Imladris
Legolas’ eyes opened slowly and cautiously to the sight of swaying leaves high above him. Voices to his left tinkled in his ears, the familiarity tugging at his memories. He sluggishly turned his aching head bringing the speakers into his line of sight. Four elves stood around a small fire roughly five feet from where he lay, speaking quietly to one another.
The realization of who these four elves were hit him and humiliation mixed with sorrow struck him with full force. He recalled those eyes that bore into him as he stood upon the platform awaiting his execution. He had feared that they belonged to incorporeal beings who had come to guide him through his own death. Then when he had become aware of their presence when he had regained consciousness after his hanging his confusion and dismay had gotten the better of him.
It seemed irrational and juvenile now, when he thought back on the incident, but at the time it seemed to be Legolas’ only recourse. He had been in the company of so many strangers, each with their own motives and rationale for wanting him around that his already fractured mind had ceased the ability to conclude who was friend and who was foe. So, in his panic, he had fled.
“You are awake I see.” It was the blond elf that Legolas had seen speaking with Leandir but he offered no response to the statement. “How are you feeling?”
Just behind the questioning elf, Legolas could see the other three, two identical in appearance, watching with concern. Still he failed to respond, instead, he shifted himself in an attempt to rise to a sitting position.
“Let me help.” The blond elf reached in, slipping his arm behind Legolas’ back and lifting him up so that his back came to rest against the trunk of a large oak tree. He saw the other three step tentatively toward him but the blond elf raised a hand, holding them at bay. “Angrod, would you be so kind as to heat some water for some tea, please?” There was a slight hesitation then one of the others moved off at the blond elf’s bidding.
“Legolas, do you remember me?” Legolas’ eyes snapped back to the blond elf and he searched his blue eyes for anything recognizable. Whether it was the quick movement or the straining of memory Legolas didn’t know but his head began to ache mildly and he raised his hand to his still bandaged head. The blond elf cautiously stretched his own fingers out to touch the wound and Legolas found himself subconsciously recoiling causing the other’s hand to freeze in midair, inches from Legolas’ face.
“It is okay Legolas. I know things are very confusing for you right now, but you should know that even under the most extreme circumstances I would never raise a finger against you.” A caring smile came to the blond elf’s face and he tilted his head ever so slightly to the right as he peered into Legolas’ face. “My name is Glorfindel, and you are Legolas son of Thranduil. We have known one another for many years, and I am going to help you if you will allow it.”
Again he froze with the kind smile upon his face looking deep into Legolas’ eyes, waiting patiently for a response. Legolas searched his memory for anything of this blond, powerfully statured elf. Nothing came and the despair and sorrow in Legolas’ heart intensified. “I am sorry.” His chin fell to his chest and his hand rose again to his injured head.
Glorfindel shifted and came to a sitting position in front of Legolas, his knees touching Legolas’ own. “It is I who am sorry Legolas.” Glordindel’s strong hand reached out and gently tilted Legolas’ head up so that he could see his face. “Let us help you.”
Nodding in acceptance, Legolas felt a slight lightening in his heart. These elves meant him no harm and they seemed to know more about him than any others he had met since this whole ordeal had begun. It seemed that he had nothing to lose by accepting their help.
Glorfindel’s smile widened at the affirmative action and he bobbed his own head in pleasure. “Good. Now, does your head still pain you?”
“Somewhat.” Legolas admitted
“May I have a look?” Glorfindel waited for Legolas’ acquiescence before he reached up and unwound the bandaging. Legolas watched the expressions on Glorfindel’s face change from concern to horror and on to sorrow. He could see that the dark haired elf had returned from starting water to boil and then had moved forward with the twin elves to get a look at his wound.
“Hit twice would you not agree Elladan?” One of the twin elves knelt before Legolas and traced his fingers over the remnants of the wound on his right forehead. This same elf then raised his right hand and felt along the wound behind Legolas’ left ear.
“I would concur Glorfindel. I think that father needs to see him as soon as possible.” Elladan let his hand come to rest on the side of Legolas’ face. “Well met Legolas. When was the last time you ate something?”
Legolas thought deeply on this. “I do not recall.”
