VIII: Elven Roads (Take Me Home)

A/N:If some of the dialogue in this chapter sounds familiar, it’s because it should. I’m afraid I just couldn’t resist.

**** 

When Estel woke, nothing had changed, and everything had changed.

The gloom of the forest had neither deepened nor lightened. Silence reigned as always. He struggled up from the heap he had found himself in, blearily looking about, trying to ascertain his situation.

He was alone.

Whatever had pushed him off the path had not followed him, or at least had decided he wasn’t worth the bother. Either way, he was grateful for small favors. His head hurt in ways he never thought it could and he had trouble focusing. There was a coppery taste in his mouth and he felt generally weak all over.

Using the tree into which he had crashed as a support, he slowly inched his way to his feet, desperately fighting the sick feeling washing over him. At last he was able to stand.

Now for the hard part.

Looking about him he realized he had no idea in which direction the path lay or even how far away it was. The forest was thick with undergrowth and the trees loomed menacingly about him in the gloom.

"A-adar! Glorfindel? Man sâd le? Adar?" Estel shouted, or tried to, for his throat was parched and his water bottle was nowhere in sight. Indeed, he realized with sudden dread, he did not even have his sword with him. Checking the area around the tree where he stood revealed no sword, no water bottle, and no clue as to how to find the path.

He closed his eyes against the pounding in his head and tried to think. He must have caused considerable damage to the undergrowth as he stumbled through the woods. Surely there would be signs of his passage. If so, he could backtrack to the path, and hopefully, to Elrond and Glorfindel.

But a cursory glance about him revealed no twisted leaf, no broken-off branch, no churning of the ground beneath him. It was as if he had simply come down from the trees. There was no sign that he had ever come through here at all.

Despair threatened to engulf him, blacker than the forest surrounding him, and he felt himself beginning to panic. Then training took over and the lessons which Glorfindel and his brothers had been at pains to teach him came to the fore, allowing him to evaluate his situation more calmly and clearly.

The first lesson he had been taught was to stay put if he found himself lost.

"It’s very tempting to want to move," he could hear Elrohir telling him in his mind, as if his elven brother were standing next to him, "but it’s a trap that should be avoided at all cost. Let others find you."

He looked about him and then above. The trees were silent and even threatening, but he had a feeling it would be safer up in their branches than here on the ground. He wished he had some water. Hunger he could ignore, and had on more than one occasion, but thirst was something else entirely. However, unless it rained he was unlikely to find water any time soon. In the meantime, he needed to get up off the ground. He just wished his head would stop hurting long enough for him to figure out how, for the branches of the nearest trees were somewhat higher than he would have liked. Perhaps if he shimmied up the trunk just enough to be able to reach one of the lower branches....

He wrapped his arms around the tree he had been using to keep himself upright, reaching as high as he could before wrapping his legs around the trunk as well and then slowly shimmying up. He did not really have too far to go, but his injuries made the climb that much harder and he was feeling breathless before too long. Eyeing the distance between him and the nearest branch that might hold his weight he reached out to grab it.

"Daro!" came the command from above him and the shock of hearing the voice was enough to loosen his hold and Estel found himself tumbling back down to the ground.

Right behind him came a fleeting figure that landed softly. Picking himself up he found himself staring at the business end of a bow and arrow, competently held by a Wood Elf. Estel raised his hands. The elf, his long hair a light gold, stared at him down the length of his arrow with a dispassionate look that was quite unnerving. Deciding to make the first friendly overture, Estel began to speak.

"Mae govan—"

"Le abdollen," the elf interrupted.

Estel blinked, not sure he had heard correctly. Late? Late for what? "Excuse me?"

The elf lowered his bow slightly, though he kept the arrow nocked. "My adar expected your party a week ago." His voice was soft and slightly accented. Quiet humor glinted from his blue eyes and the shadow of a smile played in the corners of his mouth. Then, lowering the bow even more, he stared at the mortal as if seeing him for the first time.

"You look terrible," the elf finally said in all seriousness.

