Chapter 13: The Deer

It was an unusually bright day in the northeastern realm of Thranduil of Mirkwood. The morning sun bathed the forest with a cleansing light. Lenmana awoke from her usual dreams, clutching her chest. But never had her dreams ended with such pain. It was as if she had been struck again by bullets. As the waking world materialized around her, she breathed easier as she noted she was indeed whole and unhurt.

It had been four consecutive nights that she had been visited by various visions, and through them she had been gifted much knowledge about where she was at.

After the first vision, she found that she was able to make out words, here and there, from the strange tongue of the leaf people. Somewhere inside she understood that this was no accident that some higher power had intervened, and for this she was thankful, and always she thanked the moon for visiting her. She had learned many of the stories of the leaf folk. This had allowed her to feel more at ease as their stories were familiar to her.

The old wizard had visited her, and seemed to be guiding her through lessons during her waking hours. He was a man of powerful medicine. When first he spoke in her peoples’ words she thought there was witchery at work, but soon she understood that he was only capable of goodness. She would not tire of asking questions to the wizard in her broken Sindarin, and she demanded that he use Sindarin as much as possible. Fear of remembering, fear of being left alone to her thoughts drove her to immerse herself in the world of those she was around. She did not, she could not think back to the past, to that day she felt she had surely died.

But in her dreams she was never alone, and at night she anticipated the moon’s decent into her dreams. He was faceless, but his voice rang clear. She knew it was the moon for only the moon could have such a voice, only the moon could soothe her fears, and only the moon could make her feel truly alive.

But this morning she awoke and felt unsure, something had collided in the dream world and was now spiraling out of control. Lenmana clutched her breast, trying to hold her spirit in. The room closed in around her, and she felt as if she were drowning. She threw the sheet that was tangled amongst her legs to the floor and ran out of the healing rooms into the forest clearing in front of the immense gates that led into the hill side. She failed to notice that her feet ran steadily beneath her and that her body did not betray her with weakness. All she knew was that she felt the walls closing in on her and that she needed to breathe the free air.

***

The old wizard strolled along the bridge lost in his thoughts. Much had occurred, and yet not too much had changed. It had been a week since he had asked the Valar for a token of intervention, and he had been gifted with much insight and was pleased to note that his young pupil had fared rather well.

“When do you leave Mithrandir,” a voice from behind the Istari asked.

“I leave with the first light of day break,” the wizard replied, turning around to find Thranduil behind him.

“I wish you were not leaving us, but I am conscious that you are much needed elsewhere. What of the young mortal woman?”

Mithrandir stroked his beard absentmindedly, “I believe that she will have to get along with what she has learned.”

“It is rather incredulous that a woman who knew not of our tongue has suddenly seemed to become rather fluent in it. And you Mithrandir seem to be very familiar with her tongues.” Thranduil paused, and turned to look out towards the flowing river.

Mithrandir chuckled, “The ways of this world are a mystery, but sometimes we are fortunate enough to have the intervention of higher powers.”

“I suspected such,” Thranduil sighed, “but why would the Valar lend their aid for such a thing when so much in this world is ailing.”

The wizard went to stand next to Thranduil, leaning against the bridges’ sides, “One cannot understand why things occur the way they do, but I suppose that this little bit of enchantment is gifted for small reasons. Sometimes the most insignificant of things can provide us with moments of joy, and maybe help in our understanding of ourselves- the world we live in. That is the mystery of such small gifts, that so many of the insignificant things we receive come together in ways we cannot imagine.”

Thranduil tossed a rock in the river as he paused to ponder the old wizard’s words. “I hear your words, old friend, and their truth fills me with comfort, but I am concerned over this stranger’s appearance. From what you have told me, she is not of middle earth, not of this time, from a land far, far west, beyond what is allowed to be known. How is this possible?”

The Istar shrugged his shoulders, “Those are questions I cannot answer. The answer will reveal itself, in time, but not through me I am afraid, and not through actions of the Valar. We must wait for her to come to those answers.”

“Should I be expected to house this stranger, despite not knowing the truths behind her,” Thranduil asked, turning to face the Istari.

“No you are not, you are king, and those decisions are best made by you.”

“Ai, Mithrandir, I was not trying to sound rash. Friend, I would like your counsel on this matter. Who else than you? You are the one who has learned most about her, and the one she seems to trust, as you seem to trust her,” Thranduil beseeched.

“The girl is no danger. She is a simple girl who is lost in a world she is completely unaware of. Nothing more, nothing less.” Mithrandir clasped Thranduil’s shoulder, “Maybe her new born sight can shed some of the mundaneness of immortality. Thranduil, sometimes we must let life take the course most unseen.”

The elven king looked towards the west, but he didn’t look to see, he looked to understand. He ran his hands through his golden hair, the dark blue of his eyes twinkling with the sun’s light.

“Ha, my dear friend, looking at you, it is as if I am looking at Legolas,” the wizard mused.

Thranduil allowed himself to laugh, “My dear son. But I thought he looked so much like his mother?”

