Part 9.  Danger and Death

After knocking on the door several times, with ever increasing force, and receiving no response Tathar decided that Legolas was not in his bedchamber.

“Maybe he is already in the dining hall, waiting for me,” suggested Faelas brightly. Tathar smiled at his small son and lifted him into his arms as he twirled around, causing the child to dissolve into giggles and earning himself a choking hug around the neck from the small one.

“Perhaps he is,” he agreed.

 “Can we go and find him, Ada?” Faelas asked, turning quite serious for a moment. “We are supposed to be looking for a gift for Nana’s conception day. It is tomorrow you know,” he explained with a worried look on his little face. Tathar laughed.

“Of course I know, why do you think Nana has been telling us every day this week that she is in desperate need of a new spinning wheel?” he asked his son.

“Are you making one in secret? Can I help?” enquired Faelas, obviously delighted with the notion.

“It is already finished, but next year we will make her gift together,” Tathar promised the disappointed child. “Ah, here comes the King’s Steward, maybe he has seen Legolas this morning,” he said loudly, relieved to see the smile return to the child’s face.

“Nay, I have come to wake him at this hour, as he requested last night,” answered the Steward with a meaningful glance at Tathar. Several patrols had returned the previous afternoon, and long into the night there had been much merrymaking, and perhaps a little over indulgence of wine on the part of the warriors, Legolas included. “I believe he and a certain young Elf have an important task to take care of today,” he added with a cheerful smile for Faelas.

“He does not seem to be here,” said Tathar.

“Are you sure? He is not in the dining hall,” said the Steward as he soundlessly lifted the handle and pushed the door open just far enough to enable him to see inside the room. Legolas was indeed still abed, and apparently fast asleep.  Tathar peered over the elder Elf’s shoulder at his friend, and before he knew what was happening, Faelas freed himself from his Ada’s arms, jumped lightly to the floor and pushed past them both.

“I think you can be certain your task is about to be well handled,” Tathar told the Steward dryly.

“Ai, then I will be about my other duties,” he replied. As he turned to leave, his amusement was plain to see in the brightness of his eyes.

“Wake up, Legolas!” Faelas shouted as he ran to the bedside, only to scream with delight as he was caught unexpectedly by two strong arms and lifted onto the bed. Tathar felt a glow of happiness surround him as he observed the heart warming display of affection between the two. Legolas loved the child almost as if he was his own, and in turn, Faelas adored the King’s son.  He was often heard telling anyone who would listen that when he grew up he wanted to be as good an archer as ‘his’ Legolas.

“I am awake, I was merely pretending to be asleep to annoy your Ada,” Legolas whispered conspiratorially to the child as he tickled him.

“I do not think it worked,” Faelas managed to reply in between bursts of laughter.

“I was not annoyed before, but I am now. It was very impolite of you to ignore me, Legolas. You are teaching my son some very bad habits,” declared Tathar joining in the spirit of the game by pretending to be angry with Legolas.

“If only Adar could hear you now,” said Legolas, laughing uncontrollably at the very accusations Thranduil often levelled at Tathar. His friend somehow managed to retain his composure as he realised what he had just said.

“I think you should be punished for your rude behaviour,” he added imitating the tone of voice Thranduil used when dealing with misdemeanours of the young.

“Oh, well spoken, mellon nin,” Legolas managed to say before both he and Tathar laughed uproariously, causing Faelas to wonder what was so amusing. He decided it must be one of those jests that only adults understood, and turned his attention back to Tathar’s threat.

“No Ada, please do not order him to stay in his room! We have to find Nana’s gift,” exclaimed Faelas, assuming that his Ada would employ his usual method of discipline.

“Indeed you do, and because I do not wish to disappoint Faelas, or Mirieth for that matter, I will forgive you this time Legolas, but do not let it happen again. Now get dressed!” he ordered, taking Faelas by the hand and leading him from the chamber to allow Legolas his privacy.

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Faelas quickly finished his morning meal and waited impatiently for Legolas to do likewise.

“Faelas please take these bread crumbs and feed the birds,” asked Tariel in an attempt to distract her great-grandson from watching every morsel Legolas placed in his mouth. Legolas smiled his thanks, and soon finished his meal, much to the child’s relief.

“Are you certain Nana has never seen the flowers we are looking for before?” a small voice in the distance called. Faelas was not content to stroll along the Elf Path at the leisurely pace Legolas was keeping; instead he had skipped ahead, and was searching among the grass for his quarry.

“I am certain, just as I am certain you are inviting danger by straying so far ahead. Please come back and walk with me, the forest is very lovely today,” said Legolas, evoking an instant obedience from the child that not even Mirieth could always accomplish.

“Is it really scary in the dark parts of the wood where you patrol?” asked Faelas shivering slightly with fear that was quickly dispelled as Legolas took his small hand in his.

“It is frightening, but eventually the fear can be overcome, however the danger remains,” he told his young charge.

“But it is safe as long as I stay on the Path,” said Faelas, repeating the lesson that was one of the first taught to the children.

“Ai, but you should still be wary at all times,” Legolas warned him.

