Chapter Text
Authors Note:
Hello everyone! I just wanted to take a second to warn everyone that this is quite a bit darker than most of the stuff that I write. So Trigger Warning for mentions and descriptions of death, dying, dead bodies, and some blood and gore.
Also, the formatting is a little funky on this story (at least for the first chapter) since there are two 'timelines' to follow.
One in June, which has the text orientated on the left of the screen.
One in July that is orientated on the right side on the screen.
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June T.A 2750
One of the younger and less experienced members of the patrol, Noriel, whispered to the rest of her company as softly as possible, “Do you smell that?”
Avaleina suppressed a tired sigh. The last two months felt like they had lasted twenty years, filled with a desperate lack of rest and an unending list of difficult and dangerous tasks. Pointless questions had begun feeling like an impossibly shark blade against her last frayed nerve.
But Noriel had only been with them for two weeks, and it was only her third outing with any of the Elite patrols in her life. While she had been serving in the King's army for centuries, it had always been within a day's travel of the stronghold. She was yet new to the horrors that thrived in war.
While Noriel might have been irritating in most things that she did, as their leader and captain, it was Avaleina’s duty to model the type of behaviour she expected from those under her command. Which included having patience and grace for those still learning.
It was a duty she took very seriously. From the front of their group and without glancing back, but careful to keep any annoyance and irritation from her tone she replied, “I expect that if the wind blows just right, they will be able to smell it all the way in Imladris without any trouble at all.”
“I assume,” Tern said from a few paces away to her left, the badly suppressed smirk leaking into his voice, “that you are referring to the Mortals residing in Imladris. The Noldor wouldn’t need the breeze to get a whiff of this.”
There were a few soft snickers and snorts among the rest but no other conversation joined the smell overtaking the air as they continued to slip quickly and effortlessly through the tree’s.
Another ten minutes of walking closer to the forest edge had the rest of the lesser experienced among them coughing and choking on the stench, nose and eyebrows creased with overwhelming disgust and eyes watering freely. The more experienced members subtly began to rearrange themselves in formation, moving to the edges and back of their group to better shield the less experienced without Avaleina having to say anything to them.
Verbally or otherwise.
Five more minutes had even the more experienced grimacing in disgust.
“I’ve smelled death before…” Noriel whispered again, softer than the first time. “But this…”
Reindeer, her second in command, placed a light hand onto the back of Avaleina’s elbow, and she gladly remained silent.
“You have smelled death before, yes.” Rimdaer agreed, moving the hand that had just been resting on Ava’s arm to reach back behind himself to softly grab Noriel’s elbow and pull her forwards until she was walking just a little bit ahead of him. Easier to keep an eye on, easier to keep safe. “But what you’re smelling now is a bad death.”
“A bad death? Aren't all deaths ‘bad’?”
“The kind of death that you have seen before has been clean. Fast. Lives were lost before bodies even hit the ground.” Rimdaer pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dramatically shook it out, with his other hand he pulled a few bright red berries off a nearby bush and crushed them between his thumb and forefinger. A warm, spicy aroma crawled its way into the air among the overpowering stench.
He plopped the remnants of the berries into one corner of the handkerchief and folded the rest of the cloth so that none of the juice was able to bleed through all of the layers. Rimdaer put the cloth over his nose, inhaling deeply. Nodding slightly to himself, he handed the cloth over to Noriel who immediately and gratefully covered her nose with it.
Only after her suffering had been slightly alleviated did Rimdaer continue explaining. “What you are smelling now is a bad death. A sloppy death. The kind where somebody is left screaming and crying for their mother and their god for many hours after the battle has ended. Where they are shot in the back as they try to flee, holding their children and left to rot in their own vomit and excrement and at the mercy of flies, worms, and birds.”
Avaleina crested the hill before the rest of her patrol. Her heart stopped. Fracturing in her chest as she gazed upon the horrific sight. “Not just somebody. Many somebody's. Too many.”
The rest of the patrol all slowly came to stand next to and around their captain, overlooking the human village that lay near the forest edge. A village that had once been so full of life and light.
A village that had been a friend to Thranduil's people for many generations.
The main village gate stood half open, a body lay face down in the dirt between the two large doors. An arrow sticking out of his back, and dried blood crusting a dark circle around him, and a much smaller circle of flies drifting around him.
There were no signs of life at all from the rest of the village. No sound, no movement, not even plums of smoke curling out of the healer's chimney and into the air above.
From their slightly elevated position the elves were only able to see a small portion of the village main market square, but even so Avaleina could count at least a dozen boots resting in the bloody dirt.
“Orthoron, Tern, and Garaviel with me. The rest of you stay here and watch for signs of life, movement, or danger. If anything but us four leave the village, stop it.”
“If they will not stop?” Noriel asked hesitantly.
“Then shoot them until they do, and then once more for good measure. Understood?”
“Yes, captain.” A dozen strong and competent voices chorused together.
“Good. Reminder, don’t allow them to go and get themselves killed.”
“Of course, Captain.”
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July, T.A 2750
“What is that?” Elldan asked, pointing at something scrambling towards the valley from the plains beyond. Still far enough out that even elvish sight struggled to make it out correctly.
Glorfindel moved his horse next to Elladan, “What is wh-”
Having spotted the target, he narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see better. Even for Glorfindel the combination of distance, tall grasses, and the fact that whatever creature it was appeared to be practically dragging itself along the ground on its stomach made the identification of the creature difficult.