“Oh indeed he does, but the way you were standing just now, your hair and eyes catching the sun, your arms folded tightly across your chess, I saw Legolas for a moment.”

Thranduil chuckled at the wizard’s observation, “There is much of me in my son. I must admit he has perfected my stubbornness, and yet he is as patient as Nyére was.” Thranduil threw his arms up in the air, imitating a certain grandson, “Why do I worry about this maiden? I of all should be used to living with unsolved pasts, unknown ancestries.” His voice trailed off and he stood in silence, embracing the memory of his beloved wife.

Mithrandir tenderly grasped Thranduil’s hand in his, and squeezed it reassuringly. Thranduil allowed his gaze to fall upon the wizard’s aged face. A single tear rolled unashamedly down Thranduil’s cheek. Mithrandir gently wiped the tear away, “Oropherion, you are never alone; she shall always be a part of you.”

Thranduil smiled appreciatively, nodding his head. Wizard and king turned towards the palace, and walked in silence, but not alone.

***

Legolas was glad to be well beyond the mountains of Mirkwood, a day’s travel from his father’s kingdom. Maybe he had pushed his scouting patrol too far south, he pondered, but they had escaped serious injury. The scouting party moved quietly through the trees, the branches extending themselves towards the trusting step of the elves. Earlier Orc activity below had forced the small party up into the trees to avoid unnecessary contact. They were running too low on provisions and energy to dare violent encounters. Legolas knew that these orcs would pose no threat as other scouting parties in the area would be recently dispatched and more than willing to dispose of the hideous creatures.

“The evil grows fouler in Dol Guldur, guided by the hands of the blackness,” Legolas whispered to Aní, who was in a tree near Legolas.

“Yes,” replied Aní, “from what I have gathered from the older warriors, the foulness and darkness is unlike any they have felt.”

Legolas glanced knowingly at Aní, his words reinforced what had been eating away at him inside- the breath of darkness had become thick, impenetrable. This worried Legolas, but the soft sounds of elves around him in the trees, brought his thoughts back to tasks that had to presently be dealt with.

“I am in the mood for something more than Lembas this evening,” Legolas announced to the warriors that stealthily made there way through the forest. “Turwen would you like to join me on a short hunt? We make camp in the hollow which lays to the northeast a league from here.”

The elves silently continued on their appointed path while Turwen and Legolas dropped to the ground in order to better search for animal tracks on the earth below them. An hour after searching, Turwen called out a signal to Legolas who had been scanning another area of the forest. Swiftly and quietly Legolas approached the ground where Turwen was crouching over the fresh tracks.

Turwen pointed in the direction which the tracks led and Legolas rapidly followed the clearly marked tracks, making no sound as his booted feet seemingly disappeared as their weight touched on the ground. His bow was by his side, notched and ready. He slowed his pace as the trees around him whispered that another presence was near by. Legolas body froze in a matter of a second as he saw a female deer appear from behind a large oak, nibbling on the foliage on the ground. His bow was readied and the arrow was aimed at the animal, but before firing, Legolas silently asked the creature if it could take its life. He would not take a life of an innocent creature which did not grant thus its will.

Suddenly the deer looked up from where she ate and caught her hunter surprisingly off guard. Legolas gasped as he stared into the deer’s eyes, they were so familiar to him. He could not move; it was as if he was caught in an enchantment laid on him by the deer. The deer was still and caught in the elf’s eyes as well, and did not flinch despite the knowledge that it was being hunted. And the prayers offered by the elf reached her, and she silently acknowledged that she would offer herself this day to the kind and fair being.

The deer cautiously bowed its head breaking the spell between elf and deer. Legolas swiftly loosed his arrow, and the deer fell instantly. Elves were not cruel and they were ever thankful for the creatures that provided them sustenance. Legolas paused as he neared the fallen deer. It was dead but its eyes remained open, and again Legolas found himself staring into them. Realization swept into him as he breathed out, “Araswen.”

Turwen approached the deer as well and offered Legolas help in carrying the sizeable deer, ignoring for a moment, the name Legolas had given the fallen deer. “Do you need help in carrying the aras ?”

“No,” Legolas whispered clearly shaken by something Turwen couldn’t understand. “I will carry her to our camp.”

As the two walked quietly in the increasing darkness of the forest, Turwen’s curiosity got the best of her, “Hir nîn , when I came up behind you, after you had shot the deer, you called out Araswen. My best judgment warns me not to inquire, but my curiosity begs my indiscretion.”

Legolas allowed a brief smile to grace his lips. He shifted the deer’s weight to his other shoulder, and breathed out a heavy sigh, “Forgive my strange behavior. I was simply struck by the importance of such a moment, and I wanted to acknowledge this creature’s offering. ‘Tis all that was.”

Turwen smiled inwardly, unsatisfied with the answer, but she probed no further as she understood that her captain was not going to reward her curiosity with an honest answer.

Legolas and Turwen returned to camp and a couple of elves took the animal from Legolas and began making preparations for the party’s meal. As the group of elves ate the gift of Oromë, Legolas sat off to the side, lost in contemplation. Aní looked over towards his uncle and noticed that he appeared unsettled.

