Hello all!

Sorry that this took so long in coming. I swear my muse visits only during exams and when deadlines are drawing near!!

Anyhow, hope you enjoy the chapter…

Dedicated to Supermodel....HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!! =)

Chapter 3

Glorfindel spent the next few days in pleasant surroundings, recuperating and visiting his injured warriors. He found himself marvelling at how Thranduil’s elves kept the shadow at bay by their sheer willpower alone, and yet were able to persist in their merry lives, celebrating Yavanna’s blessings throughout each new season with such vigour and simple joy.

Early one morning, he went to visit a special grove on the far side of the verdant kingdom. He had made it a point to come here at least once every time he chanced to be in The Greenwood.

Here there stood row upon concentric row of beech trees, ranging in age from the grand, mature ones in the centre to the youngest saplings at the edges. With much grief, he realised there had been many new additions since his last visit here, for each sapling represented a fallen warrior of the great Wood, commemorating his or her valour in defence of the last Elven stronghold in the north.

Glorfindel walked amongst the trees, watching the first of Anor’s rays glitter amongst the leaves, hearing their soft whispers and returning the greeting in kind. Running his slender fingers along the silvery bark of each tree he passed, he heard their bittersweet song.

Many of these elves he had known and yet many more he had not. All too well did he know the sorrows of war, and no matter how many ages and wars he had lived through, the grief sowed upon this field of poignant remembrance wore heavily on him. Even the trees themselves knew the reason for their being for their songs were tinged with anguish for the Edhil they had never known.

He knew why he came here. He came to remind himself of that for which he fought.

He had returned to honour his pledge to Tuor’s House, but he would stay until Arda at last became free of the Darkness that tainted her. Too often in the peace of the Hidden Valley could they forget the perils roaming freely upon the rest of this Middle Earth. And although Imladris patrols met with their fair share of battle on their borders, he knew it and so did Elrond, that only by the blood of Thranduil’s folk was the shadow of Dol Guldur held at bay.

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He returned to the palace a little while later, for he had an appointment with a tiny princeling this very day and was determined to be on time for their meeting. He was rather looking forward to this outing, after the last few days spent intermittently in the healing wing with his injured warriors. Thankfully, all of them were healing nicely and were expected to return to full health given a well-deserved respite in Thranduil’s halls.

It had been joyously planned the previous evening that he would spend a few hours with young Legolas on the archery range and his suggestion of a picnic lunch had been met with much enthusiasm. The princeling also wanted to show him a few of his favourite spots in the surrounding wood and Glorfindel had happily agreed to accompany him.

He crossed the bridge over the river into the outer courtyard of the palace where an excited elfling bounded down the stairs into his waiting arms.

“Glorfindel!”

“Good morning, penneth! I see you have your bow and quiver all ready for me. Shall we be off then? You can lead the way.”

Glorfindel set the little fellow on his feet and fondly watched as he marched proudly by the side of the mighty warrior of Gondolin. Glorfindel glanced back and grinned at Anoriel, who handed him a lunch basket as he promised to bring her little whirlwind back by the fourth hour of the afternoon. They made their way back out across the bridge and though his little feet had to make twice as many steps as his companion, Legolas cheerily called out to each guard they passed and hailed them by name. Glorfindel noted how each one would smile or wave back at their youngest prince, genuine warmth glowing in their eyes as he went by.

They took the forest path to the archery grounds, and Legolas kept up a happy chatter all the way, running ahead to greet his favourite trees and telling Glorfindel about each one. There was a hoary old oak tree with a robin’s nest and its majestic neighbour that housed a family of red squirrels. Also a pretty elm that danced with the wind and the apple tree that would soon blossom. The forest almost seemed to brighten as he passed by; the singing of the birds grew sweeter and the flowers growing by the wayside unfurled their splendour to greet their prince.

“This oak remembers you, my lord. She says you climbed her boughs once and she would be happy to shelter you again.”

At that, Glorfindel had to chuckle. That had been many years ago, when he had accompanied the twins on a visit to Greenwood in their youth. On that occasion, Glorfindel and Ithildin had found it necessary to take shelter in the trees after a particularly eventful afternoon at the hot springs a short ways down the path. Something about missing garments and furious peredhil cursing golden-haired orcs masquerading as elves.

That memory brought a smile to his mind’s eye. Legolas eyed him curiously.

“Tell this kind tree that she has my eternal gratitude and I would be glad to visit with her again one day.”