To say the least.
He held up a hand to his forehead to better shield his eyes from the sun, “I believe that it is a human man.”
Elladan and Elrohir both squinted harder as if that might magically improve their own eyesight. It did not. All they saw was a speck of brown wiggling along the ground.
“He must be injured.” Elrohir said, already moving his horse to the edge of the valley, “Let’s go fetch him before some Wargs do.”
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June, T.A 2750
“Forget the smell,” Tern mumbled, continuing to cast his eyes around every direction, “I’m shocked we couldn't hear the flies from the treeline.”
“They were probably too busy with their feast to fly around before we so rudely interrupted them.” Garaviel said, slowly and carefully making her way farther into the town. Stopping and looking down with pity and heartbreak at a woman laying on her front in the dirt, panicked gaze and arms reaching out for a child that lay a few feet away.
Tern glanced at Garaviels' devastated face and began moving over to them. Gently, so gently, he lifted the child just enough to lay it in the arms of its mother. As gently as he moved the child, Tern stroked a thumb across mothers pale, discolored cheek and whispered, “I’m so sorry. You did not deserve this. May you and your child find peace and each other in the Halls of Mandos.”
“This is..” Orthoron started but trailed off, unable to find words that could come close to describing the massive amounts of carnage contained in such a small stretch of land.
“This is almost exactly like what Legolas and I found at Fernhollow two weeks ago, Dewfront two weeks before that., and Skystead two weeks before that.” Avaleina finished for him, voice hollow. She stood in the middle of the town square, unmoving aside from an unending and agonisingly slow turn on her heel to the right, keen eyes methodically examining each piece of the scene before them.
Tern tried to take a peek into her mind's eyes but was firmly and wholy denied.
Those painfully keen eyes moved to meet his gaze, but her words were for all three of them. “Count the bodies. Every last one. Tell me how many men, women, and children are here.” After another glance around the scene, she added with a voice colored with remorse, “Count the pieces if you have to.”
“Yes, Captain.” They all said together.
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July, T.A 2750
The brown wiggling mound was indeed an injured human. Who, as soon as he spotted their approach on horseback, did his best to scramble to his feet and dash in the opposite direction.
It took less than three seconds for him to come crashing back down to the earth each time. But he did not stop trying to escape.
“Peace! Peace!” Glorfindel called, dropping off his horse and crouching to the ground, casting his weapons out of arm’s reach. He motioned for the twins to back their horses up several feet, not far enough that if things began to go poorly they could not assist but far enough to give the human a greater feeling of safety.
The human stopped his pathetic attempts at escape, and turned to look at Glorfindel. Eyes wide and alight with the kind of fear that is rarely seen, even in times of war. Chest heaving with rapid and ineffective breaths, all visible body parts bruised or scratched, as if he had tumbled down a mountainside.
“We mean you no harm, we came to offer you aid.”
The man did his best to fling himself at Glorfindel's feet, dragging a badly broken ankle behind him. To the Balrgos slayers horror and astonishment he began kissing his boots, sobbing and snotting on the ground in front of him repeating something over and over again so quickly even Elven ears could not make sense of it.
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June, T.A 2750
An hour after they had returned with the results of their findings, Tern came back once more to check on her and found Avaleina still in the town square staring at nothing in particular.
He came to stand next to her silently.
Eventually she turned to look at him. “Pull the short blade of grass again?”
“Not this time. I volunteered, glutton for punishment and all that.” She had zero reaction to Tern’s teasing, and a small pit of worry began to gnaw on his stomach lining.
“Want to air out some of those thoughts festering in there before they also start attracting flies and maggots too?” Avaleina pressed her lips together and looked around again. “C’mon, Ava, I can see that you’re drowning in there. Let some of it out.”
She sighed heavily in defeat, “Mossgaurd took their defence very seriously, they have a secret room dug underneath the town that’s almost impossible to find. Most of the doors are within the town hall, whenever they get attacked that’s where all the women, children, and elderly go until it's all over. Sometimes, if they have enough warning the entire town will hide. They could burn every building to the ground and still not find the room underground.”
“Yes, I remember seeing it once. Decades ago when I came with Thranduil on one of his visits.”
Avaleina finally looked back into Tern’s eyes, carefully hiding away any scrap of her undoubtedly raging emotions. “If they have an impossible to find secret room underneath their town hall, with five of the eight entrances being within or around the town hall, then why are they all running away from it?”
Tern looked around again, when they had been doing their talley it had just looked like randomized chaos. But now, standing in the middle of the town, it was easier to see that the chaos had happened because everybody was trying to get away from the center of town as quickly as humanly possible.
At the expense of the other humans.
Tern swallowed his rising nerves, “What else do you see?”
“There’s too many people here. Too many young men. Mossgaurd was one of the first to get hit by the false sickness a decade ago, the young boys were the first to catch it and bring it back to their village. All of them died before we could figure out how to stop it. Less than ten survived.”
There were certainly more than ten.
“Worst of all, I’m almost certain that I recognize a handful of them from Fernhollow and Dewfront.”
“Perhaps when the other two towns were destroyed the survivors fled here?” Tern offered half heartedly.
She gave two decisive shakes of her head, “No, they would have told us. Thranduil has been searching for any survivors since we found each town to no avail, never before has Mossgaurd kept such a secret from us.” Avaleina's expression darkened and a specific kind of rage that made all but a very, very select few souls take a precautionary step back began to swirl in her eyes.