“Legolas, something troubles you,” Aní asked as he approached Legolas who sat on the outer edge of the scouting party’s camp site. Before Legolas could wave him off Aní added, “And don’t attempt to dismiss my inquiry. You know I am stubborn enough to insist all night until you tire of my questions.”

Legolas smiled slightly, “A wise observation concerning your stubbornness dear Aní.” Legolas motioned for Aní to come and sit next to him, and Aní obliged.

“I suppose you might understand my predicament,” Legolas sighed, his shoulders slumping with some unseen weight.

Aní sat silently next to his uncle, but he looked at Legolas, providing him with silent assurance.

Legolas continued, “When we sleep, we have been visited by dreams of the stars, and their radiance.”

Aní shook his head in acknowledgement. Visions of Aní’s dreams floated through his consciousness as Legolas spoke of his troubles.

“And there was the maiden who graced us with her company, with wondrous stories. I felt much peace in my dreams despite the darkness that surrounded our waking thoughts. But all I ever really saw of her were her eyes… her eyes.” Legolas’ voice trailed off and he shut his eyes as if trying to contain the images that flooded him.

“And all I ever saw of her was her hair, but I welcomed the peace that came with these dreams,” Aní whispered. He placed his hand gently on his uncle’s shoulder, “What is it that troubles your heart, for I feel your turmoil.”

Legolas sighed wearily, “This day when Turwen and I went hunting for our meal, I came upon the deer, and was surprised by what I found staring back at me.” Legolas’ eyes grew wide as he relived the moments he locked eyes with the deer, but he forced his voice to continue, “Aní, I was mesmerized by her eyes-“

“You mean the deer’s eyes?”

“Yes the aras. And I knew that somewhere before I had come to know these eyes, they were familiar to me.” Legolas gaze was looking up towards the stars that dimly lit the night sky, he then glanced back to Aní, “It came to me then, it was her, her eyes, Araswen, the maiden that has graced me with her presence in my dreams. It was her eyes I was looking into.”

Aní’s eyebrows furrowed together, as he contemplated the depth of what Legolas shared with him. “Could it be that maybe this maiden’s eyes simply resemble the eyes of an aras ?”

“No Aní, they were her eyes. This explains why I knew her as Araswen.”

Aní gasped, “Deer maiden, Araswen, that *was* her name.”

The two warriors looked upon each other solemnly and then lifted their gazes towards the stars, sharing their silent contemplation.

The elven company had rested for a couple of hours under the glory of their stars, but soon picked up and began moving under the light of Isil and Varda’s stars, closing the distance between them and home with each swift step they took. And absent from Legolas’ dreams was the maiden, but the stars, thankfully they remained. As dawn approached, the elves quickened their pace. They were anxious to arrive to warm embraces and the comforts of home.

***

Legolas smiled widely as he set foot on the bridge that crossed the Forest River and led to his father’s palace. The other elves around Legolas began to speak excitedly and more loudly. Too long had they whispered or simply not spoken for fear that they would alert unwanted ears. He looked forward to greeting his family, sleeping on his bed, and eating a hearty meal.

Without a word needed, the elves separated and sped off in the direction of their homes, Legolas and Aní following suit.

“I challenge you to a race!” Aní announced, attempting to lighten Legolas’ mood.

“And you think you can win?” Legolas quipped, and sprinted towards the palace with Aní keeping pace.

The two elves ran furiously towards the palace doors. Aní, seeing that Legolas was edging ahead of him, threw his arm out, trying to grab Legolas’ quiver. Legolas felt Aní reach out towards him, and cut quickly to his left, evading Aní’s hand. Legolas let out a shout, and sprinted ahead of Aní.

Although only beat by mere seconds, Aní gathered his breath, and threw his arms up in the air, “Ai, I will not live down the embarrassment. I was beaten by an ancient elf.”

Legolas laughed and threw himself on the grass, deciding to respond to Aní’s jibing by further laughter. Suddenly, Legolas felt an elf on top of him. Aní had launched himself in a tackle and caught his uncle by surprise. The two elves wrestled, their moods lightened by familiar surroundings. The two elves finally let up on each other and sprang up to their feet, carefully cleaning the grass that had been caught in their hair.

“Aní it is good to be home,” Legolas declared.

“My heart does feel lighter,” the younger elf replied. “You seem of better spirits yourself Legolas.”

Legolas nodded, and was about to speak when his face froze in surprise. His eyes widened and became stilled. Aní turned to see what it was that surprised Legolas, and he too opened his mouth, but no words came out. There standing in front of them looking at them wild-eyed was the maiden that had shared their dreams. Her long black hair fell wildly about her.

Aní finally was able to whisper, “That is her hair.”

Aní’s words shook Legolas from his shock. “And those eyes, those are the eyes- she, she is not dead,” Legolas breathed, “those are her eyes.”

The two stared intently at the maiden that stood before them and shouted out simultaneously, “Araswen!”

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