A Different Faerie Tale part Two — Massacre in Mirkwood
*Note: The image of the characters are based on the movie, mostly because I think P.J. did a pretty good job (on casting them or whatever: his attempt at the movie itself was…. Heh.) And I really like Ian Holm, Sean Astin, Viggo Mortensen and Sir Ian McKellen. They’re good actors. In my mind. I like the rest too. Oh, and Hugo Weaving.
*Ooh and I made some elves up of my own for plot devices, so three cheers for me! Think you can figure them out… Also, I’m assuming some stuff.
Dawn searched through out the House of Elrond, but could find him not. He wasn’t in his chambers. Dare she try the library? Yes, she would. What if her strange dream was happening now? Like actually happen? Legolas could be dead.
So she ran out into the rain, and hurried across the court to the building on the other side, where the library was. Her hair clung to her face and she shivered madly. It was a more public bookroom than the one Elrond had nearer to his chambers. Dawn had only been in that one once. She was in this library quite regularly. There were twisting arches at the entrance, and two large trees at its left and right. Usually, it was lit with hundreds of candles, there being no window except a large one on the east wall, with silky black hangings. The walls were bare, save the hundreds of maps of Middle Earth cluttering it. There were writings desks, beautifully crafted bookshelves, and tables and chairs. But, the candles were not lit, and there was no sun shining through the window. It was dark and very creepy. And cold. Dawn shuddered as she walked about in it. It didn’t help she was soaked, and only in her nightgown.
“Elrond?” she called, looking around a corner. At the other side there was a single solitary light with a figure hunched over it, writing. The light shimmered on his dark hair, and the flame danced in his clear eyes. He was obviously stuck in there, not wanting to go out into the rain. There were many scrolls about him, and a glass of wine.
“Elrond!” Dawn hurried across the room to him. “Elrond, I…” she breathed in heavily. Maybe she was a big out of shape.
“What is it Dawn?” Elrond asked, standing, and offering her his seat. Normally Dawn would not take it. But she did. She needed to catch her breath and sort her thoughts out. Fast.
“I… why are you still in here?” Dawn was a little confused about that. He usually didn’t stay in here this long.
“I had no mind to go out into the rain with it pouring like this. But really, was that what you are so frightened about? You look very pale.”
“I… I had a dream. Only, it didn’t feel like a dream.” Dawn explained, then told what she ‘saw’, now feeling a little stupid. Her cheeks burned. However, Elrond seemed immensely interested in this, and pulled a chair up.
“Continue.” He said, Dawn having his complete undivided attention.
“Well, it went like this. A bunch of orcs are pouring through the woods, killing everything. Then I see Legolas. And Gollum. And elves are dying. It… it was… it didn’t just feel like a dream, alright?”
“I trust your judgment. I shall send messengers as quickly as possible.” Elrond said, and he turned, and walked towards the door. Dawn followed.
“No. Elrond, let me go. I-“
“I will not allow you.” Elrond said. “I could not bare you to be hurt, if battle does break.”
“So what, you think I couldn’t handle myself in a fight?” Dawn asked skeptically. “Puh-leez. I’ll be fine. You can trust me. I know well enough to hide behind some one bigger than me if I see an orc.”
“This is no time for jest. Especially humans should not over look Orcs. They are deadly and bloodthirsty. They would not think twice about killing you.”
“Oh, come on!” Dawn said, becoming worked up. “It would be so much easier if you were not so stubborn-“
“If you weren’t so stubborn.”
“-and just let me go. I could explain things much easier to Thranduil and Legolas.”
“How well do you know the elves of Mirkwood?” asked Elrond. Dawn shook her head.
“Never been there in my life.”
“They are incredibly suspicious of species besides their own.”
Dawn thought about this. It was true. Take for example, in The Hobbit, when the Dwarves wondered into Mirkwood. Then again, they were Dwarves. And it didn’t help Thorin was such a prig. Dawn sighed restlessly.
“Listen, you can tell me to stay. But I won’t. I’m going no matter what. And I don’t even know my way there.” Dawn folded her arms. “And that is that.”
Elrond thought about it for a long time. Finally, he nodded gravely. “Alright. You may go. But take an escort with you. And return as quickly as you can.”
“Yes, father.” Dawn said sarcastically, smiling. “I will. But I must leave now. I don’t think there is much time.”
“Alright. I will send Glorfindel, Gilgnalad, Rochon and Figwit with you. I shall gather them. You prepare for the journey. No doubt it will take at the least ten days.”
“Ok. Ten days.” Dawn repeated. “I’m guessing that if this is real, this dream, I have only a week and a bit.” Then Dawn flung herself around Elrond, giving him a large bear hug. Then she pranced off to her room, stuffing things into her pack. A brush, some clothes, some other items. The rain had lessened outside, but it still fell, and it was probably about one in the morning. She wore a dress, not unlike the one Arwen wore when rescuing Frodo in the movie version, then put a dark green cape on. When she got outside, there were the five elves readying the horses. There were only four horses, which Dawn was thankful for: Elrond had remembered Dawn’s way with horses. And it sucked.