“What?” Tern demanded, grabbing her by the shoulder and forcing her to look back at him when she made to turn away, “Ava. What is it?
“What if they aren't survivors?”
“But you said that everyone else in their town-”
“Were brutally and horrifically killed, yes. But what if their survival wasn’t an accident, or luck.”
“What is it that you are trying so hard to not say?”
Avaleina pulled him closer, forcing him to bend down slightly so that she could hiss into his ear. “The last time the humans began keeping secrets from us,” She said, voice as hard as any rock on the ground, “was because their loyalties and friendship had been given to another.”
“The Necromancer?” He asked in her mind, too aware that outside the safety of their forest that the servants of evil had just as many listening ears as they did. Avaleina met his gaze and nodded once in a manner that perfectly conveyed the continually building anger within. “What could they be gaining from slaughtering entire villages?”
“ They aren't killing all of the villagers. Just the ones who don’t obey.” Avaleina turned on her heel and began stalking her way towards the great hall, and said aloud once more “Get everyone else in here, we’re missing something important. I know that we are .”
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July, T.A 2750
Elrond was practically forced to jog to keep up with the pace that Glorfindel had set, “Where did you find him?”
“On the side of the road, crawling in the underbrush. Hysterical.”
“What was he saying?”
“He kept begging us to help him, and said that he’s being hunted by something.” Glorfindel glanced back long enough to ensure that Elrond had not yet been forced to actually run, “Definitely looks as if he has been hunted.”
“Hunted by what?”
“Was too afraid to even utter a hint of whatever it was in the wilds, claiming he would only tell the Lord of the Valley after he was safe within its borders.” Glorfindel descended the stairs three at a time, “I could not spy any scratches or bite marks on his body, though.”
“Too afraid to speak?”
The unmistakable sounds of incomprehensible hysteria began to bounce around the hallway, the only thing clear enough to understand was the terror that drove the tone.
“Was practically gagging with fear at even thinking of it.”
Elrond had many stray mortals turn up in or near their valley after going through any number of harrowing experiences, but they had never been so terrified by their ordeal that being in Glorfindel's glowing and reassuring presence could not sooth them. He quickened his pace, practically sprinting down the last few hallways to the main treatment room of the healing ward.
Pushing the door open, Elrond did his best to assess the mortal trapped inside with only a few glances.
He was thin in a way mortals only became thin after not eating for over a week, his complexion pale and skin hollowed. The only color on his face was the deep blue-purple bags under both eyes, and various scratches of different sizes. Hair as wild as his eyes.
The man was pressed to the end of the bed, shoeless feet tucked underneath him in a crouching position, leaving streaks of dirt and blood on the usually pristine white linions.
The man’s eyes focused on Elrond and must have assumed he was the Lord of the Valley and promptly threw himself off the bed and scrambled across the floor, collapsing at Elrond’s feet in a blubbering heap.
“Please, please, please My Lord, I beg you to have mercy upon me. Don’t let them get me, Please, you can’t let them get me. I beg you. I’ll do anything, anything!”
Elrond crouched down and took the man's dirty and trembling hands as carefully as he could, careful of the various wounds and blisters that marred the surface. “You’re in the city of Rivendell. You are safe. Nothing can come within my halls and remove you without my saying so. We will protect you. You are safe.”
The reassurance had the opposite effect than he’d intended, and the man grew more rapid with fear. “They can! They will! Please, please-”
“Who is ‘they’” Glorfinel asked, from where he had likewise crouched next to Elrond in an attempt to look as least threatening as possible.
“The Woodelves.”
“Woodelves?”
“The Woodelves of Mirkwood. They’ve hunted me across the mountains and all the way here. They’ll be here by Mid-day. They’ll be here to kill me.” The man began openly weeping, “You can’t let them, please, please my Lord I beg for Mercy. Please, please!”
Unable to formulate coherent thought upon receiving this news Elrond looked over to Glorfindel in hopes that his dear friend would be processing this faster but found the same dumb shock mirrored in Glorfindel's eyes.
The man continued to grovel.
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June T.A 2750
Legolas slowed his pace down to a jog as he rounded the last corner of the hallway leading to his father's office. He passed by a warrior in training that had been placed under Avaleina’s command whose name he was almost certain was Noriel, offering her only a curt nod in greeting and acknowledgment as he rushed by.
He reached the large carved oak doors that served as the main entrance to his fathers office and heard them unlocking themselves before his hand even rested fully against the smooth surface. Legoals pushed the right door open without knocking and let himself inside the office with no hesitation.
The space within was dead silent.
Which in itself was not entirely uncommon, it was the type of silence that was uncommon.
Usually the silence was relaxed, soft, natural. Like the pause to catch your breath after laughing too hard, or the quietness of enjoying a warm summer afternoon with a friend. But this silence was different.
It was hard. Edged. Stifling.
Legolas crossed the room, ignoring both of the large cushioned chairs that sat across from Thranduils and stood between them, stating rather than asking. “It happened again.”
Thranduil’s tone was as edged and cutting as the silence had been. “Yes.”
“Where?” Even Legolas could hear the resemblance to his father in his own voice.
“Mossguard.” Thranduil gestured to a few papers on his desk, some obviously written by Avaleina but some in a hand that he could not recognize. “Ava discovered it yesterday morning, she and her patrol spent practically all day scouring through every inch of the town. Spent all night burying the dead. Noriel arrived less than an hour ago with all the details they discovered.”