Estel glanced down at himself, realizing what the elf meant, for his tunic was torn and dirty, his arms covered with scratches, he could feel rivulets of sweat stinging his eyes and he had no doubt his hair could use a good washing. Then he looked up at the elf. In spite of having traveled through the trees, the elf’s clothes were unstained, his long hair neatly in place and Estel had the feeling that sweat would never dare touch him.

The absurdity of it all finally struck him and he started laughing and then crying and he squatted on the ground and hugged himself and didn’t know or care what the Wood Elf thought of him. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and, looking up through his tears, found the elf standing before him with a water bottle in his hand.

"Drink," the elf said with some sympathy and Estel gratefully took the bottle and drank. The clear, cool taste of the water steadied him and when he had had enough he gave the bottle back to the elf with a nod of thanks.

"My name is —"

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Yes, I know," the elf said, squatting down next to him. "I am Legolas."

Thranduil’s son. Interesting.

"How did you find me?"

Legolas gave the mortal a surprised look.

"Sorry. Stupid question." He sighed and closed his eyes, wishing the throbbing of his head would cease.

"Come, we must leave," Legolas said, gracefully standing up and offering Estel a hand, which he accepted gratefully. "Lord Elrond was most upset that you were not there when the battle was over."

"Adar must be very angry at me."

"Angry? Why?"

Estel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I left the path."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at him and a faint smile crossed his face. "I think Lord Elrond is more angry at us than at you, mellon nîn. And Lord Glorfindel was even angrier, if that’s possible."

Estel grinned at the elf. "Knowing Glorfindel, I would say so. Was he cursing in Quenya?"

Legolas shook his head. "I don’t know, but whatever he was saying, it didn’t sound complementary. Come, we will take to the trees and make for my adar’s Stronghold."

"Shouldn’t we let my adar and Glorfindel know you’ve found me?"

"I’ve already asked the trees to tell them. Come."

Estel followed the Woodland prince who walked through the forest with consummate grace, silent and untraceable. Estel did his best to follow suit but knew he could never approach the level of skill that Legolas showed. Even his brothers could not have slipped so quietly through the forest.

"Where are we going?"

"I am taking you to a place where the tree branches are lower. You’ll be able to reach them more easily. I have no intention of being used as a step ladder, you see."

"Afraid to get your hair mussed?" Estel couldn’t help teasing.

Legolas stopped so suddenly Estel almost ran into him and wondered if he’d managed to offend the elven prince.

Legolas stared through the underbrush, listening, then turned to whisper in Estel’s ear. "No nad ennas."

"Man cenig?" Estel whispered back, looking about for signs that something was amiss and feeling naked without a weapon at hand.

"Yngyl."

Estel shuddered.

"They’re sleeping. Let us not disturb them," the elf whispered in explanation. He motioned with his head and together they took a different direction away from the spiders. Some time later Legolas led him before a young beech.

"Here. You should be able to reach the lower branches without trouble. And no, I’m not afraid of mussing my hair. I will stand guard while you climb." With that Legolas took his bow and nocked an arrow, turning his back on Estel, his eyes constantly scanning the forest about him.

It began to dawn on Estel that he was in more danger than he had thought and was suddenly glad that Legolas had found him when he did, but he still wished he had his sword with him. Sighing quietly he reached up to a nearby branch and swung himself up as well as he could. He was not at all graceful about it, but decided it didn’t matter. He had managed to climb to a second, higher branch when he felt, rather than saw, Legolas jump into the tree and join him.

The climb had taken more out of Estel than he would have liked. He leaned against the trunk of the tree, holding on to another branch, and breathed deeply. His head was swimming and he hoped he wouldn’t fall out. Legolas silently handed him his water bottle and Estel nodded his thanks before taking a careful swig. He tried not to be too greedy, for he did not know where they could fill the bottle up and he did not wish to take all of the elf’s water. Legolas must have divined his thoughts.

"Drink what you will," he said softly. "There are plenty of places along the way where we can fill it up."

"Le hannon," Estel said and proceeded to take another sip before handing the bottle back to the elf.

