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Despair and Delight  by jenolas

Despair and Delight

Legolas wandered listlessly through the forest, his mood so dark and sombre that not even the beauty of the soft golden sunlight filtering through the leaves eased his pain. The Fellowship had arrived in Lothlórien over a month ago, full of sadness and despair at the loss of Gandalf, and whilst the others seemed to have gradually recovered their spirits whilst under the protection of the Lady Galadriel, as yet he had been unable to do so. To the Elf, the loss of Gandalf was like an open wound to his sensitive soul, and he was also greatly troubled by the depth of his fear of the cold darkness of the mines deep below the mountains.

Legolas had found it unbearable to be unable to see the stars, or to feel the moonlight on his skin, and his despair had deepened the longer they had remained in that evil place. He should have been stronger, he should have been able to prevent Gandalf from falling, or so he thought, but it seemed as if the very stones in the walls around him had sapped the light and the strength of his spirit from within. He now understood how an Elf could fade away if imprisoned too long in darkness and he shuddered to think that had they been forced to stay much longer in Moria, such would have been his fate.

The Lady Galadriel's words hinting that the Istari's true purpose in Middle Earth was not yet known, and that his loss had been for some higher purpose had provided the Fellowship members with a small measure of comfort, but they did little for the melancholy that gripped the gentle Elvish soul. Legolas knew the others did not truly understand his pain, and so it was that he sought solace amongst his kin than with his friends.

Except for Gimli. The Elf and the Dwarf had become great friends since Moria, and although they joined their companions for the evening meal, they preferred to spend the rest of the time amongst the Galadhrim.

Although it was the dwarf who had suffered the greatest tragedy and loss of kin, he seemed to be extremely resilient, and it had pleased Legolas greatly to find that Gimli had become quite a favourite of many of the Lothlorien elves. He had proven to be an excellent, if not exactly tactful storyteller. He related many tales from ages past, some of which were well known historical events, and some that were happenings that were obviously highly embellished. The Elves knew there was much about the Dwarves that Gimli held in revered secrecy, but he was not pressed to reveal anything he did not wish to discuss.

That Gimli knew a great deal of his own race's history and lore, and was willing to share some of those parts that involved Elves and Dwarves, earned him a great deal of respect from the Galadhrim, just as he learned to respect his hosts. Such tales as those were particular favourites, and generally well received, but since Gimli always spoke plainly and presented his own kin in a favourable light, many heated debates often followed the conclusion to a story. To Legolas's relief, no one in Calas Galadhon carried weapons, or there might have been more than harsh words exchanged on occasion.

Aside from storytelling, Gimli was also in great demand by the craftsman who wanted to compare their stone working and metal forging skills with one of the his race. In fact, that was why Legolas was alone right now, for his friend had been lured away by the promise of a tour of the workshops where the weapons were forged and the elaborate stonework ornaments were being carved.

Rather than return to the pavilion where the others remained, he had decided to take a stroll amongst the peaceful serenity of the ancient mallorn trees of the Golden Wood, giving voice to his mournful mood by singing as he walked. The sound of his voice was sweet and pure as he sang a melancholy song in the language of the trees of his home, the great forest to the north. The words told of his sadness, of the shadow that now shrouded his home, and his hidden longing to return to help in the defence of Mirkwood.

The mallorn trees loved the radiant children of the stars who had made their homes in and around them, and often interrupted their own pondering of matters beyond the understanding of any but themselves to speak with silent voices to the spirits of those who knew how to listen. There was an air of excitement mixed with curiosity rustling through the leaves this day as one of the new spirits who had recently entered the wood seeking the protection of the Lady, wandered beneath their branches. Of the eight new arrivals, he was the only one of the Firstborn and they greeted him warmly, each distinctive voice sending its message through the hand he gently placed on the trunks as he passed.

Just as his song ended, a single golden leaf fell from the tree Legolas was standing beneath, and drifted lazily in the air, raising and falling at the whim of the whisper of a breeze until it finally reached the ground near his feet. He bent down to carefully pick it up and examine it closely. What had once been a vibrant green leaf full of life was now no more than a dead and withered reminder of the change of season, and a symbol to Legolas of the misfortune that had befallen Mirkwood since the shadow had come to Dol Guldur. Not only were the trees of his home shedding their leaves in preparation for winter, but Thranduil and his warriors were also preparing for the onset of a different yet equally cruel and cold darkness ahead. He looked up into the ageless branches, his heart easily sensing the sympathy and compassion the trees of Lothlórien felt, and he knew they grieved with him. His despair had not lifted, nor did it seem likely to this day, until the sound of someone calling his name brought him back from his dark reverie. Still holding the leaf, he turned to see Gimli walking towards him, a smile of delight on his face.