Legolas snatched the paper with Avaleina’s handwriting off the desk and quickly scanned through it, throwing it back down and picking up the three other pages. Two of them with lists written by a human, and the third an incredibly crude map of Mossguard and its surrounding villages.
The first list was a list of requested information, followed by the name for each town that was most likely to have each piece of requested information. The second list was what each town was in need of and suggestions for the best ways to make a deal with them, next to four of the town names was a signature from that town's designated leader.
The map circled and labeled every town that had been named in the notes.
Thranduil waited until Legoals looked back at him before continuing, “She found the lists and the map in a false bottom drawer of the Mossgaurd’s village leader's home. I recognize the handwriting, it's Agdan’s. Chancellor of Fernhollow. The village where all of this started.”
“So the mutilated corpse that we found in his house, isn’t he?”
“It might be. For all we know the servant of evil killed him after they got what they wanted. It might not be, it would be nothing for them to drag somebody else to the village and make it appear as though it was Agdan's body.” Thranduil sighed heavily and rubbed two fingers up and down his forehead in a self-soothing manner. “It is likely that we will never know, unless Agdan is alive and has the misfortune of coming across us again.”
“He made a deal with the Necromancer.” Legolas threw the papers back onto the desk, struggling to resist the urge to throw something much more substantial. Instead he tried aimless, rapid pacing to get some of the anger burning him alive out of his veins. “Made a deal with the very thing he’s been cowering behind us to get away from since his first breath.”
He had known all the villages that had been so cruelly ended. He had done his best to protect them for hundreds of years. He had attended celebrations, weddings, and funerals. He had helped them during difficult planting and harvest years, taught them how to better preserve their goods. He had healed their wounds and illnesses.
And they had been killed because of one of their own. One that not only the other village’s had trusted, but Greenwood as well.
One that Legoals had personally trusted.
“Agdan sold the lives of hundreds for his own benefits.”
“That does appear to be the case, yes.”
When his pacing did nothing to alleviate the allconsuming emotion, Legolas gave up resisting and flung a large, heavy, metal fruit bowl with all his might against the stone wall with a scream of raw rage.
The fruits went flying in several directions, and the bowl clattered to the ground next to a mound of ceramic shards that had once been several plates. Almost certainly the casualties of his fathers temper.
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July, T.A 2750
“What are we going to do, Ada?” Elladan asked, doing his best not to pick at his bottom lip. A nervous habit he and his twin both shared.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you believe what the man says? That Thranduil’s people are hunting him?” Elrohir asked, trying not at all to resist picking at his bottom lip.
“I don’t know.”
“What are you going to do if the Woodelves do show up at our door? We can’t just heal him and hand him over to die”
Elrohir didn’t even wait for his brother to be fully finished speaking before continuing his own inquiries, “What if they have a good reason for wanting him dead?”
“I don’t know!”
Glorfindel pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on behind Elrond’s desk and began ushering the twin from the room, “You two should go and check on the man. Make sure he isn’t trying to jump out the window, or something equally foolish.”
Neither were happy about the suggestion, but both left the room without comment.
The door clicked closed softly behind them, turning back around Glorfindel found Elrond resting his head in his hands looking about ready to start knocking himself in the head with any nearby object to stimulate a semblance of an idea on how to proceed.
“I wish Celebrian were here. She would know what to do. And how best to do it.”
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June T.A 2750
Avaleina tightened the worn leather straps around the bottom of her left thigh, easily slipping three throwing knives into their homes in the newly secured holster. Straightening, she gathered her long black hair behind her back, some of it still loose and the rest in various sizes of braids. Splitting it into three roughly equal sections, she quickly braided the entirety of it into one single long braid that trailed all the way down her spine.
Moving to the leather flap that served as the doorway, she paused for any sign of movement or other evidence for active life inside the small camp aside from the guards. Hearing none, she pushed the tent flap open and eased herself carefully into the darkness.
Not exactly sneaking around, but close enough.
Avaleina knew that every single warrior here would accompany her if she asked, many would insist on accompanying her without her asking them to. But she also knew that the events likely to unfold this night would weigh more heavily on their hearts and their souls than everything else this war had forced them to do.
She could not protect her warriors from much, but she could protect them from this. The same as she protected them from ever having to end one of their fellow warriors' lives when rescue was impossible or an extremely painful death inevitable.
Careful, soft feet carried her across the length of the camp, nodding in silence to the few guards she passed along the way.
On the far end of the clearing a small trapdoor sensed her approaching and flapped itself open without being asked. The carefully selected mosses growing inside emitting a warm orange-yellow light from inside the hidden storage room dug into the earth below, and softly bathing the grass around the entrance.
With one last glance around, Avaleina began to descend the well worn steps, pausing at the bottom of them. Waiting until the trapdoor above thudded itself closed before addressing the elf that was perched expectantly atop one of the slender benches between the rows of shelves, barrels, and chests. Dangling the exact bandolier she had come to retrieve.
“You’re straying here, Tern” She told him sternly.
“I strongly disagree.”
“You can disagree all you want. You’re staying here.”
“Correct. I’m staying here as long as you’re staying here, and then I’m leaving when you leave.”
“I am only going scouting, to see if our suspicions are correct.”