"How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts something fierce and I’m having trouble focusing at times. I may be concussed."

"Your hair is matted with blood. I think you might have opened your scalp, but we will have to wait until we are in a safer location to take a look. I have sent my people to escort Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel to my adar, but they must stick to the path and it will take them longer. We, however, will move among the trees and arrive at the Stronghold the sooner."

"And how is it that the son of Thranduil travels alone?"

Legolas smiled thinly. "Who says I’m alone?"

As if that were the signal, two grey-green shapes slipped silently into sight along two other branches, both higher than the one he and Legolas were on. Estel saw that they were both armed with bows at the ready, looking competent and deadly. Neither spoke.

He turned back to Legolas and made a slight bow. "I stand corrected."

Legolas laughed softly and his two guards smiled. Legolas introduced them, pointing first to the darker of the two, his hair the deep gold of an autumn sun.

"This is Galadhor, and the ugly one over there is Laslaerion."

Laslaerion stuck out his tongue at his prince and Estel had to laugh because, if anything, this elf with light gold hair appeared to be the fairest of the three.

"You are Wood Elves, I am not," Estel commented, frowning slightly. "I do not think I will be able to travel easily or swiftly through the trees."

Legolas shook his head. "You are with me, now. The trees will help you find your way, never fear. We will take it as slow as you need to until you are used to traveling in this fashion. One of us will always be beside you. Come, then, let us go. There is a small clearing a few miles away where we can rest and eat and I will tend to your wounds, though I am not a healer."

"But I am," Estel said with some confidence. "I can tell you what to do."

"Fair enough. Galadhor, you have point."

The dark haired elf grimaced. "Why do I always have point, Legolas? It’s Laslaerion’s turn."

"Nonsense," said the elf in question, sounding affronted. "I took point on our last patrol together."

Galadhor just scowled at him. "Which was three years before the Dagorlad, if I recall correctly."

"And so?" Laslaerion sniffed, clearly unimpressed. "It was still our last patrol together. Why are you complaining?"

Legolas laughed quietly and Estel found himself grinning. "They sound like my brothers," he said.

"Brothers?" asked Legolas.

Estel nodded. "Elladan and Elrohir, Lord Elrond’s sons, are as brothers to me."

"Oh, no, Aragorn," Legolas laughed. "I’ve met the twin sons of Lord Elrond, and these two are definitely worse."

The two elves in question both made a face at their prince and then smiled. Legolas smiled back, the sense of trust and love between the three self-evident. "Bado," he said in quiet command and the two elves melted away.

Legolas held out his hand. "Come, I will lead you."

Estel took the prince’s hand and followed as best he could the instructions of the Wood Elf as to how to walk across a branch and move from tree to tree. He noticed how the trees themselves seemed to move their branches to either aid them or remove obstructions from their path. At first hesitant, and not a little wary, Estel soon began to relax and even enjoy the journey. They traveled in silence save for when Legolas gave him instructions. He saw and heard no sign of the other two elves.

He was not sure how long they took, but before Estel had reached the limit of his strength Legolas led him down into a small clearing through which a freshlet ran. The gloom had begun to deepen and Estel suspected that in the outside world the day was closing and night was at hand.

When they reached the clearing it was to find Galadhor and Laslaerion already there setting up camp. A small but welcome fire was burning gaily and a rich stew was cooking in a pot. Estel sank gratefully before the fire, readily accepting a metal cup filled with water from the freshlet given to him by Laslaerion, who bowed briefly in response to Estel’s quiet thanks.

As Estel waited for the meal to be ready, Legolas spoke to him, "Come, Aragorn, we need to tend to your wounds. Head wounds should not be taken lightly, but there was no way to check on yours when we found you."

"I have boiled some water, Legolas," Galadhor said, standing up to retrieve a small bowl from the fire and placing it beside the prince. Laslaerion brought over some clean linen as well. Legolas nodded his thanks and, dipping a piece of cloth into the water began to clean Estel’s head.

