Chapter 6:  unexpected meeting

Two hunched figures ducked low over the necks of their horses trying to protect their faces. It was raining heavily; the fat drops coming at them nearly horizontally due to the whipping wind.

Master Elrond of Imladris and his Troop Commander Glorfindel were on their way home from visiting Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood.

Although the healer seldom left his sheltered valley he had travelled this time to deliver a new antidote he had developed. He had also spent some time training the Galadhrim in its use.

His incentive for developing the antidote had been the increasing orc activity at the pass used for travelling between the two realms. The foul creatures were using a new sort of poison making the journey back and forth even more dangerous. Elrond had laboured long to create an antidote, which was not only effective but also almost universally usable against most poisons.

The only difficulties with this new formula were the correct preparation and the necessity for its quick application. Elrond had travelled to Lothlórien to demonstrate the proper use of the new antidote.

He had spent two weeks within the Golden Wood but was now eager to return home to his wife and young daughter. His child was only ten years old and had complained loudly about not being allowed to accompany him.

Celebrían had also been dismayed by being unable to visit with her parents, but travelling with such a small child was out of the question. Only by promising to return soon had the Elf-lord been able to leave.

His sons were on a diplomatic mission to the north of Gondor so Elrond was travelling with only the companionship of Glorfindel. Many guards weren’t of much use in this rocky territory anyway and Elrond felt he couldn’t wish for a better and more effective protector than his long time friend.

Soon after departing but still on the eastern side of the mountains just at the borders of Mirkwood, the weather had changed for the worst and the two elves were hard pressed to even see the path just ahead. The temperature had also dropped, making the stinging rain even more uncomfortable.

Glorfindel who had been riding ahead dropped back until he was alongside the healer. “It makes no sense to go on in this weather. We should try to find some shelter!”

Already soaked to the bone Elrond was happy to agree. More susceptible than his companion to such weather the Elf-lord was eager to get out of the rain. Confident that Glorfindel would find a cave or something suitable Elrond followed the blurred silhouette in front of him praying that orcs did not use the bad visibility to their advantage and attack just yet.

Still it was another hour before Glorfindel held up his hand and pointed ahead. Elrond stopped his stallion but could not make out anything. Glorfindel however rode on and now the healer could perceive a dark opening under an overhanging rock. Relieved, he didn’t need to urge his horse forward; the stallion was as eager as his master to get out of the rain.

Reaching the cave’s mouth Glorfindel bent down and inspected a few prints. Elrond frowned at the smallness of the marks. When Glorfindel motioned him forward Elrond complied grateful to be finally inside. Unexpectedly the cave opened up after they passed through a narrow entrance.

After some steps Glorfindel held up his hand again. Elrond, following closely behind the warrior, stopped immediately. Being Half-elf he could not rival the exceptional hearing of his friend. Glorfindel turned and looked at him his expression turning from concern to surprise.

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes. After some moments however he motioned for the healer to follow him. Elrond complied knowing that the warrior would never do that in the face of a threat he could not appraise.

While stepping further into the cave Elrond could now make out a noise. As he identified it, a look of surprise crept over his face too. The sound was unmistakably that of a sobbing child.

What in the Valar´s name was a child doing in that cavern, far away from any decent settlement of men or the Elvenking’s halls and in the dead of night?

Like Glorfindel, Elrond quickened his pace and stopped a moment later after rounding a last boulder that was obscuring his view. There at the far end of the cave sat a little child with his head on his raised knees shaking with sobs.

Despite the overwhelming urge to rush over and comfort the poor little one, Glorfindel held the healer back and the Elf-lords observed their surroundings carefully. It could be a well placed trap.

For long moments they strained their senses. They did not lower their weapons until they were sure nothing would pounce on them the minute they relinquished their guard.

The child seemed to not to have recognized them yet. After a nod from Glorfindel the healer advanced further and knelt in front of the little one being careful not to startle the child.

He was close enough now to recognize that the child was not only a boy but an elfling with long fair hair, not older then ten or twelve years.

While Glorfindel kept standing Elrond reached out a hand and softly touched the knee of the boy. With dismay he realized there was a blood stain on the leggings of the child’s lower leg.

Feeling the touch on his head the elfling straightened up and Elrond was regarded with fearful and frightened blue eyes. The child pushed back against the wall behind him.

“Do not be afraid, little one. We will do you no harm,” the healer said softly. Blue eyes darted from the healer to the warrior and back. The boy did not move an inch, but he had stopped crying.

Seeing the clear evidence that the child had suffered some sort of trauma Elrond sat on the floor next to him. After becoming convinced that nothing else was hiding in the cave Glorfindel also crouched down. He regarded the elfling thoughtfully.

Elrond reached out again but the child shrank back to avoid the touch. The healer sighed and tried another approach.

“What’s your name, little one?” he asked. While the child struggled with whether he wanted to answer or not Elrond continued to smile at the boy. “I’m Elrond and that’s my friend Glorfindel,” he said while pointing at the warrior. Glorfindel inclined his head but said nothing.

Elrond observed the continued struggled of the boy with some concern. Was he that much afraid of them to even answer? Now the healer recognized the quality of the fine clothing the child was wearing. Even though it was dirty and rumpled the exquisite weave was unmistakable. How did this all fit together?

At last the boy took a deep breath: “I’m Legolas Thr…..from Mirkwood.”

Elrond shot Glorfindel a significant look. The stumble had not gone unnoticed. However Elrond did not press it for now. What mystery was behind this lost elfling?

Hoping that his question would finally shed some light Elrond looked again at the boy. “Well met, Legolas. Can you tell me why you are here alone and where your parents are?”

