 

     “Arwen, my daughter, I would speak with you,” said Elrond.  She acquiesced silently and accompanied him. 

     It was just he and Erestor left.  Erestor sighed—a happy sigh—and said to him, “What a delight it is to have that dear boy within this house again.  It has been too long—many years.”  He, too, then departed, leaving Aragorn alone to ponder his new acquaintance.  Soon he found himself in the company of his mother, where he passed a pleasant evening, happily oblivious to the discussion taking place in Elrond’s study.

     When Legolas repaired to the study, he found Elrond seated at the desk and Arwen standing near the window looking out.  “Legolas, please sit,” said Elrond.  Legolas did so.  “I believe you both know what it is I wish to speak of.”  Legolas nodded and glanced at Arwen, who remained silent.  “I am confident that you well know your adar’s wishes, Legolas, therefore, though absent, his presence is felt.”

     Elrond folded his hands on the desk in front of him.  “It is well known that it was the fond wish of both your naneths that time would see your hearts become one.”

     Arwen made an impatient noise by her window.

     “Arwen, my beloved, will you not sit?” beseeched Elrond.  She sighed and obeyed, gracefully moving to the chair next to Legolas’s.  “My children, I will not demand your betrothal.  I simply ask that you look from my perspective, from Thranduil’s perspective, and see what we see.  The uniting of our houses, the fulfillment of happy hopes, and the completing of two hearts.  I am convinced, as is Thranduil, that in time, you will come to love each other as husband and wife.  And though we cannot be sure, I believe that whether she be in Mandos’ Halls or in Valinor, your naneths will know and rejoice.”  Elrond took a moment to search their faces.  They both exuded misery.

     “As you both know, it has been many years since this subject has been broached.  Indeed, we have not spoken of it since the day you journeyed to Lórien, my daughter, to visit with your naneth’s kin.  Being it that neither of you bonded during that time, Thranduil and I are hopeful that this is a sign you are meant for each other.

     “I have,” he continued, “this missive from Thranduil, sent with you, Legolas, that seconds everything I say.  My dear Arwen, perhaps I should read an excerpt to you, to show you how Thranduil welcomes your entrance to his family.”  He began to read: “Tell Lady Arwen how fervently I pray she accepts my son’s suit.  She will be as welcome and beloved as my own late daughter.  Indeed, she will fill the void that the losses of my wife and daughter have left in mine and Legolas’s hearts, and even in my other son’s.  Her charms and graces are well known in my household.  She is a jewel, and you need not fear, Lord Elrond, that we will not treasure her with all of our might.”

     During the reading Legolas had reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache.  Arwen looked near tears.  This is not going well, Elrond conceded.

     “King Thranduil is very flattering,” Arwen managed.  “Yet, I cannot accept.”

     “My children, I do not want your answers tonight.  I understand that this is a delicate situation of great importance.  Give yourself several days to become reacquainted.”

     Understanding that they were dismissed, both fled the library.

     Legolas wearily retraced his steps to where his warriors were quartered.  Glorfindel was still visiting with Aerhos in the room that Aerhos shared with Gildae, who was trying to sleep.  Legolas cast himself onto Aerhos’s bed. 

     “Did Lord Elrond approach you so soon?” Aerhos asked, forced to move his legs to make room for his prince.  “I did not expect him to make a move until morning at the earliest.”

     Legolas groaned and buried his face into the coverlet.  “Normally it is the maiden that is interested in me and I can find ways to ignore her.  Here the maiden wishes it just as little as I, but we are constantly pushed together by our adars and even our naneths, who no longer dwell within Middle Earth, mind you.”

     “Poor leaflet,” Glorfindel laughed.  “Why do you not find a maid that loves you whom you love back?”

     “Do not call me leaflet unless you want to begin our duel early.”  He raised his head and glared at Aerhos.  “And if any faithful warrior of Taur-nu-Fuin[2] should remember that nickname, he would do well to forget it.”

     “Consider it forgotten.  The males of my family have always been known to have faulty memories,” Aerhos said easily.  “For instance, the times my adar forgot that he pretended to be giving you lessons while you were out hunting without permission.  Or the time I forgot I stood guard while you and your brother hefted treats from the kitchens.  We remember none of that.  I am sure that I do not remember that my prince, easily my junior by a millennia, threatens my existence should I one day remember these things.”

     “No, it would not do to remember that,” agreed Glorfindel.  “Really, leaflet, reduced to threats?”

     Aerhos amended, “I did not say that, my friend.  I said I do not remember any such threats.” 

     “You also do not remember that you have a roommate who prefers to sleep at night,” Gildae moaned from his bed. 

     “As I said, faulty memories,” Aerhos concluded. 

     “You are all doing nothing to ease my situation,” Legolas growled.  “And you are keeping Gildae awake.”

     “Thank you, my prince.  Your concern is appreciated,” Gildae said.

     Legolas continued, “If your input helped, you could talk as loud as you wished.  But since you are coming up with nothing useful, Gildae and I are both annoyed with you.”

     “Exceedingly annoyed,” said Gildae.

     “Thank you, Gildae,” said Legolas.  He stole Aerhos’s pillow and tucked it under his cheek.  “I will be up all night figuring how to tell my adar that I refused the lady Arwen’s hand for the nth time, that I respect her and love her only as a sister.”  He grimaced at Glorfindel.  “You might have to kill me tomorrow.  I do not think I shall be able to go home after this.”

     Glorfindel stood.  “Anything to please.  And now I will retire to prepare myself for our battle.  Until tomorrow, Thranduilion.” 

     “If you still keep up your nightly wine habit with Erestor, could you please tell him that I am in grave distress and am in dire need of his wisdom,” Legolas requested.  Glorfindel laughed and nodded and departed.  To Aerhos, Legolas said, “Erestor could tell to my adar of my death and make it sound like good news.”

     “My prince, if I might remind you, you have beautiful quarters of your own, with a bed twice this size,” said Aerhos, trying to find a comfortable position around Legolas.  “Go make use of it.”

     “It is far away,” the prince said into the pillow. 

     “In that case, I shall betake myself there.  It is only fair that I get your bed since you are in mine.”

     Legolas groaned and sat up.  “There is no need to be so greedy, Aerhos.  It is not befitting a warrior.”  Standing, he stretched like a cat.  “I will see you both on the morrow, assuming I survive the night.” 

 

---