“Then how are we going to get the flowers? You told me they were deep in the forest, not on the Path,” enquired Faelas, looking and sounding confused at the apparent contradiction.

 Legolas considered his reply for a few moments, not because he had been caught by the child’s perceptiveness, but because Faelas had not listened closely when he had been told of the unusual bloom. Legolas did not wish to upset his young friend, but he needed to correct his mistake.

“I see you were far to enamoured by my description of the flowers to fully remember what else I said about them,” observed Legolas.

“You definitely told me they were small white flowers with petals so thin that you could almost see through them, and you discovered them by chance because they seemed to glow like stars in the dark of night,” Faelas said staring defiantly at Legolas and waiting for his affirmation.

“Ai, I see you remember a great deal, but you forgot that I also said I found a small patch of these a few paces from the Path. They were in too much light to glow, but I am certain they are the same flowers,” he told the child.

“How can you be sure?” asked Faelas. Legolas frowned slightly and privately wondered just how many questions the young Elf could think to ask.

“They have the same perfume, and sing with the same voice,” he replied.

“Oh. Is it much further?” Faelas asked. Legolas sighed heavily.

“It is still a few hours’ walk. If you promise not to go too far ahead,  I will permit you to explore the Path on your own,” he said, convincing himself that it was wiser to allow the child to do so, thus allowing them to travel in relative silence, the better to be able to listen for sounds of danger.

It was already well into the afternoon when they reached the part of the forest where the flowers were to be found, but before they collected enough to make a garland for Mirieth to wear on her special day, Legolas insisted they rest a while and eat  the fruit and nuts he had brought for their midday meal. As they ate, he scanned the surrounding forest floor, his keen eyes quickly finding the small patch of flowers several paces beyond the edge of the Path.

“Look, there they are,” he said to Faelas as he placed gentle hands on the child’s shoulders and turned him to face in the direction he was pointing. “Do you see them?”

“Those pretty white ones, peeking from underneath the fallen leaves?” the child asked excitedly.

“Ai, you wait here while I go and pick some for you,” Legolas told him, looking anxiously at the rapidly descending twilight and berating himself for misjudging the time it would take to reach this place. They would not arrive back at the Hall until well after dark, and despite the safety of the Path, it had been no idle warning he had given Faelas earlier. Even the most protected places were not totally immune to danger.

 Although he had not heard or seen anything of concern, he nevertheless carried his bow and arrow at the ready as he moved from the protection of the Path into the forest. He quickly picked just enough flowers to suit his purpose and was about to return to Faelas when he felt a sudden chill in the air, and sensed a nameless evil approaching. Thinking the danger was from spiders he quickly ran back to the child and found him a hiding place beneath a large fallen log, telling Faelas to remain quiet and still as he covered him with fallen leaves. The feeling of evil persisted as the last of Anor’s light faded into inky blackness, and Legolas could now hear unfamiliar footsteps approaching.

Despite remembering his last encounter with the spiders, Legolas decided to risk a brief climb into one of the trees near the edge of the Path, in the hope of seeing what it was that approached. All Elves were familiar with, and fiercely hated orcs, but until now, Legolas had never seen one, let alone three. The creatures were truly as ugly and cruel looking as he had heard, and he decided to remain where he was and attack them as they passed nearby.

Unfortunately, he was not aware that they could also sense his presence and was momentarily taken aback as they moved openly toward his location, raising their bows as they approached. As good an archer as he was, he could still only kill one at a time, and he did so swiftly, groaning with pain as the arrow from the last orc to fall grazed his upper arm. 

As he had been taught to do, Legolas ignored the pain and used his knife and his good arm to ensure that his assailants were no longer a threat, and then fashioned a sling for his injured arm. He was in a great deal of pain, and was shocked to realise that the burning sensation around the arrow head was slowly travelling through his body.  Poison! 

Not knowing what effect the poison would have, but already feeling very light headed, Legolas quickly returned to Faelas, and took the terrified child, who was now sobbing uncontrollably and shivering with fear and shock at all he had witnessed, into his arms. He whispered soothing words until the child calmed down, and continued to hold him close despite the pain in his shoulder.

“You have been very brave, and your Ada will be very proud of you when he hears about this,” Legolas said slowly, having trouble speaking the words. “But you have to be even more courageous, for I have been poisoned and I do not know how long I can stay awake,” he said, seeing no need to tell Faelas that he might even die.

“I will watch over you, and hold your hand until you are well,” offered the child, innocently thinking that was what was required. He had only ever been ill once, and that was from eating green berries and he remembered Nana’s remedy.

“Nay, it is too dangerous for you to be here, and I am in need of our Healer,” insisted Legolas, struggling to remain conscious. “You must run as swiftly as you can back to your Adar and tell him where to find me. Keep to the Path and do not stop until you are safely home. Do you think you can do this?” he asked as his vision began to cloud.

“Ai, I will run faster than the swiftest deer, and will not stop until I reach Ada,” affirmed the child. As Legolas lost his battle to remain conscious, he felt a small hand gently brush the sweat soaked hair from his forehead to be replaced by the softness of a child’s kiss.