As if hitting a sore spot the boy began sobbing again. “I got lost when the monsters attacked. They hurt Nana and she yelled at me to run away…I didn’t want to…but she cried so bad … and ... and…

Further words were drowned in heavy sobs. Elrond directed a shocked gaze at Glorfindel, who had sprung up again. The little boy could not have gone far and the “monsters”, obviously nothing other then orcs, could still be around. The warrior slipped out of the cave to scout and make sure of that.

Without a conscious thought Elrond reached out to comfort the distressed elfling but again the boy recoiled from him.

“Ada will be mad at me for running away and getting lost…” he sobbed barely able to utter an understandable word.

Elrond sighed. The question of where the child’s father was had now been answered.

Deciding to try another approach, Elrond mover a bit closer. “Legolas, listen to me. Your Ada will be very glad that you are alive, he definitely will not be angry.”

A sceptical gaze was directed at the healer. Elrond only raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure of that, Legolas,” Elrond confirmed still wondering why the child’s father had not been with his family here in the depth of the great wood.

“Will you let me look at your leg?” Elrond asked pointing at the little one’s blood-stained leggings. Glorfindel had just returned and signalled that no orcs were roaming their near surroundings. Elrond acknowledged the information with a thankful nod.

While Elrond looked inquiringly at the elfling Legolas shook his head. Glorfindel raised an amused eyebrow at the irritated expression on the healer’s face. This little one had a strong will. Again some familiarity struck him.

“Legolas.“ Elrond tried again and let a bit of sternness flow into his voice. “Your leg needs tending and I’m a healer. I can make it better. May I?”

Instantly recognizing this tone the elfling raised startled eyes at the stranger. This one is used to a commanding tone, Glorfindel thought.

Although Elrond thought that he would be denied again the elfling spoke with a soft voice. “Alright, I permit you to look at it.” Glorfindel turned in an effort to hide his amused smile. The boy had been raised properly.

Carefully Elrond reached out and rolled the leg of the legging up. To his surprise and dismay he revealed a deep bite wound and a few deep scratches.

“It hurts a lot,” Legolas admitted while taking quick shallow breaths.

“That I can imagine, little one,” Elrond said sympathetically while taking a closer look.

“How did you acquire these?” Glorfindel asked pointing at the injuries.

Legolas pondered the question only briefly and answered with a soft voice. “The big wolves lunged at me while sitting on Nana’s horse. They killed the horse and hurt Nana too.” Again the lower lip begun to tremble and the boy stopped.

Gorfindel closed his eyes. This little one had not only witnessed an orc and warg attack but seen how his mother had been attacked and injured too.

While Glorfindel was still distracting the elfling Elrond had managed to clean and bind the wound. When the elfling started crying again Elrond opened his arms and this time the child moved willingly into the comforting embrace.

Rocking back and forth and stroking the fair hair Elrond was quickly able to calm the boy.

“Don’t cry,” Glorfindel said softly while patting the boy’s arm. “We will bring you back home safely, Thranduilion!”

The healer’s head snapped up. Incredulously he looked at his companion. His surprise however lasted only a moment. He gently raised the boy’s chin with his finger and suddenly he knew what familiarity had struck him when he had looked at the elfling.

The boy was unmistakably the youngest son of King Thranduil. How could he have missed it in the first place? The elfling was a perfect copy of his father. Releasing the child’s chin he gently pulled him closer against his chest.

The crying had already stopped. Elrond had never met the Elvenking´s youngest son, yet he could not be mistaken and the smile on Glorfindel´s face confirmed that the warrior was also sure.

Holding the exhausted elfling in his arms Elrond continued to lull the child further into sleep. Glorfindel was sitting opposite of him still regarding the boy with an unreadable expression on his face.

However, the healer didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what thoughts were crossing the warrior’s mind. To find the youngest prince of Mirkwood wounded and confused in the wild was a shock to both of them.

The Lord of Imladris did not know the King of Mirkwood well enough to judge his family affaires but one thing he knew with certainty. The Sindar King was extremely protective of his children and Legolas was much too young to even leave the near surroundings of the palace. So, what was the elfling doing out here alone? The King must be out of his mind with worry.

Yet, the few jumbled words Legolas had spoken had disturbed the healer even more. The elfling said that his mother – the Queen of Mirkwood no less – had been attacked.

Had Legolas and his mother really been victims of an orc attack? What had they been doing deep in the woods? Had the Queen been wounded or, even worse, killed?

Mirkwood and its inhabitants had always borne the heaviest burden of orc activity in their own territory. Elrond felt that since Thranduil was the one ruler without a ring of power to support him the King’s struggles, although valiant would prove futile in the long run.

If he was now forced to fight these battles without the supportive presence of his wife then the house of Oropher would face even darker times ahead.

“I wonder how much time has passed since the attack. What has become of the guards? Has King Thranduil already been informed that his youngest is missing?” Glorfindel asked while he folded his thick clock and placed it next to the fire he had kindled.

Elrond had asked himself those questions already and so only frowned while he placed the now deeply asleep child on the cloak. He checked again on the bandage and was relieved to find no fresh blood on the little one’s lower leg. Gently he placed his own cloak over the boy.

Briefly he closed his eyes and prayed to the Valar that the Queen of Mirkwood had survived the attack. He could not even imagine how his own family would survive losing a beloved wife and mother.

“At least this little one will return home safely,” Glorfindel said while squeezing the arm of the dark haired elf reassuringly. Elrond smiled in gratitude. Even if his return journey would be delayed he would gladly make sure that at least this lost soul was returned back to where it belonged.

This was no idle promise. They already bore grave tidings for the King yet they could at least relieve Thranduil’s fear that his youngest son was lost too.

To be continued……………………