"There is much blood but it has dried. I suspect that you might need stitches."

"How long was it before you found me?"

Legolas shrugged. "A couple of hours, no more. It took some time to sort things out at the ford before we could come after you." He stopped his ministrations for a moment while examining Estel’s head. "Yes, you will definitely need stitches, but it is not a large wound."

"Do you have the necessary supplies here?"

It was Laslaerion who answered, shaking his head. "No, Lord Aragorn, for the three of us travel light. All of the medical supplies we normally carry are with the escort."

"I can bind your head to keep the area clean, but we will have to wait until we reach the Stronghold to tend to you properly."

Estel sighed. "How long?"

Legolas smiled. "If we were not hampered by a mortal, we would be there in a few hours, but as it is, you would slow us down even if you were not injured. I would say we shall be there the day after tomorrow at the earliest."

Estel wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t feel insulted by the elf prince’s words, but on reflection, he realized that the elf had only spoken the truth, at least as he saw it.

"Do you have any athelas or perhaps the rootstock of some salab-en-nestad that can be made into a poultice? If we cannot suture the wound as yet, either of these herbs will help stave off infection and keep the wound clean."

The three elves glanced at each other then Legolas spoke. "Athelas we have none, but the healing herb is common to this forest. How much do you require?"

Estel told him and, with a nod from Legolas, Laslaerion melted into the forest to search for the needed herb. In the meantime, Galadhor boiled more water and when Laslaerion returned Estel gave them instructions as to the proper amount of the rootstock to use and when to take the pulp off the fire. Once the poultice had cooled enough, Legolas carefully applied it to the wound, eliciting a hiss from Estel, though he made no other complaint.

"Now place some gauze on it and then wrap it so it will stay," instructed Estel and Legolas complied. Soon, it was done and while Estel felt ridiculous with a cloth wrapped around his head, he knew it was preferable to the alternative.

When it was all over and Galadhor was placing the leftover poultice into a small pot to carry for future use, Legolas handed Estel some water. "You are quite good," he said.

Estel looked up with a frown, "For a mortal, you mean?"

The elven prince looked at said mortal in surprise, then knelt down to face him. "For anyone, mellon nîn. Elrond of Imladris taught you well. I have something for you. Your adar said you would want it."

Legolas nodded to Laslaerion who came forward with something wrapped in a blanket. He handed it to Estel with a short bow. Inside the folds of the blanket lay his sword. Estel’s eyes brightened with delight and relief. Now he was properly armed.

"It was found near the edge of the path," Legolas said as Estel examined the blade before putting it in its scabbard. "Lord Elrond was beside himself when he found it. It was all I could do to convince him to let me find you, for he was ready to head into the woods on his own."

Estel nodded. "Adar will not rest until he sees me again."

Laslaerion looked at the Man with some confusion. "Lord Elrond is your adar?"

"The adar of my heart," explained Estel. "He took me and my naneth in and fostered me as if I were his own son after my adar died in an orc ambush."

The three elves grimaced in sympathy at that but made no other comment.

Then Estel smiled at a thought. "Adar will be very upset to see me so injured. He does not like treating family members. Says the thought of doing so turns his hair several shades of grey."

"But Lord Elrond is an elf," exclaimed Galadhor, sounding perplexed and not understanding the joke. "How can his hair turn grey as if he were a mortal?"

Legolas chuckled. "Lord Elrond does indeed have mortal blood in him, Galadhor, but he has chosen the life of the Eldar. I think Aragorn is merely saying that his adar hates the idea of having to treat those he loves."

"Everyone calls me Estel, Prince Legolas," Estel said.

Legolas raised an eyebrow at that. "Even the Dúnedain Rangers?"

Estel blushed at that. "Well, no, they call me Lord Aragorn, or just Aragorn, depending on how old they are and how closely related they are to me. I suppose I should have said that all the elves I know call me Estel."

"Why Estel?"

"It was the name Elrond gave me when I came to Imladris as a child. It was meant to hide me from the Enemy."