“And if they are, you and I both know you won’t be able to ‘just scout’ and watch another village be slaughtered.”
She took several steps closer to him, “You don’t need to be apart of what is about-”
“And you do?” He interrupted, moving the bandolier out of her reach when she attempted to snatch them away, “I know exactly where you’re going and exactly what is going to happen when you get there. I won’t let you do it alone.”
“I don’t need the help.”
“I did not say you did. I said that I won’t let you do it alone.” They stared at each other, faces and eyes hard.
Eventually Avaleina heaved a great and heavy sigh, her shoulders sagging a little. “Fine. But if you say anything to anybody before we’re finished, I’ll make you regret it every moment of your life for at least the next ten years.”
Tern cracked a smile and offered the bandolier out to her, “Deal.”
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July, T.A 2750
Glorfindel was seated on the far side of the human’s recovery room, as far as he could get from the bed without having to sit in the hallway outside. Waiting to witness the ‘sudden madness’ Elladan and Elrohir had reported overtaking the man for no reason they were able to identify.
Pondering what might be the best way to get out of this situation without losing Greenwood as an ally and friend. He knew that Elrond’s healer heart would never allow him to release one from his care into a knowingly dangerous situation.
He had been at his Lord's side during the Battle of the Last Alliance, had seen the effect causing so much death and destruction had done to Elrond in body and in soul. He had been by his Lord's side when he had fallen, sobbing, to the grass where all the dead had been buried, and those never located were remembered.
He had fallen to his knees beside his friend, as Elrond choked on his promise to the Valar, the Eldar, the Edain, and to his brother that he would do everything in his power to never cause harm again. To never be the reason that a creature of light was overtaken by darkness.
To do what little he could, whenever he could, to bring comfort, peace, and second chances.
Glorfindel had done everything in his power ever since to help Elrond maintain that desperate promise. A quest that, thus far, had been suspiciously lacking in moral dilemmas.
“They see me! They see me!” The man suddenly wailed, attempting to spring off the side of the bed and failing miserably the moment his broken ankle made contact with the stone floor. “Have to hide. Have to hide. Have to hide.”
The human seemed unaware of his surroundings and the fact that he was safe behind huge stone walls and several different wards and enchantments, and resorted to half-crawling and half-dragging himself behind the foot of the bed. Tucking his knee’s up to his chest to better fit behind the wood.
And practically began rocking back and forth in an effort to self-soothe.
Utterly bewildered by the sudden change of behavior, Glorfindel looked around the room to see what had changed but couldn’t find anything. Out of instinct he raised his gaze out the window to the large apple tree that grew in a garden below the window, and could have sworn he could feel it staring back at him.
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June T.A 2750
Legolas could just make out the dark shapes of a few humans moving through the black streets of their town from where he was standing against the side of a thick tree trunk. The same place he had been for the past two hours. Waiting for the exact pair of near silent footsteps approaching from the edge of their forest home, he did not turn to face the newcomers until they were a mere few feet away.
Avaleina’s hair was braided back in a manner that Legolas rarely ever saw, but when he did, it always meant something horrific was about to happen. She wore a thicker and sturdier armor than was usual for Greenwoods Archers that was partially hidden by six daggers secured across her chest, and her usual twin knives strapped to her back. Three matching throwing knives were strapped to her thigh and likely several other places. Each perfectly sheathed to prevent any reflection of moonlight.
“We did not expect to find you here, Thranduil did not say that he sent anybody to join me.” She came to a stop next to Legolas, allowing him to rest his forehead gently against hers in an affectionate greeting.
“Thranduil did not send me, I sent myself and he knows better than to try and stop me.” Legolas replied, pulling his head away from her again. “As if I would allow you to do such a task alone.”
Tern said from Avaleina’s right, looking every bit as deadly as his companion. Armed with his shortbow and an impressive amount of ammunition for it, a short sword, and several of his own daggers strapped to various parts of his body. “That’s almost exactly what I told her.”
Tern, too, allowed Legolas to rest his forehead against his own in a silent but affectionate greeting, “I would expect nothing less from you, Tern.”
“How is the town?” Avaleian asked, peaking around the opposite side of the tree that Legolas had been. Keen green eyes tracking every slight twinge or shimmer of shadow behind the small palisade wall built around it.
“The stench of Orc began oozing over the wall an hour ago, though I have yet to set my eyes on any. A large portion of the town appears to be locked in their homes. I cannot yet tell if it is of their own doing, or if it was done to them.”
“My bet is that it was done ‘to’ them.” Tern grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief of the entire situation. “We should get into position, according to the ledgers the other towns had their meeting two hours after nightfall.”
“I hope that we’re wrong about this.”
All three of them nodded grimly at nobody in particular. Knowing what that had to be done if they were right, but dreading it all the same.
“And if we are right, Avaleina and I will take the floor. Tern, you stay in the rafters with your bow. Don’t let any of them out the doors to hurt the other villagers.”
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July, T.A 2750
Erond felt Glorfindel standing in the doorway, but ignored him for the time being as he finished re-dressing the human's various wounds. Some already well on their way to housing various infections.
He wishes he knew the mortal's name, but he had thus far been spectacularly unforthcoming with any information about himself or how he ended up in this situation. Saying only that he had ‘made a mistake’ and that ‘the Woodelves wouldn’t believe him.’