“Come.” Said Glorfindel, probably the oldest of the elves. Figwit was relatively young, and Rochon and Gilgnalad no less. They strapped the pack on, and Dawn was helped up behind Glorfindel. Elrond was in a black cloak, and he bid them farewell. They were off. Dawn watched the sunrise and set and rise and set for six days, with out rest. Perhaps the elves had forgotten she was a human, a mortal, and she did not have everlasting stamina like them. She almost fell off once from pure exhaustion, but Rochon pushed her back up. The mountains proved the hardest to advance over, but there was a narrow passage that seemed well used, and they got over them easily enough. One day, on the night of the seventh day, as they slipped through the land yet unnoticed, Glorfindel pointed towards a large cluster of trees. It looked dark and evil, but it seemed to radiate life and joy. It was a weird feeling. Dawn had never experienced it.
“There lies the boarders of Lothlorien. I do wish we had time to tarry. Elrond speaks lovely things of that land.”
Dawn did not answer him, but she also wished they could go there. However, the thought occupied her sleepy head little. She was still much worried about Mirkwood. She did not know if they would arrive in time.
In the afternoon of the tenth day, on June the 21st, Gilgnalad cried something in elvish. Glorfindel sighed.
“We are near Mirkwood! Look!”
Dawn was suddenly very awake, as she saw the trees coming near. She urged Glorfindel to move quicker. They had all heard the crying of Elves inside the beech’s boarders.
“Noro lim, noro lim Asfaloth!”
The horses now ran in between the trees, weaving in and out, skidding dirt up behind them.
“Glorfindel, let me down, please!” Dawn said.
Dawn had to get off. She remembered what it looked like in her dream, and she needed to get to that tree, but instructing Glorfindel where to go would be too hard and take too long. Dawn knew the dangers of ‘falling’ off a horse at the speeds Asfaloth was going currently, but she didn’t care.
“AH!” Dawn cried, as she jumped off from the horse, and twisted and turned when hitting the ground. Glorfindel stopped Asfaloth, but Dawn was already up and running, cursing her idioticness, cradling her right arm. It didn’t feel right. Oh well.
As she continued, she walked upon a tall mound of grass that seemed familiar. She was deciding which way to go, when three orcs suddenly burst through the trees. Dawn gasped, but did not scream. She was paralyzed in fear. Then, out of no where, a tall blonde elf jumped from the trees, two long white knives in hand. He quickly beheaded each one, swiftly and promptly. He looked at her in puzzlement. Dawn threw the hood off her face and for once in a long while –ten days– she felt the cool wind blow her hair around and into her ears.
“Legolas!” she cried, and stood. Legolas himself looked even more bewildered when she said this. “Thank god! I thought I was going to die. I do not have much combat training. I also don’t have much time. I have to go look for-“
“Do we know each other?” Legolas asked.
“No,” Dawn said shaking her head. “But I have to go.”
“Half a moment!” Legolas said, grabbing her arm as she went to leave. Dawn looked at him angrily.
“Look, there isn’t much time-“
“And for what exactly I would like to know. And what is it you are doing in my forest?”
“Oooh, don’t you talk to me like that. First, it isn’t your forest, it’s Thranduil’s and secondly, well, I’ll explain later, ok? It’s too confusing. And I came with the elves from Rivendell. You’ll see them soon enough. Bye!” and Dawn ran off before Legolas was able to do anything else. Dawn didn’t know where she was going, but it was like there was a compass driven into her head, and somehow, her body and mind just steered her around. And to the right place. She stepped into the clearing, and she was met with the backs of ten orcs at the least. Dawn’s eyes grew wide, and she stepped back behind a bush, fist in her mouth, praying not to be seen. She wasn’t, to her advantage. She saw from the branches above Gollum slinking down, and then the bodies of four elves at the base of the tree caught her eye. One was still alive, two orcs hit him in the head, hard, and he fell unconscious. One of the orcs picked him up, and the caravan of foul things trotted off. As soon as Dawn felt they were far out of sight, she ran to where the elves lay. She picked ones head up, he was still alive it seemed, but he was choking on blood, one of the orc’s twisted swords through it’s chest. Right through. Dawn moved the hair from its face, and a tear dripped down her face. She had been too late. These three; the one that had been taken; and much others, she guessed. They were all dead.
“Legolas.” She said. Then she yelled it. “Legolas! Come here, Legolas!!”
A group of elves jumped through the tree line, Figwit, Glorfindel and the others with them. Legolas kneeled down beside her, and took the elf into his own arms. He said something in elvish.
“They went that way, my prince.” The elf pointed faintly in the direction the orcs had gone. Dawn ran to Figwit. He put his arms around her.
“Are you alright?” he asked. Dawn nodded.
“Yes… I think.” She said, and closed her eyes, continuing to cry. Then she took a deep breath of air. “Legolas is he going to be alright?”
Legolas looked up sadly, and shook his head. Dawn gasped, and still cried. She had been so sure she could help, so sure that she would not leave these elves to die. She thought she could make a difference.
