Dark Dreams

As dark tendrils of shadow from the south clawed ever more insistently at the back of his mind, Thranduil found it increasingly difficult to find rest. His dreams were haunted with the sights and sounds of the battlefield so long ago, always ending with the tear in his heart as he watched Oropher fall to the sword of evil.

This night the images had been particularly vivid and he rose from his bed, almost grateful for the knowledge that sleep would elude him for the rest of the night, for so would the dream and the sense of foreboding that came with it. Donning a robe to cover his sleeping shirt, he decided to seek solace in the kitchen that, with its ever burning fire was always a place of warmth and cheer, even in the early hours before dawn. He moved silently along the passageway, stopping briefly at the door to Legolas’s chamber, suddenly feeling the need to look in on his sleeping son as he had often done when he was a child. His son had suffered much in recent times, and Thranduil found himself becoming angry at the dark forces that had made warriors of all the younger Mirkwood Elves, stealing their innocence in the process.

A frown of concern creased Thranduil’s brow as he saw that although the sheets were in disarray, there was no golden haired head on the pillow and he stepped into the room and softly called to his son.

“Out here, Ada,” replied Legolas. He was fully awake and standing out on the balcony, gazing upwards.

“What are you doing out here?” asked Thranduil as he followed his son’s upraised eyes.

“I am playing a game with the trees,” whispered Legolas as he turned his shining eyes towards Thranduil who looked confused. “See how the leaves are moving, they are trying to hide the stars from me, and I am foiling their attempt, for when I sing to the jewels in the sky, they shine so brightly that I can easily see them through the foliage,” he explained in a voice reminiscent of the elf child he once was. Thranduil laughed and drew his son close.

“At least one of us is in a carefree mood this night,” he said. Legolas stiffened slightly and shook his head.

“It is my way of dealing with the nightmares,” he said softly, the melancholy in his voice was like a knife in the King’s heart.

“It appears we are both plagued with dark dreams tonight,” he sighed sadly, tenderly kissing the golden silk that rested beneath his chin.

“Does the shadow haunt your sleep again Ada?” asked Legolas with concern as he moved so that he could see the cherished face.

“Ai, the torment is somewhat stronger lately, but perhaps some warm milk and a pastry or two will aid us both,” he suggested as they stepped back into the bed chamber. Legolas smiled and nodded his agreement as he picked up his robe and arm in arm they headed quietly for the kitchen.

No one was about, for it was still far too early for even the bread making to begin, yet to Legolas’s surprise there was some milk warming on the stove, and two mugs and a selection of pastries waiting for them on the table.

“I wonder if Tariel is in fact related to Galadriel,” commented Thranduil dryly as he easily guessed who had been there before them. Legolas laughed and poured the milk and the two sat in silence as they enjoyed their treat.

“I think I will have to finally send a patrol to scout as close to Dol Guldur as possible. I am certain that is where my unrest lies,” said Thranduil after several minutes of contemplation.

“I think a patrol will not be wise, Ada. Such a venture requires secrecy that will not be possible with a large group of Elves, no matter how stealthily we move. Tathar and I will go,” Legolas the warrior and patrol leader told Thranduil. The King looked as his son as if seeing him for the first time in that role, and felt enormous pride in him, and he also had to defer to the wisdom of his words.

“A well considered plan, but fraught with danger,” he replied slowly, not really willing to risk losing his son. Legolas sensed his fears and placed a reassuring hand on his Ada’s arm.

“Tathar knows those parts of the woods better than anyone, and I have your ability to sense the darkness. We are best suited for the task, and we will return,” he said with confidence.

                                                          **********

Tathar ripped another large thread of spider web from his hair, and turned to glare at Legolas who seemed to be able to avoid the grey filaments hanging from the trees that were attracted to him.

“Mellon nin, the next time you feel the need to volunteer me for a mission, make sure it is something really unpleasant, like escorting the wine casks back from Lake Town,” he said with deliberate sarcasm.

“Are you not enjoying our adventure so far?” asked Legolas innocently, reaching to take a sticky thread from Tathar’s hair.

“Adventure! Sneaking up on whatever is infesting Dol Guldur, when Mithrandir warned us to keep away, I might add, is hardly an adventure!” he declared in the loudest whisper he dared, ever mindful of the need to pass through the dangerous territory unnoticed. They had been travelling south for well over a week, and as they neared their destination, shadows grew ever darker and the air more oppressive, not only from the lack of sunlight that could not penetrate into the thickness of the trees, but from the feeling of evil that even Tathar could now sense. They both stopped suddenly, fully alert as the sound of twigs breaking beneath boots reached their ears, and in less than a heartbeat the Elves had hidden themselves, arrows at the ready as the noises grew louder.

“By the Valar!” they heard someone curse, followed by the sound of a body falling heavily to the forest floor. Silence. Legolas glanced at Tathar, and following a wordless command, they crept forward slowly and noiselessly to the source of the sound. Legolas approached the fallen figure cautiously while Tathar stood armed and at the ready to defend his friend. Had it not been for the long grey beard, and the piercing eyes that looked on him with fear that turned swiftly to relieved recognition, Legolas would not have recognised the bruised and scarred one as Mithrandir. He quickly eased his arms around the obviously battered body and lifted the wizard to rest his head in his lap. Still keeping his senses on guard, Tathar bent down and offered the old man some water, which he drank thirstily.