As far as he could tell none of the injuries had been inflicted upon the man by another's hand, or a beast's claws. All appeared to have come from a relentless hasty rush through unsafe conditions and terrain, and several looked as if he had gotten them from falling down a steep hillside.
Part of Elrond’s mind had begun hoping that the human ramblings were a byproduct of fever, dehydration, and lack of sleep. Hoping that there was no Greenwood Elver after him.
Praying that there were no Greenwood Elves after him.
The apprehension surrounding Glorfindel assured Elrond that his hopes had been foolish. That his prayers had not been answered.
That the man had been right.
Their ‘visitors’ would be here before the end of the day.
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June T.A 2750
The tension in the town hall was enough to drown a man.
A third of the male population of the town stood in several shivering clusters, pressed tightly around the few that held the torches or lanterns. Five steps ahead of the group the village leader stood, Harmund stood somewhat successfully attempting to face their visitors without visibly cowering.
Two steps behind the leader was his younger brother who had been boasting about being the one to convince Harmund to accept the offer only minutes ago, before the Orcs had entered the hall, now stood cowering like a fearful puppy.
The only smell in the room was the stench of mortal fear.
A group of just over a dozen Orcs stood at the one end of the hall, bathing in the smell. Reveling in it. Grinning their twisted grins at the men, and taking deep breaths when the smell grew.
Above it all, in the dark rafters of the hall, the elves exchanged grim expressions.
“This is correct?” The Orc in the lead asked, the tallest of them all. The only one with any substantial weapon or armour. “Master does not like Elven tricks.”
“It's no trick, we swear!” The town leader, Harmund, swore with shoulders hunched and body trembling as dramatically as his voice. “Those papers hold all that we know about the Greenwood’s elves. Every bit of it.”
“Master will be pleased.”
“What of our bargain?” Harmund asked, eyes still resting on the floorboards beneath his feet, “Th-th-th-the one that Agdan arranged with the Master.”
The lead Orc took a few menacing steps forwards, snarling down that the man who seemed to be doing his best to vanish entirely. “Once the elven rats have been driven from their bushes, you get some of the forest. Whatever’s left of it.”
“Un-un-until then?” The man stammered.
Behind the lead Orc, the rest of his company loudly and rudely mocked the man's fearful stuttering. Cackling and howling at their own jokes and the mortal’s increasing fear in equal measure.
“Until then,” The Orc leaned even closer to the man's face, “You will do as Master tells you to do. And say nothing to the elven rats about it.”
“O - o - o - Of course. Anything he wants. Anything at all.”
“Good.” The Orc grinned, a few flecks of what appeared to be rotten meat made yellow teeth look pink. “Go and kill all the humans that would not join us. Leave their bodies to fester in the sun. Throw the Elven rat’s off the scent of what we do here.”
There were many scandalized gasps from the rest of the men cowering behind Harmund, a few whispered desperate pleas to not be forced to do such a thing. Harmund shushed them all, and to the Orcs stammered out another question, “I will see it done. Does the Master require us to end their lives in a particular manner?”
“Painfully.” Was the only answer.
Harmund bowed deeply, unable to speak.
There was a light thud.
Quickly followed by a second, wetter thud, as Harmunds head rolled off his shoulders and onto the wooden floor. The body quickly followed suit, but it's thud was masked by gasps and shouts of horror.
“If you did not want us ‘Elven Rats’ to hear,” Legolas hissed to the Orc, “Then you should learn not to speak so loudly.”
The Orc reared back with a snarl, reaching down for the massive metal warhammer he had rested on the ground next to him. Legolas’ sword removed the arm from his body, and slit its throat in a single move.
Several feet away the rest of the Orcs were riling themselves to avenge their leader, the deafening shrieks of rage waking every creature for miles in all directions. Too busy looking to their target they did not notice Avaleina drop from the rafters in the midst of their ranks until she had already sliced half of them to ribbons.
The second fared even worse than the first half, as several arrows rained down from the rafters above just as rapidly as Avaleina’s blades could slice.
The mortals' quivering only intensified as the blood from the Orcs began to seep into their shoes, and Prince Legoals’ and Captain Avaleina’s full attention came to weigh entirely on them.
The town leader’s brother tried to shrink back among the ranks, but the others refused to let him. Pushing him several steps forward and away from them.
The brother settled for falling to his knees and begging for mercy.
“Mercy?” Legolas asked, voice low and cold. “Are you asking us for Mercy?”
The man just barely managed to nod his head, teeth chattering with nerves and fear.
Avaleina stalked closer, until she was a pace or two ahead of Legolas. Orc blood dripping from a knife still drawn. “You already had our Mercy. You and your last twenty five generations have known our Mercy. You had our Mercy six hundred years ago when the servants of evil burned your entire town to the ground and we helped you rebuild. You had our Mercy four hundred years ago when they poisoned all of your crops and we did not let a single one of you starve through the winter. You had our mercy two hundred years ago when Warg pack began digging under the walls that we helped you build in the first place. You had our Mercy eight years ago when a false sickness was set upon your people, when we cured your very own son, Halldor.”
She held her blades under his trembling chin, “You had our mercy from the moment your village was established, and every single moment ever since.”
“You’ve all had our Mercy your entire life, and you sold it. You sold us.” Legolas took two measured steps forwards until he was practically toe to toe with Halldor and crouched down, Ava’s blade forced him to look up and meet Legolas’ eye, “Tell me, where is Agdan?”
“I do not know! Please, please, Prince Legolas, have mercy!”
