Chapter 20.  Shadows of the Past

Legolas and Tathar exchanged a look of dismay at the sight that greeted them as they entered the clearing that served as part of the shore of the Long Lake. Lake-town lay in ruins before them. They had come late to join Thranduil and his army, delayed by the need to wait for Legolas’s broken arm to heal properly before he was able to fight once more. Tathar had stayed behind to act as escort, and to assuage his guilt for having inadvertently causing the injury. He had tripped and hit his head on a rock when fighting a band of orcs, and in his confused state of mind, had thought Legolas’s helping hand reaching for him was in fact that of an orc. He had hit it hard with the hilt of his sword, his eyes widening with shock as he had recognised his friend’s loud cry of agony as the bone snapped. Legolas had easily forgiven the mistake, but Tathar felt he had to make amends, especially when Thranduil decided to march after the Dwarves who had escaped his dungeons. As they neared Lake-town, word reached them that the men sought the aid of the Elves in their battle against Smaug, and whilst the Elvenking was not fond of Men, neither could he refuse a plea for assistance and had not hesitated in turning his army towards the Long Lake, sending a messenger back to inform Legolas of his change of plans.

The low water level exposed the rotting trunks of the Mirkwood trees that had once been the foundations of Esgaroth in days gone by and these were now joined by the still smouldering foundations of the recent demolition by the dragon bravely killed by Bard and served to remind them all that unseen evil had long resided in Arda. Such knowledge was enough to explain the feeling of melancholy that hung in the air, but even more heart breaking was the small number of survivors who now sought shelter with the River Elves.

Thranduil had turned his army from their journey east in search of the Dwarf’s treasure to travel to Lake-town at Bard’s request for aid in defeating Smaug, the dragon. All were relieved that Smaug was no more, and that the Men and Elves had put aside their differences in the face of their common enemy. The strength conferred by such unity provided all with a brief respite from despair. Yet tears flowed freely as the Elves sang a soft, sweet lament first for the Men who had died protecting their loved ones, and then for their own kin who had passed to the Halls of Waiting.

Thranduil instructed some of his warriors to help Bard ensure that the fires were all out and to seek along the shores for any others who had escaped the burning town while Legolas and Tathar walked among the remaining townsfolk, mostly women and children, offering what comfort they could.

Both of the young warriors had fond memories of their last visit to the town many years

before when they and Elrond’s sons had spent an evening in the tavern near the Great Hall. They had journeyed to Lake-town by boat as they had planned, leaving well before dawn so that they would arrive by evening. Being more accustomed to water travel, Legolas and Tathar had enjoyed the tranquillity of the waters of the Forest River, and the gentle rocking of the boat, whereas Elladan and Elrohir took some time to adjust. Tathar’s sweet words had convinced them that if they took the oars, the slight discomfort they were feeling would soon disappear. At first Elladan and Elrohir had readily bowed to his advice, but they soon learned it was merely a ruse to make them work. Their ire at being tricked disappeared quickly when they were forced to concede it was indeed a good way to strengthen muscles required for swordplay and archery training, and as such was no real hardship.

 Thranduil and Elrond had been a little wary about giving their sons permission for the trip at the time, but had seen the truth in Glorfindel’s jesting observation that if the four young Elves were to find some mischief while seeking relief from the boredom of waiting for the White Council to finish its deliberations, it would make no difference where they were. He had winked at his young friends; his eyes alight with a wicked gleam when their Adars agreed. As they took their leave he was heard to mutter that had he a choice he would be joining them.

When they arrived in Lake-town later that evening, the tavern was crowded, and finding no Dwarves to annoy, Elladan and Elrohir had decided to direct their attention to the tavern owner’s daughter. In a style not unlike that they had often seen Glorfindel use, they rather outrageously flirted with the maid, not realising that her young suitor was seated nearby, glowering at their behaviour. Elladan was speaking so softly that the young maid had to bend close to his lips to hear his words; a compliment judging by her pretty blush, Legolas had thought at the time. Her young man had thought differently, and in his jealousy had challenged Elladan to a fight. Although the suitor’s courage was not in question, his wisdom at such a rash action was, for he had no hope of defeating a well trained Elf warrior.

The maid’s father knew this, and he also knew that Legolas was the Woodland King’s son, and asked him to intervene. He wished to prevent the young man from being harmed, and to keep his tavern in tact. Legolas and Tathar exchanged an almost guilty smile when they learned his grandfather had told him a tale of the kind of havoc an insulted and angry Elf was capable of wreaking.

Not wishing to harm relations with Thranduil’s trading partners, and risk both his and Elrond’s anger, Elladan politely declined to fight. Several rather loud and somewhat drunk men of swarthy appearance heard this, and declared the Elf to be afraid of combat and then proceeded to insinuate that perhaps it was the favours of the beautiful prince the dark haired Elf really fancied. Elrohir rose angrily in defence of his brother’s honour, as Tathar did for Legolas, both drawing their swords to back up their threat. Their antagonists did likewise, and but for the timely intervention of Bard and the Lake-men accompanying him, blood might well have been shed. The strange men were forcibly evicted from the tavern, much to the Elve’s delight, but heir satisfaction was short lived. Bard suggested, in the most polite and respectful manner, that it was a lovely warm evening and perhaps they would prefer to spend the rest of the night under the stars in the company of their own kin.

Elrohir and Tathar were still furious, but allowed themselves to be lead from the tavern. As they crossed the bridge, they had laughed merrily at Elladan’s folly and his comment that he had never been so politely thrown out of a tavern before.

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And as the melancholy singing continued, Tathar turned to find Legolas no longer at his side, but standing at the water’s edge, staring into the inky blackness of its depths.

“What troubles you, mellon nin?” he asked as he tenderly placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Eyes bright with unshed tears and more than a little anger met his.

“This scene reminds me of…”

“The day Faelas died?” asked Tathar knowingly, his voice catching on his son’s name. Legolas nodded and quickly changed the painful subject.

“Even the waters of the lake reflect nothing but darkness,” he said sorrowfully.

“Ai, and your black mood,” commented Tathar, sensing the deep anger and drawing his friend close. Legolas allowed the gesture of comfort and rested his head on the strong shoulder for a moment before turning to look up into Tathar’s eyes

“I am heart sick at seeing nothing but death and destruction in our lives. The Shadow has much to answer for, and yet for the first time I understand Adar’s anger at Isildur for not putting an end to it when he had the chance,” said Legolas.

“Yet, if what Elrohir and Elladan say is true, some dark force has sought vengeance on Isildur’s heirs. Arathorn was killed whilst under their protection only three years after Arador. The line is broken,” commented Tathar. Legolas made no reply, for he knew that Arathorn had left a son who was being fostered at Imladris, but he was not at liberty to pass the information on to his friend. It hurt him to deceive the one person he trusted as much as his Adar, but he well understood the need for secrecy and the price he must sometimes pay for being the King’s son and heir.

“I swear that if I ever find myself with such a chance to rid this world of evil, I will do so,” he vowed vehemently, reaching down to pick up a rock and throw it into the water. It was a symbolic gesture of shattering the darkness.

“We have already made that pact, and act on it when we hunt spiders in Mirkwood or Orcs with Elrond’s sons,” Tathar pointed out.

“I know, but I have this strange feeling that there will come a time when we will not always be together, but that we will both be in battle,” Legolas said quietly.