"And now it is used to remind you that you are still a child in their eyes, isn’t it?" Legolas asked shrewdly. Estel shrugged, his face turning red in embarrassment. He kept his eyes on the ground and so did not see the flash of amusement that passed between the three elves, the youngest of whom had been an elfling of thirty-five when Estel’s ancestors lost the kingdom of Arthedain to the Witch-king of Angmar.

Legolas leaned over to place a hand on Estel’s arm. Estel looked up to see an expression of compassion on the elf’s face. "I think I will continue to call you Aragorn, if that is all right with you."

Estel could only nod his acceptance and gratitude, too overwhelmed by the elf’s understanding to say anything.

Legolas smiled. "And I think we can dispense with 'prince' if you don’t mind. My name is Legolas."

Estel nodded again and smiled back.

Galadhor glanced over at the fire. "I think the stew is ready," he said and in a few minutes they were all enjoying a hot meal, the first meal of any sort for Estel in close to a day. Afterwards, they sat around the fire sipping cups of wine, though Legolas made sure Estel’s share was mostly water.

The elves told Estel about the battle and how they had finally convinced Elrond to continue on to the Woodland Realm while Legolas and his guards went in search of the Dúnadan.

"In fact, Lord Aragorn, we would have found you sooner," Galadhor added, attempting to sound repentent, "but Legolas kept missing the more obvious clues as to your whereabouts."

Legolas choked on his wine. "I never!" he protested. "The trees knew just where Aragorn was and they told me."

"Hmph, that’s what all these woodland princes say," Laslaerion declared with a sniff.

Estel found himself grinning. "I see what you mean, Legolas. They are definitely worse than my brothers."

"I get no respect from either of them," Legolas said with an exaggerated sigh.

"That’s because we both have had the dubious honor of having to change you when you were an elfling, my prince," laughed Galadhor. "It’s hard to respect someone you remember running around naked in the front courtyard where all the realm could see him."

"And singing at the top of his lungs some silly nursery song or other," added Laslaerion.

"Well, at least everyone was entertained," Legolas said with exaggerated dignity.

"And in more ways than one, I imagine," Estel could not help saying with a grin, trying to see this self-possessed prince as a naked elfling.

Legolas blushed and the other two elves laughed even harder.

"I know you wish to rejoin Lord Elrond, Aragorn," Legolas said once everyone had calmed down. "but we will make better time if we simply continue as we have. We are actually closer to my adar than we are to the yours right now and I do not like the look of your head wound. It needs stitching."

Estel nodded. "You are correct, Legolas. This wound should not be left untended for too long." He paused for a moment, suddenly shy. "And traveling through the trees is a new experience for me, one that I look forward to repeating on the morrow."

This seemed to please the Wood Elves very much. Legolas then suggested that Aragorn should try to get some rest, assuring the mortal that he was safe within the glade. In a little bit the Man was fast asleep while the three elves sang softly into the night.

****

When Estel woke the next morning he found the three elves in quiet conversation as they went about the business of breaking camp. Legolas and Galadhor were tending to the fire while Laslaerion sat in one of the trees, his bow at the ready, obviously on guard. They were not speaking Sindarin, so Estel assumed they were speaking a Silvan tongue unknown to him. In Imladris there were only Noldor and Sindar, for few of the Silvan elves had bothered to cross the Misty Mountains in the distant past and those few had been absorbed into the mixed Noldorin and Sindarin cultures of Imladris, Eregion and Lindon during the course of an Age. Legolas noticed the Man waking and smiled, switching to Sindarin in greeting.

"We were wondering if you would ever waken, Aragorn," Legolas said, handing him a bowl of left over stew and a spoon.

"How late is it?" Estel asked as he began eating. "I fear I cannot tell the passing of time within these woods."

Legolas nodded as he sat beside the mortal. "It is the second hour past dawn. We will leave as soon as you have finished breaking your fast and seeing to any personal needs, but you need not hurry. There is a chance of rain later today, so we will go as far as we can before seeking shelter. Normally we would not stop even for rain unless it happens to be a fierce storm, but you would not be able to travel easily in the wet however mild the rainfall may be."