Avaleina’s sword tip pressed more firmly against Halldor’s windpipe.
Legolas leaned in closer to his face, each word punctuated with tense silence, “ I. Don’t. Believe. You.”
“I swear it, I swear! I do not know!”
From the back of the group, the youngest of the men called out, “He fled West! Two weeks ago! I know not where, just that he sought to cross the Mountains.”
Legoals rose back to his full height and looked to the young man, “Did Halldor know this?”
“Yes.” The man swallowed hard, “He was the one that informed the rest of us.”
Legoals tutted down at Halldor, “Begging for mercy and lying to me in the same breath? Brave. Inconceivably stupid, but brave.”
Halldor shuffled forwards on his knees towards Legolas, grabbing pathetically at the bottom of his shirt, “Forgive us! Forgive me! Find compassion within yourself!”
Legolas ripped his shirt out of the man’s grasp, “No.”
The man was dead on the floor before he could scream.
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July, T.A 2750
Elrond stared out over the Valleys walls into the seemingly empty lands beyond. Lands that he knew Greenwood Elves were stalking every closer to him through, somehow evading almost all manners of detection.
“How many?” Elrond asked Glorfindel without moving any feature but his mouth.
“Three, that I could make out.”
Elrond’s eyes slipped closed in silent defeat. If Thranduil had only sent three soldiers after the man, it meant that it was likely three of his best soldiers.
Ones that he knew regular soldiers would not be able to keep up with.
Ones that would not need the help of regular soldiers to achieve their goal.
“It gets worse.”
Elrond slowly opened his eyes and finally turned to look at Glorfindel, “How?”
“One of them was blond.”
“Eru help us all.”
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July, T.A 2750
Legolas crouched down in the dirt looking at where Agdan’s tracks had ended, and three horse-tracks coming out and back into the valley appeared, and sighed. “Well, we almost got him before the Noldor.”
“Almost only counts in dreams and in storybooks.” Avaleina and Tern both quoted their weapons master perfectly.
He stood back up straight, “Nightmares are a kind of dream.”
“Are you suggesting that we’re in some sort of collective nightmare?” Tern asked.
“No,” Legolas said simply, “But Agdan is about to be in one whether he sleeps or not.”
Avaleina crossed her arms, unconvinced, “And how do you suggest we get him back from Elrond? There is no way he will release Agdan back to us if he even sniffs that we have ill intentions.”
Legolas began walking towards the Valley Entrance, “Probably correct. But asking nicely never hurt anyone.”
The other two fell into step behind him, and Tern sounded as unconvinced as Avaleina had just a moment ago, “And when asking him nicely does not work?”
“We’ll cross that bridge if it comes to it.”
“Don’t you mean ‘burn that bridge’?”
“Ideally not.”
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Thank you so much for reading, I would love to hear your thoughts or what your favourite parts were!
I'll see you in chapter two!
Chapter Text
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Imladris
“Allow us to go out and meet them.” Elladan leaned against the door of the storeroom his father was currently rooting around inside.
Elrond did not budge from where he searched the back of a deep cabinet, his reply muffled by the wood, “No.”
“We know Legolas better than you-”
“And most likely whoever he brought along with him-”
“So if we want this to go as smoothly as possible-”
“It’s only logical that you send us out to see them first.”
“It is logical,” There were a few clinking sounds from the depths of the cabinet as Elrond slowly extracted his upper body from within it. “The answer is still no.”
“Well then-”
Elrohir placed a restraining hand onto his twin's arm, silencing him. “What is it that you are afraid of, Adar?”
Elrond looked between his two sons carefully, “Stay right here a moment.”
Slipping between the two and back out into the hallway, Elrond's footsteps quickly made their way down the hallway until they were difficult to hear. A polite request for one of the other healers to begin preparing the selected herbs drifted back to the storeroom, quickly followed by the same swift and confident stride returning.
On his way back into the storeroom, Elrond paused to prod his sons off of the doors so that he could close it behind himself.
“You both cherish your friendship with Legolas, and he cherishes his friendship with you. My fear is that the Legolas you would go out to meet would not be your friend Legolas who you know and love so well. That instead you would find the Prince of Greenwood The Great, who is significantly more difficult to get along with.”
Elrond added after a sigh, “And much more unpredictable.”
“You do not think we are capable of helping you navigate this?” Though he tried his best to hide it, a wounded undertone had settled into his words.
“I did not say that, Elladan.” Taking a step forward, Elrond took Elladan’s hand in both of his and waited in silence until his oldest child lifted his eye to meet his fathers. “I know that you and Elrohir are both capable of helping me navigate everything this world has to threaten us with. That is a fact that has never been questioned, nor will it ever be questioned.”
He paused, waiting for a sign that Elladan believed what was being said to him. When he nodded, Elrond continued. “What I am attempting, poorly, to tell you is this: No matter who navigates this, there is a higher than I would like chance of it going poorly. Of all the things that could be negatively impacted as a result, it is extremely important to me that your relationship with Legolas is not one of them.”
Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, debating if this answer was satisfactory or not. Elrond waited patiently for them to decide.
“Very well-”
“We accept your excuse.”
“Barley,-”
“But we do accept it.”
“Good.” The two made to open the door and remove themselves, “Ah. I said that you were not to go out to meet them. I did not say that I did not have a job for the two of you.”
“Which is?”
“Protecting the human.”