Then, the elf on the ground passed from that world. It wasn’t because of the fact his chest stopped rising and falling, but that vibrant elf stare dwindled away, and then no light was in his eyes. His eyes remained open, until Legolas regretfully passed his hand over the elf’s face and closed the lids. Dawn shuttered.
“Will you kindly follow me?” Legolas asked softly. He obviously wasn’t used to the death of one of his own, let alone an obvious friend, the way his own eyes lost its shine. Dawn nodded, and Figwit followed, not having much of a choice. Dawn was not going to let go of his arm. Legolas led them through many beech trees, over hills, and through lush grass and even a field or two. Mirkwood was quite large.
“Where are we going?” Dawn asked quietly.
“My father wishes to speak with you. Gilgnalad told him much of the reason you are here, but he would rather hear it from you.”
Finally, they came to a palace. Yeah, that’s what it was. A palace. It climbed high up, and it caught Dawn’s breath. This was Legolas’s pad? She gave a low, impressed whistle.
They went through many chambers and halls, everything white and silver, and much adorned by white gems. At last, they came to a throne room with nothing in it but a large dais and a fireplace. In the corner staring out a large window was a tall elf, with golden hair that almost looked like it had a red tint with the fire glowing on it. He turned, and smiled as Legolas, Dawn and Figwit walked across the large room. As Dawn got closer, it was obviously that this was Thranduil, ruler of Mirkwood and Legolas’s father. They were so evidently related. They both had a youthful look, but stern too, and Thranduil looked very wise. He wore a circlet of leaves wrought in silver with white gems, like his palace.
“Welcome, Dawn.” Thranduil said smiling. “I understand that you had some sort of dream to do with what has happened? Is it possible that you have a different form of foresight? But where are my manners? My name is Thranduil, and I am the regent of this forest.”
“I’m assuming you know my name from Gilgnalad?” Dawn said. Thranduil nodded.
“Yes. He told me of why you are here, but the real reason still is not clear. Please, explain.”
So Dawn took a deep breath, and began to explain. “Well, it started with the orcs, then Gollum escaping, and the elves dying. Legolas was there too. It was just… I don’t know. It didn’t feel at all like a dream. It was a nightmare. And I thought that maybe if I came quick enough I could stop your people from… you know.” Dawn looked away regretfully.
“Do not look so hurt, Dawn.” Thranduil said. “It is alright. Elves do die, and I felt from the moment that Smeagol came into my possession that perhaps some sort of fate as this would befall my people and I. It is all right. But we must hurry to look for him.”
“I’ll help.” Dawn volunteered.
“We all will.” Figwit said. “But word must be sent back to my lord. Elrond will wonder what delays us.”
Thranduil nodded. “It will be done. Legolas!” he called to his son. Legolas, who had been listening absent-mindedly and staring out side, walked over.
“Show Dawn here to a room suitable for such a flower.” When he said this, he sounded almost sad, as if remembered something from long ago.
‘Oh,’ Dawn thought. ‘He called me a flower. Is he coming onto me? No, Legolas has a mother. Doesn’t he? Hmm…’
So Legolas led her away, and Figwit stayed to talk with the Elvenking. At last, they came to a room that seemed far away from most of the other, up in solitary tower come from the rest of the palace.
“This will be your room.” Legolas said, opening the door. Dawn stepped in. It was large, with white walls and a huge bed with white satin sheets. There were silk drapes, and a writing desk in the corner, with some books.
“It’s beautiful.” Dawn said, walking to the bed. She sat down. It was really soft and squishy. Legolas smiled.
“Yes. My mother came in here often, to write and think.” Legolas said, then seemed lost in some distant memory. His eyes looked both sad and joyous. Dawn walked over to him, and looked up. He was about a head taller than her.
“What happened to her?” she asked gently, and put a hand on his arm comfortingly.
“She died. Orcs of Dol Guldur captured her and…” he closed his eyes. “I was young. I do not remember much.”
“I’m sorry, Legolas.” Dawn said. Legolas nodded.
“I will leave now.” And Legolas turned sadly and went downstairs. Dawn combed her hair with her brush, and sighed. The sun was setting, and the sky was stained pink and orange. It was very beautiful. She watched from her bed. Sigh. Mirkwood was so different from Rivendell. It was very different. Far off, she could see the very small tops of mountains — the Mountains of Mirkwood. There was also a river twisting and turning, running quickly. The Forest River.
Turning over, Dawn closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Tomorrow she would go look for Gollum, an maybe spend some more time with Legolas or Figwit. There was much she wanted to do in Mirkwood still before she left.
*Okey-dokey. The way I wrote about Legolas’s mom dying is an ASSUMPTION. Actually, it’s only a POSSIBILITY. It is not true. Truthfully, I do not know what or how Legolas’s mom died from. She might not even by dead! Keep this in mind! Stay tuned for part three “Training and the Long Ride Home”
*And I do not know of Glorfindel has ever been to Lorien. He probably has. But in this story he hasn’t. Sorry if it sounds incomplete! My computer just screwed up so I don’t have the original!