Elladan raised his right hand and extended it back over his shoulder with his palm up, all the while not taking his gaze off of Legolas. His twin stepped forward and placed a small piece of bread into his palm and then took a step back, remaining quiet the entire time. “Eat this. I think that part of the reason you passed out on us was lack of sustenance.” Elladan placed the bread in Legolas’ hand and then rose to his feet, coming to stand over his friend.
Taking a small bight of the bread, Legolas instantly felt the despair in his heart diminish and his limbs gain more strength. “Thank you.”
It was the other dark headed elf, Angrod, who stepped forward now, a steaming cup in his hand. “Please drink some of this tea Legolas.” He handed the steaming cup over to Legolas and then took a seat next to Glorfindel who remained seated directly across from the once lost woodelf. “I am so happy to see you my friend. I cannot express to you the fear you had evoked in me. Can you tell us what happened?”
Legolas took a small sip of the hot tea, the warmth of it sliding down his throat and filling his stomach then spreading out into his limbs. The ache in his head eased somewhat and a calmness filled him like he hadn’t felt in weeks. He then began to recount the events of the past few weeks, beginning with the moment of waking up in Adras’ home and ending with the verdict of the council hearing. When he had finished his tale his voice hitched and he fought to control his emotions. Recalling the loss of the man who had saved his life and been so fatherly toward him hurt deep inside and Legolas took another drink of the tea to numb the pain.
“Forgive my weakness.” He plead to the four elves who were all now listening intently.
Glorfindel leaned in and placed a comforting hand on Legolas’ thigh. “There is nothing to forgive young one. You were very brave under the circumstances.”
“And you have been unable to remember anything of your life since you awoke?” It was the other twin elf that asked, the one Legolas had not yet learned the name of.
With a small sigh expressing his fatigue and self frustration, Legolas answered. “I have had a few vague moments with flitting visions that were unexplainable that I can only assume were flashes of memory but otherwise no, I have not been able to recall a thing.”
All fell quiet now and Legolas could sense their unease at his predicament. He felt sympathy for them and their inability to know how to deal with him. He didn’t really know how to deal with himself. He could see the sadness in their eyes when they looked at him and he felt anger and humiliation at being the recipient of such downcast looks. The silence persisted, the only sound being that of the flame colored leaves as they fell to the ground around them. All were lost in their own thoughts.
It was Glorfindel who finally broke the uncomfortable silence as he turned and began rifling through a small pouch that lay just off to his left. “Finish your tea and lembas Legolas. I will rebandage your head and we will depart shortly. We should return to Imladris immediately.” He pulled a small jar from the satchel and opened it, revealing a thick, white paste. Without a word he began spreading the salve over Legolas’ wounds. Cold spread through his head, carving its way along the jagged cuts left over from the damage done. A tingling sensation followed and the cold of the salve combined with the heat of the tea made Legolas’ head pulse.
“Prepare the horses, we leave as soon as Legolas and I are finished here.” Glorfindel ordered as he began to wind the fresh bandage around Legolas’ head. “Eat young one. You need to rebuild your strength.”
Legolas took more lembas and tea, delighting in the energy that seemed to flow through him after each intake. He began to feel very relaxed in the company of these elves. More relaxed than he had even felt while with Adras. They built a comfort in him that he could not explain. He felt safe and protected, as though he knew, deep down, that they would never let anything happen to him. He watched each of them as they went about making preparations for their departure and he caught each of them glancing his way, a concerned yet comforting smile on each of their faces as they made eye contact with him.
“Are you ready to go home young one?” Legolas shifted his gaze to the tall, blond elf before him. Home was someplace that he couldn’t imagine. Someplace that he had wondered about since his first conversation with Adras.
“Am I really going home?” He inquired, a wishful tone in his voice.
“Well, not your real home, with your father, but a very close second.” Glorfindel had used all of the bandaging to bind Legolas’ head and tied the ends tightly. “Does that sound okay to you Legolas?”
“How am I to really know? I do not remember either place.” Legolas popped the last of the lembas into his mouth, having already finished the tea, and chewed slowly. “I suppose I will have to lay my trust in you.”
“I will do my best not to betray that trust then.” Glorfindel rose, extending his hand to Legolas to help him up. “Come now. You shall ride with me.”