Faelas tried desperately to wake Legolas, but it was no use. He did not want to leave him lying in the grass, but knew he did not have the strength to move him to a safer place, if there was one. Tears of frustration and fear filled his eyes, and he began to cry uncontrollably again as he rested his head on the limp shoulder of his friend. He smiled with relief as a strong arm wrapped around his small shoulders, and as he lifted his head to smile at Legolas, his eyes widened with fear.

“You are not Legolas,” he whispered to the man whose arm still held him.

“Nay my name is Gilbard, what is yours?” he asked.

“Faelas.”

“Well, Faelas, you are too young to be a warrior, but there are three dead orcs over there. I suppose your friend killed them and was injured in the battle?” he asked in a voice filled with gentleness and compassion.

“He was trying to protect me… from those…” Faelas said indicating the dead orcs with a nod of his head. “Please let me go, he needs a Healer.” The man quickly released the elf child.

“You are not my prisoner, but it is too dangerous for you to travel through these woods alone and even more so at night. I do not know where the Elvenking’s palace is located, but I and some of my men will travel with you as your guard. We are quite skilled with the bow,” he added.

“No one is as good as Legolas!” declared Faelas hotly.  “And strangers are not allowed in the King’s Halls…” his words halted by a deep groan of agony from Legolas.

“I am not exactly a stranger. I have met your friend before. Legolas is the son of the King, is he not? Surely King Thranduil will make an exception to his rule to save his son?  Faelas, he will die if he is not treated soon,” said the man. The words were cruel but necessary, and Faelas, whose only experience with death was lying in the grass behind him, knew he did not want that to happen to Legolas.

“Ai, I will show you the way,” he agreed. Gilbard watched the distraught young Elf kneel beside his friend, but did not hear his quietly whispered words. “Ada will be here soon, and he will be very annoyed at you if you die.”

 The leader then gave a piercing whistle and several other hunters appeared from among the trees. “I think we have seen the last of the orcs for a time, so three of you stand guard over the Elf, and the rest come with me,” he ordered, gesturing for Faelas to lead the way.

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The young Elf was extremely weary from his emotional ordeal, and was having difficulty keeping up with the men, so it was decided that they would take turns carrying him. The journey was still too slow, as far as Gilbard was concerned, so he was greatly relieved when they encountered some of Thranduil’s border guards after only a few hours travel. Once the situation was explained, one of the guards swiftly carried the message to Thranduil, who despatched the Healer, and an escort to meet the men. It was almost an hour before the men reached the bridge at the entrance to the Halls they were met by the Elves, who disappeared swiftly into the treetops once they learned of Legolas’s location.

Thus it was that Gilbard was not surprised the find the anxious parents waiting to comfort their son. Mirieth burst into tears when she saw the state her beloved Faelas was in, and kissed the dirty tear tracks on his cheeks. Seeing the child’s tunic was covered in blood, Tathar examined his son for wounds and was very relieved to find none.

“Do you know from where this blood comes?’ he gently asked his son. Faelas nodded.

“Legolas. Please Ada, I do not want him to die like those orcs,” whimpered the child.

“You know the Healer has already left and will be there soon. He will know what to do,” Mirieth reassured him as she hushed his sobs with kisses before one of the other Healers lead the tearful mother and child to the healing hall. Tathar was relieved his son was not injured, but was deeply concerned for his friend, and asked leave to go with Thranduil.

“I know you are torn between your concern for Legolas and your son, but your place is with Faelas, just as mine is with Legolas,” Thranduil told the young adar, who nodded his thanks at having the difficult decision made for him and headed swiftly for the healing house.

Thranduil offered the men some refreshments before they returned to find Legolas, and when Gilbard declined, saying that they may be needed as guides, Thranduil managed a weak smile.

 “You have time to rest without concern, for my people will easily be able to track my son. You are welcome to wait here until we return, if you wish,” he added.

“Thank you, but no. We also have families who will be very worried about our absence,” he told the King. Thranduil nodded with complete understanding.

 “Then we are ready to leave now, perhaps you will ride with me so we can discuss this attack?” he suggested. Gilbard readily agreed, and by the time they reached Legolas, the Elvenking and the leader of the village had agreed to exchange information about any unusual creatures or happenings that occurred in the part of the forest they shared.

Thranduil felt the sting of fear as he saw Legolas lying in the grass, and he moved swiftly to his son’s side, unknowingly mimicking Faelas as he pushed a few stray hairs from the his brow and then kissed him gently. Taking one of the cold, seemingly lifeless hands in his, he looked up at the Healer.

“The arrow head that caused the injury was indeed poisoned, Your Majesty, but, thank the Valar, by one of the more commonly used substances. I have given him the antidote, but I expect it will be several weeks before he has fully recovered,” the Elf explained.

“That is good news, and now that we have done our duty, we will take our leave,” Gilbard said to Thranduil.

“I am truly thankful to you and your men, both for protecting Legolas and for seeing Faelas safely home. Should you ever require the assistance of the Wood Elves, you have but to ask,” Thranduil said graciously, placing his hand on his heart in a gesture of both respect and farewell.