Chapter Twenty-six

  Eryn Lasgalen

  Northwest of the Elvenking's halls

  21 Lothron Year 29 Fourth Age

Legolas stared curiously at the elf-woman standing over him. So, this was Olrendis, known to most who knew the tale as the Dream Wanderer, although his mother had used her name, Rainiriel, when she told him and his siblings the legend as she weaved grass chains to place on their hair.

Now that he knew who she was, he was confused, for according to the story his mother had told him, Rainiriel only helped her descendants or those of the elf from which she had been parted so long ago…and he had never heard of her appearing in the form of a child. Rainiriel smiled at him soothingly, as if sensing his confusion, and explained. "Yes, I only appear to those whom I will and may choose which form in which to do so. Your love of children made you receptive to a child, so I chose that form to come to you. I appeared the same with Oropher, although for different reasons — but he chose not to heed my warning." Her countenance fell. Legolas stared at her. Why would she have appeared to Oropher? His mind began to race, distracting him from the fatigue and hurts of his body. Could he be related to this woman? It was the only explanation he could come up with, and yet it was disconcerting to think he was of some importance to a legend from a story which his mother had told him as a child. Rainiriel continued, "My purpose in this life is to aid my family — those I love. It is not my place to interfere with your lives, only offer guidance." "Our lives?" Legolas asked. It was all becoming clear to him now. She had told him that he was the reason she was alone in the wood. And she had appeared to his grandfather as well.

The lady knelt next to him and caressed his cheek. "Yes, your life, for you are the last of both lines." Both lines?

Legolas did not know how that could be. His mother's family was Silvan, had lived in the Greenwood long years before Oropher had come. His grandfather was from Doriath, descended from Thingol's brother, Elmo. He had never considered the legend to be concerning his own family, nor could he figure out how it could be so.

"I do not understand, how coul—" She placed a finger to his lips and smiled, her midnight eyes wandering over his face in a loving caress. "Shhh…I will tell you, dear one." Rainiriel stroked Legolas's hair from his face as she spoke, and he could not help but lean into the touch, so like his mother's.

"You know the legend, how my first love, Bronor, settled in Doriath and had a son before he was killed."

Legolas nodded.

"Rinthon was his name, and he fell in love with the daughter of Elmo, Thingol's brother."

That explained a lot, Legolas thought. Because Elmo's grandson was—

"Rinthon had a son — a tall determined elf, a natural leader among his people, though stubborn as the dwarves he despised. After the War of Wrath, he left Doriath with some of the Sindar and traveled here." She smiled. Legolas drew in a long breath as he listened to the tale. He never had guessed the tale was true, that his mother's bedtime stories had been telling him the history of his own family!

"Before Oropher left Doriath, he married and had a son with golden hair and emerald green eyes. Oropher named him Thranduil. So you see, you are of the line that I protect.  But that is not all."

Legolas knew now. As she spoke, he had seen the similarities, and certain things had come back to him. The grass chains—

Rani's grass chains had started a nagging in him, a familiarity that he had not been able to place. Now he knew.

"My granddaughter, Lamlenniel, moved from Eriador with her husband and her daughter. They settled here in the Greenwood and lived peacefully for some time. My granddaughter's daughter was beautiful, kind-hearted and she loved to sing. They named her Laerwen. She fell in love with Oropher's son and they married. Thranduil and Laerwen unknowingly bound our families together. And you, dear Legolas, are the last of our family here in Arda."

Rainiriel paused to wipe several tears that had slipped from his eyes. "Then you are my mother's great-grandmother?" he asked, amazed at how he fit into the legend told him so long ago. But even as his mind was captivated, and he longed to ask why she had not revealed herself before now, his body ached for sleep, exhausted from days of no rest and weakened by injury. He forced his eyes to stay open to hear what Rainiriel had to say to him.

Rainiriel nodded, continuing to stroke his hair. "Yes, and I have come to aid you. You must hold on to hope, Legolas, and listen to those who would help you, before you destroy yourself." Legolas yawned, then frowned., "Destroy myself? How?"

Her fingers played over his hair and soothed him in the same manner his mother's once had. It was how his mother had put him to sleep as a child.