The elfling smiled and continued along his merry way until they reached the training grounds. Not too long ago, Thranduil had gifted his youngest with his first bow. And while it would be quite some time before Legolas would officially train with the archers, he was familiar with the grounds and the people there. It was not uncommon to find the little one here, watching the practice sessions, that is, when he wasn’t amongst his beloved trees. The bow masters too were accustomed to their prince watching from stands, and called out to him even as they saluted Glorfindel, legend even here amongst the deadly Sylvan archers of the Greenwood.

Finding a secluded spot away from the main targets, Glorfindel set about instructing his young charge in the art of wielding a bow.

“You have a beautiful bow, Legolas. If you respect your weapon, and practice faithfully with it, it will ever serve you well. Remember that.”

Shining, round eyes watched him as he fingered the miniature bow in his hands. It may have been merely a child’s bow, but no detail had been overlooked. It was a fine, sturdy little weapon, beautifully made and decorated with the runes of Thranduil’s house woven into a series of interlocking vines covered in elegant green leaves. He wondered if Thranduil had made it himself. It was just something his friend would do.

Glorfindel watched as Legolas loosed a few arrows at the nearest targets. The child was really quite good. He helped him with his stance and corrected the grip of tiny fingers a few times, offering encouragement as he did so. With no small degree of satisfaction, he watched as the arrows came closer and closer to the bull’s-eye with each shot. They never quite made it there, but all in all, the child was well on his way to becoming a very good archer for his tender age.

They had been there awhile now, and those small arms were tiring fast, but the little one was determined to get the perfect shot before taking a break for luncheon. He looked so like his father then, thought Glorfindel as he watched intense sapphire eyes blink and small brow knit in concentration as he took aim. He truly was such a unique combination of his father’s stubbornness and his mother’s gentleness.

“Breathe deeply. Focus on the target. Let all else fade away…”

A twang of the bow rang clear.

An arrow landed squarely in the middle of the red circle.

His littlest student whooped in ecstasy as Glorfindel cheered him on. Truthfully he had not expected one so small to demonstrate such skill. He was impressed.

“Now we will see what the cook prepared for us hmm? I am famished!”

On cue, his stomach rumbled and Legolas giggled.

“What’s so funny? Archery is hard work!” Glorfindel grinned at his young charge.

He let Legolas take him by the hand and followed him to a grassy knoll by the river and together they unwrapped the large lunch basket. Out came a generous loaf of fresh bread, cheese and an assortment of fruit and small pastries. There was a flask of wine for Glorfindel and some milk for Legolas. To both their delight, they found one of cook’s special berry pies tucked away at the bottom with a small jar of clotted cream. What a treat!

They thoroughly enjoyed their repast and after finishing the last of the pie with gusto, Glorfindel sat at the foot of a graceful willow tree and watched as Legolas happily chased the pretty butterflies that flittered about him.

It was so beautiful here. The glade was formed around a small offshoot of the main river, enclosing a lovely bathing pool surrounded by a stand of willow trees. He lay back against the bole of the willow, letting the gentle sounds of the running water lull him into a state of relaxation, enjoying the warm rays of Anor upon his face. On a whim, he pulled off his boots and let his feet dangle in the cool water. Looking over to the youngster, who had ceased his frolicking, he patted the ground next to him and Legolas scooted over. In amiable silence they sat for awhile, watching the water sweep over their toes and listening to the sweet birdsong in the trees.

Glorfindel closed his eyes as peace permeated his entire being. He wished this moment could last a little longer, for almost like a dreamscape it seemed. Then suddenly he became aware of gentle singing by his side.

Legolas was singing.

Softly at first, building up a tender melody that harmonised with the very song of Arda. Closing his eyes again he let the sweet music entrance him, through it he could sense the gentle stirrings of the forest creatures around them, he could feel the vibrant life of the wood thrumming through the earth. Then he was soaring with the pure, high treble through the canopied treetops, even to the clouds above.

For awhile, he could let the cares of the outside world diminish and slowly he let the sorrows of the days past fade away.  Distant became the Grove of Beech trees.

Awhile later he opened his eyes to find bright blue ones gazing anxiously at him. His heart felt so much lighter and he smiled at the elfling who kneeled beside him.

“You are awake!” the little one smiled back. “Come with me now! I will show you the Wood.”

Refreshed and feeling pure joy he had not known in so long, Glorfindel placed a kiss on the tender brow and took the little hand in his bigger one. He could see the world with young eyes now.

=)