Glorfindel gently guided Legolas to his horse and spotted him as he mounted then he climbed up behind him. “If you feel tired and the need to rest you may lean against me my young friend.” Glorfindel gave Asfaloth a light touch upon his neck and the strong animal moved out. “I have you now and you are safe with us.”
Legolas allowed himself to relax at these words but the sorrow in him began to grow at the loss of memory for these kind souls. If these were his friends and they cared enough about him to have come looking for him and take him to safety, then why could he not remember them? Why, even at the sight of them, did he have no recollection whatsoever of any of them?
For the next several days they rode toward Imladris, speaking little and taking only short stops at night to rest. Rising with the sun and stopping with the stars. Legolas took joy in the shining orbs that dotted the sky overhead. He was awed by the falling of the leaves around him and he was comforted by the steady presence of his friends around him. But with each day with no return of his memory, his heart sank a bit further.
He had asked Glorfindel, whom he had ridden with every day, to tell him of his home and of his father. There were some things he hesitated to tell him, stating that it would be best for his father to recount such tales with him. Legolas suspected that this included the absence of any mention of his mother and with that thought, the feminine voice that he had heard whilst in the woods weeks earlier, replayed itself in his mind.
At times Glorfindel would call forth Angrod to fill in details and it was at such a time that Legolas learned of Angrod’s role in his life. That Angrod had been his friend since they were both elflings and that Angrod had been his personal advisor and guard. And it was at this time that Legolas learned of his royal status back at his home in Mirkwood. This realization made Legolas’ imagination real and he recalled the thoughts that he had had with Adras regarding the possibilities which awaited him at home.
Yet, all of this time, Legolas’ own memories would not return and his head continued to ache somewhat. Each night one of his companions would remove his bandaging, apply the cooling salve then tightly rebind the wounds. Each night they would tell him stories of himself or talk to him of Adras and his experiences. Legolas was strengthened by their persistent vigilance and he could feel his physical wounds healing.
In no time at all, or so it seemed, the five elves found themselves riding into the courtyard of Imladris. Legolas was not allowed to dismount until someone was by the horse’s side to spot him and ensure his balance was set. As his feet touched down on the cobbled ground, Legolas felt a sense of belonging that he had never recalled feeling before. His eyes lifted to the rock cliffs and trees about him and he took in the beauty that was Imladris. When he turned around he found himself staring into the noble face of a dark elf resembling the twins that had escorted him back.
This elf reached out to embrace him and Legolas inadvertently stepped away. Before this noble being could come any closer, he was intercepted by Elladan who placed a loving arm around his shoulders and spoke hurriedly into his ear. The pair continued as thus for several long moments while Legolas watched, the others moving about him, unpacking their horses and speaking to him in gentle words, although Legolas would never be able to recall what it was they were saying. His attention was fully focused on the elf before him.
This noble, dark haired elf watched Legolas closely, his eyes never leaving the blond elf but roaming over him as though assessing all of his injuries. Elladan had finished speaking to him then turned away and moved to his own animal to begin the unpacking process.
“Legolas,” The tall elf lord stood directly before him now. “I am Elrond, Master of Rivendell, and your friend. I believe that you and I have some healing to do.” He placed a comforting hand on Legolas’ shoulder and Legolas found himself leaning into the touch. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes misted against his will. “Come now, let me show you to your room.” His arm slid down Legolas’ arm and stopped on his elbow and he gave a light tug to guide the young blond elf into the house.
They mounted the marble stairs and entered through the large open doorway and Legolas froze at the beauty that expanded before him. His chest constricted somewhat and he felt Elrond’s grasp on his elbow tighten. “Legolas?” The voice was gentle and soothing and Legolas fought to recognize it.
“I do not remember.”
“I know little one. I know.” Elrond pulled Legolas into his embrace and held him for a brief moment, speaking into his ear as he did so. “I will try to help you remember Legolas but you should know, even if you could remember I would still tell you that you are well loved and cared for and I am happy that you have returned to us.”
He pushed Legolas out to arms-length away but continued to face him. “Come now, first things first, you need some rest.” They both turned and Elrond led Legolas further into the Last Homely House.