"I will only tell you to listen to those closest to you, hear them and the wisdom they offer. They see much of that which harms you." She paused and looked down at Lancaeriel. "And befriend this one, Legolas. Listen to her and cherish her friendship, for you need her as much as she needs you — for in the end, it is she who will save you." Now that was confusing.

"Save me from what?" Legolas asked, trying to understand all that he had learned this day.

But the lack of rest, the pain and loss of blood, the call of the sea took their toll. His eyes drifted closed as Rainiriel continued her soothing stroking of his face and hair. Faintly, he thought he heard her say, "Grief…" but he was not certain she had spoken at all.

As Legolas sank from consciousness, the last thing he remembered was the caress on his face, and a soft kiss to his brow. As the youngest prince of Eryn Lasgalen sank into a healing sleep leaning against a tall beech, Rainiriel stood and looked fondly down at him. "Farewell, dear one. Until we meet again…"

With those final words, she faded from sight.

— o —

Aragorn strode through the woods with determination. The trail was clear. Legolas was not trying to hide his passing. That troubled him, given the evidence of death in that clearing. His heart pounded with his exertions, but despite his fatigue from their hard journey north and the steady travel searching for Legolas, he pressed onwards, continuing to follow the traces of Legolas's passing — a trail of footprints and blood. The elf had begun to stumble more and more as he made his way due southeast in a direct line towards Thranduil's empty halls.

Glancing behind him, Aragorn watched Gimli walk between Daesûl and Moroch, reaching up from time to time to stroke one of the animals or speak softly to them. The sight lightened Aragorn's heart somewhat. In the past, the dwarf had complained about the need for horses and accused Legolas of being flighty for speaking to them, and yet, here he was, carrying on a conversation with the animals! What would Legolas think of such a thing, or was he aware that Gimli had come to love the beasts? It was a discussion Aragorn would enjoy, but first, he had to find the elf. And said elf had better be in a condition to hold such a conversation! Overhead, a bird burst into song, and Aragorn's eyes turned to look for it. He caught sight of the small golden finch just before it spread its wings and flew off. The forest that had been known as Mirkwood only a few decades prior — a short time in the life of a forest — now hummed with life, healed by the elves of the evil that had once dwelt in it. The trees were healthy and the spring air was full of the smell of growing things.

He paused at a place where it looked as if Legolas had stumbled hard. The elf was struggling at this point, from loss of blood or exertion from the load he carried, Aragorn was unsure, but he worried for his friend. Soon. They must find him soon. He followed the trail around a tree, then jerked to a stop.

Their search was over.

Legolas sat against a tall beech tree, the side of his face leaning against the great trunk and his clothing a mess of blood. Lying on the ground next to him appeared to be a wounded elf woman, although Aragorn could not ascertain whether the blood upon her clothing was hers or belonged to his wounded friend.

He released a breath and strode over to the elf, squatting down on his heels before Legolas. Behind him, he heard the horses stop, and Gimli's murmured curse, but the dwarf did not join him. Daethul whickered softly.

Aragorn reached out and placed a hand on the elf's shoulder. Legolas's eyelids flickered, then opened, slowly.

The elf stared at him for a moment, then frowned. His voice was hoarse as he asked, "Am I in trouble?" In uncharacteristic fashion, Legolas's lips did not so much as quirk in a smile. He stared wearily at Aragorn.

Aragorn nodded slowly, then let his eyes travel over the blood stained clothing. "You look terrible." His comment brought a soft smile to Legolas's face. The elf straightened a bit before replying. "I believe that is my line." "Not this time." Aragorn smiled back before his eyes dropped to the woman lying beside his friend.

Legolas sobered as he looked at the woman, and said, "Can you help her? Please?"

"Of course, my friend," Aragorn answered, concerned. "But who is she?" Legolas met his eyes and smiled again, his eyes lighting. "A friend." FOOTNOTES

A/N - The elf captain Elrond heard about at the Last Alliance was the only other elf to see the golden haired child speaking to King Oropher. No one from the Greenwood saw her or heard about her, thus Rainiriel appearing in the guise of a child would not have been known in Legolas' home, and in fact, the legend was little known anywhere. Legolas heard it from his mother, for she was of Silvan descent.