“What happened to you?” asked Legolas.

“I tripped on one of those accursed roots,” replied Mithrandir as he sat up and examined his rather swollen ankle. Legolas and Tathar exchanged an exasperated glance; even in this state the Istar was obtuse.

“I meant, what happened before that. Why are you here, and who hurt you?” he asked in a tone that demanded a sensible answer.

“I have escaped from the Necromancer, not without some damage as you see. He is not what he seems and I must call an urgent Council meeting,” he replied failing in his attempt to stand. “Help me walk Legolas. We cannot afford to linger here too long for I may have been followed.”

“We can take refuge in the deserted village we saw not far from here,” suggested Tathar.

“Nay, I need to speak to Galadriel, I must go to Lothlórien,” insisted Mithrandir as he reached for his staff that he had dropped when he fell. Legolas wondered how it was that he had escaped with it intact, but decided not to ask; knowing he was not likely that he would receive a sensible answer.

“Then we will take you there. The village is close to the river and there is sure to be a boat or raft we can use to take you across the Anduin to Lothlórien,” said Legolas as he helped his friend stand.

“Excellent! Lead the way, Tathar!”” declared Mithrandir with his usual cheerfulness that did not mask the pain and concern in his eyes.

After several gruelling hours, and an unexpected stop to defend themselves from attack by a small band of spiders, they finally arrived at what remained of the village. Tathar and his scouts had escorted the survivors to safety after the attack several months ago, and now there was little but burnt shells of huts and the rotting remains of the orcs that the Elves had left exposed to the elements. Legolas settled Mithrandir beneath one of the lesser damaged trees and then joined Tathar in search of a craft to bear them across the river.

“There are only two small boats, both of which need to be repaired before we can use them,” Tathar said as Legolas bent to inspect them for himself.

“It should not be too difficult; we only need to reach the opposite shore. I am certain the Galadhrim will lend us one of theirs to return in,” said Legolas as he stood and looked to the distant shore where he could easily make out the small stream that was the tributary leading to the haven in Lothlórien. “Besides, I doubt our presence on the river will go unnoticed. Dol Guldur threatens the Golden Wood as well.”

They chose the less damaged boat to repair, and using skills learned from the River Elves, they soon had the craft more or less watertight. As they were helping the Istar to climb aboard, the trees suddenly whispered a warning in their fear and anger as a band of orcs trampled their way destructively towards the village.

“Quickly, Legolas! They have found us!’ said Tathar needlessly as the two Elves applied their strength to push the boat across the rocky shore and into the water. They had barely moved into the deeper stream before a hail of arrows rained down on them.

“Row, Tathar!” said Legolas as he stood sure footed and, without even rocking the boat, quickly dispatched a volley of arrows at the enemy on the shore. They were soon out of danger, for the other boat that they had used for spare wood to repair their own was useless to the orcs.

As Legolas had predicted, the guards on the western shore were well aware of their approach, and the orcs who had been pursuing them, and several boats were sent to meet them and escort them safely to the haven where Galadriel and Celeborn waited to greet them.

“I see you have managed to find yourself some mischief,” said Celeborn lightly to Mithrandir as he took in his battered appearance.

“More than you know, Celeborn,” he replied seriously. “However I have these fine young warriors to thank for my safety,” he added with a smile of gratitude and affection for Legolas and Tathar.

“Your news can wait until your wounds have been tended,” said Galadriel gently, offering the Istar her arm as support as she lead him to the healing talan. Legolas and Tathar could not help but smile as they heard the wizard’s final words.

“There is no need to fuss, Galadriel… however, a nice goblet of your fine wine might ease the pain of my ankle somewhat.”

Celeborn raised an eyebrow in amusement and then turned his attention to the Mirkwood Elves.

“I easily recognise you, Thranduilion, but who is your brave companion?” he asked Legolas.

“This is my dear friend, Tathar, my lord,” he replied respectfully as Tathar bowed politely.

“Welcome to Lothlórien, Tathar. Please come and join me in some refreshments while we are waiting for Mithrandir, for I am certain there will be a message for you to take to Thranduil shortly,” said Celeborn as he led them to the talan that was his and Galadriel’s home.

“I think we must follow a different route back to Mirkwood,” said Legolas as they sat on the balcony enjoying the beauty of the mellryn of Calas Galadhon, and the fruit and wine they had been served.

“Ai, I do not wish to face those ugly creature Legolas was shooting at, they are probably very angry by now,” said Tathar light heartedly.

“I imagine they are,” agreed Celeborn with mirth in his eyes. “I will have Haldir escort you to the northern march where you will be able to safely cross the Anduin.”

                                                          **********

Thranduil was relieved to see the two returned safely and listened attentively to Legolas’s report, before reading the final words of the lengthy message from Celeborn once again and smiled.

“It is necessary for the White Council to meet and discuss this situation, and I ask that Mirkwood host the meeting, for the shadow hangs more heavily over your realm than elsewhere at present and I know you are unwilling to leave.

May the Valar protect you all, mellon nin

Celeborn.”