"I’m sorry to be such an inconvenience to you all," Estel said. "We wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t left the path."

"Nonsense, youngling," Galadhor said, handing Estel some hot tea. "Getting the chance to show off our skills to a mortal is worth the inconvenience."

Estel stared at the Wood Elf in astonishment, not sure how to take such words, then, glancing at Legolas, he noticed how the prince was trying hard not to laugh. He looked back at Galadhor with a slow grin. "How inconvenient would you like me to make it in order that you may show off your skills even more?"

Laslaerion laughed uproariously, nearly falling out of the tree. "Elbereth, Legolas, can we keep him?"

"I will have to ask Adar. You know what he thinks about me bringing home…pets." Here he winked at Estel, and at the sound of the other two elves’ laughter realized that this might be a longstanding joke between them.

After breakfast, Legolas insisted on checking Estel’s head wound. There was no sign of infection according to the elf and he replaced the now dried-up poultice with a fresh amount before rebinding the wound. Soon after they were off and Estel was pleased that he had remembered the instructions Legolas had given him the day before and the elven prince nodded in approval. The rest of the morning was spent in moving from tree to tree, taking a rest now and then, especially when Legolas noticed Estel’s stamina flagging. Towards noon the gloom darkened and the four of them found shelter in the arms of a large oak. It was not a strong storm, but it was enough of one to make them miserable. They spent the time trading stories of hunting orcs and the trials and tribulations of being on patrol for weeks on end.

After about an hour the rain let up and they decided to move on. There was another glade towards which the elves were heading and it was there they planned to spend the night.

"We will be at the front gates of the Woodland Realm by tomorrow evening, mellon nîn," Legolas told him when they finally reached their goal for the night. "How are you holding up?"

"Well enough," Estel replied. "I have not been seeing double all day, but my head is throbbing and I wish to do nothing more than sleep."

"A good hot meal will help, I think," the Woodland prince commented.

In spite of the rain earlier, the glade proved to be quite dry though the air was more chill and damper than it had been the night before. Soon the four of them were relaxing next to a small fire, but by the time they were finished with dinner, Estel was nearly asleep.

"Rest now," Legolas told his new friend. "Tomorrow will see us home and you will see your adar soon after, for they are no more than two days behind us, I deem."

Estel nodded and was asleep in minutes, never feeling Legolas placing another blanket over him against the chill of the night.

****

The last day of travel proved as uneventful as the previous one, for which Estel was grateful. He felt less of an encumbrance now, especially since he was now properly armed, but he knew that he would prove a distraction to the elves if they were attacked, for they would be concentrating more on protecting him rather than defending themselves. He did not wish to be the cause of any elf’s wounding or death. But the situation never arose.

Sometime in the late afternoon they were joined by one of the many patrols ranging near the elven Stronghold and Estel knew they were not far now from Legolas’ home. True to Legolas’ word, they came out of the trees into a large glade even as the sun was beginning to set. Estel looked about him in the gathering dusk. The glade was large and the other side of it could not be seen. A raging river ran through it and a stone causeway across it marked the entrance to the underground fortress of Thranduil. Lights began to glow in the trees surrounding the glade where elves resided in flets.

Legolas turned to Estel with a grin. "Welcome to the Woodland Realm, Aragorn. Welcome to my home."

Estel grinned back.

****

Man sâd le?: 'Where are you?', literally 'What place (are) you (in)?'

Daro: Stop (imperative form).

Le abdollen: 'You’re late'.

No nad ennas: 'Something is out there', literally 'A thing is there'.

Man cenig?:  'What do you see?'.

Yngyl:  Spiders (plural of ungol).

Le hannon: 'Thank you' (and this is the correct form; the accusative pronoun always comes before the verb in Sindarin).

Bado: Go (imperative form).

Salab-en-nestad: Literally, 'healing herb'; Comfrey (Symphytum officinale) — the rootstock can be made into a hot pulp and used as a poultice for wounds and bruises.