"Ah, there you are, Legolas! I have been searching for you for hours, or so it seems," said Gimli gruffly as he stomped into the clearing.

"This is a timeless place, I agree, but I did mention that I wanted to take a walk in the woods," replied Legolas deciding to sit on the soft grass and indicating to his friend to join him.

"One part of the woods looks much the same as the other, to my eyes, you know. You did not tell me exactly where you were going so I had to ask Haldir to help me find your trail!" exclaimed Gimli with distaste, causing Legolas to smile. Although the Dwarf had made many friends among the elves, he and the Marchwarden were still not on particularly friendly terms.

"Ai, that can not have been pleasant for you," said Legolas trying to sound sympathetic rather than amused. "What is that you needed to find me for so urgently? I expected you to remain at the forge for the rest of the day."

"I have brought us some lunch, for I know you will neglect to take care of yourself if I am not watchful," Gimli teased, reaching into the sack he was carrying over his shoulder and handing Legolas a piece of lembas before taking one for himself. Legolas accepted it, and the water skin he was offered and they ate in companionable silence. "As for the forge, I intend to return there shortly. I have something else for you besides lembas. It is something I made this morning and that I hope will boost your spirits the next time you find yourself in a place as dark and foreboding as Moria," he said, his embarrassment at his expression of friendly concern for Legolas suddenly causing him to look anywhere but directly at the Elf as he handed him a small box. Aragorn and Gandalf had not been alone in seeing how the Elf had faded the longer he was away from the light of the sun and the stars, and Gimli did not wish to see his friend that pale ever again.

"I do not intend to visit another cave!" declared Legolas vehemently. "However, this is exquisite," he commented as he studied the intricate leaf design that was carved into the fine gold from which the box was made. The box itself was rather small and fitted easily into the palm of his hand, but he spent so long admiring it that Gimli began to grumble his impatience for Legolas to find the gift inside.

"I am happy that you find the workmanship pleasing, but the contents are the actual gift," he explained, watching Legolas' face closely as he slowly opened the lid. For a few moments he just looked inside, unable to speak and Gimli nodded in satisfaction to himself as tears of joy welled in his friend's eyes, making them brighter than ever. Very carefully, Legolas drew out an incredibly thin mithril chain, on the end of which was a single star shaped jewel, wrought in mithril and silver, and which shone with a light as brilliant as any that twinkled in the night sky.

"It is so lovely, it is almost as if you have captured one of the stars," said Legolas as he held the chain, allowing the trinket to hang freely, catching the sunlight and sending radiant flashes back in return.

"That is what I intended. I wanted to give you your own small piece of starlight to carry with you wherever you go. Should you ever find yourself in another dark place, this may help to keep you from fading," he said simply.

"Is this mithril from Moria?" asked Legolas as he hung the chain around his neck, holding the star delicately between his fingers so that he could gaze at it in wonder.

"Aye, I picked up some small pieces when we were in the mines," replied Gimli with a sense of pride.

"My friend, I have no words to thank you for such a thoughtful gift," said Legolas as he quickly embraced the Dwarf before Gimli realised what was happening. He knew full well that his gruff friend would not normally permit such a display

"Hmm... yes... well... think nothing of it," Gimli answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. The smile in his eyes spoke eloquently of his secret pleasure at the display of affection, and he allowed the brief hug before standing up out of Legolas' reach. "I believe it is time I returned to the smith's workshop," he said, sounding a little hesitant. Legolas easily guessed the cause.

"Would you like me to show you the way?" he asked, laughing merrily as Gimli nodded once in agreement. Placing a hand on his friend's shoulder to guide him, Legolas stepped lightly beside his heavy-footed friend as they walked along the trail that led to the workshops, singing as they went.

If the mallorn trees could have smiled with amusement, they certainly would have done, for the woods were now filled with the discordant sound of the sweet Elvish voice and the gruff Dwarfish rumble singing a mining song of Moria.




        

        

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