Elrohir frowned at him, “From what? Surely you do not think that Legolas would shed blood in your home.”
“It is my sincere wish that he would not, and even more sincere wish that he does not even attempt it. But, should the worse begin to occur-”
“You want us to get the human out of the city before the Woodelves can kill him.” Elrond finished, as was his habit to do so.
Elrond nodded to them grimly, “I suspect you might also have to protect the human from himself. The herbs I was retrieving are for a calming tea, not enough to fully sedate, but enough to calm even the most panicked patient.”
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Greenwood
The walls of Imladris loomed ever closer. In minutes, the small group of Greenwood Elves would arrive at the first set of strong stone and metal gates that separated the city from the rest of the world around it.
The peaks of the roof on the main house were just starting to appear over the treetops when without any of them saying a word, Legolas, Avaleina, and Tern clustered together in a loose circle under one of the larger trees. Feeling and looking a bit like chicks tucked under the loving and protective wing of a chicken.
Tern was the first of them to speak, “Scale of one to ten, how ill of an omen is it that Glorfindel was not sent out to greet us?”
“Seven.” Avaleina answered without thinking about it.
Legolas, however, did pause to think. “Eight. Eight and a half.”
“Alright,” Tern sighed, “That’s what I thought. Wanted to double-check, would have hated to overreact.”
“You love to overreact. It's practically your favorite thing.” Legolas teased him while he reached out to the surrounding trees, less awake than any of the trees back home, but awake enough to tell him whether there was anything lurking around that might overhear them. There were none, according to the trees. “We need-”
“-To be very careful.” Tern cut in, full of impatience, “Yes, yes. We know. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not an idiot.”
“Eh,” Ava replied to him, wiggling her hand back and forth in a ‘so-so’ gesture.
Tern’s head slowly turned to the right to stare at Ava with shock, hurt, and a hint of fabricated rage, “If I’m an idiot, then you’re an idiot, too.”
“I never said that I wasn’t.” She replied, still looking at Legolas and pointedly not at Tern, “I feel like it is worth pointing out, though, that I’m a captain of my own patrol, and you are not.”
“Yes,” Tern’s scowl bled into his words, “A patrol full of idiots.”
And Avaleinas’s self-satisfied smirk bled into hers, “And me as their King.”
“That being said-” Legolas stressed, only to be immediately cut off again.
“That being said - we can’t let our tempers overrule our reason.” Avaleina quoted Thranduil's last piece of advice to the three of them before they had left the vicinity of Greenwood to go after Agdan. She added under her breath, “The hypocrite.’
“An-” Legolas sighed dramatically as he was cut off once more.
Tern opened his mouth and released something more akin to a grumpy jumble of sounds rather than actual words, through practice alone the other two were able to understand him flawlessly “And I need to let the two of you do most of the talking. Since, apparently, I let many things overrule my reasons even on a good day.”
“It's easy to overrule something which does not exist.” Avaleian commented, unable to resist.
He threw his hands up in exasperation and annoyance, then playfully shoved Ava in the shoulder, “Would you stop being so cruel to me!”
“Stop making it so easy.”
Tern looked to Legolas, “Shouldn’t we get changed before finishing our journey to the valley?”
“For what purpose?” Legolas frowned, “Afraid that we’re missing the newest fashion trend in Imladris?”
“No,” Tern answered, resisting the urge to shove him in the shoulder like he had just done with Ava, “So that we do not look like we are one mildly burnt piece of toast away from committing harrowing acts.”
Avaleina let out a few delighted cackles at the comment, “To accomplish that, we would have to change into entirely different people.”
Equally surprised and delighted by her rebuttal, both Legolas and Tern both let out cackles of their own.
“Besides,” Ava added, as the laughter died down a bit, “The only change of clothes that we have with us are from the Avari. Which, I think, would be even more alarming than what we are wearing now.”
“Both valid points.” Legolas heaved a great sigh and turned back to the general direction of Lord Elrond's home, “Shall we?”
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Imladris
It was practically sunset when the sound of laughter announced the imminent arrival of their Greenwood Visitors. About an hour later than they had anticipated, which, hopefully, did not mean they had spent that hour scheming amongst themselves.
Elrond looked over to where Glorfindel stood next to him, appearing significantly more calm about the events that were about to unfold. Even after so long together, it was difficult to tell when Glorfindel's serenity was genuine and when it was preformative.
One of his many talents that Elrond envied.
Looking away from his friend, he turned to glance behind himself towards the room that the human was staying in. Not entirely sure what it was he was searching for, but found some relief to see that Elladan and Elrohir were not struggling to keep the human jumping out of the window.
Or something else equally foolish.
He looked forwards again just in time to see Legolas melt out of the forest a few feet from the gate, rather than approach the city from the roadway that led from the valley entrance to the main front gates.
Two more elves slipped from the trees with equal ease and mystery behind him.
One of the accompanying elves was Avaleina, of which Elrond was certain, for no other reason than because of how much shorter she was than her two companions. He was unsure who the third elf was from this distance.
His first guess had been Farlen, but that didn't seem correct. The walk didn't have the same degree of curated swagger. Besides the fact that as far as Elrond could tell, Legolas, Avaleina, and Farlen had not left the forest at the same time for a few centuries now.
"He brought Avaleina and Tern along with him." Glorfindel muttered quietly, as if he could read his Lord's mind and uncertainty. Tone revealing nothing about how this information made him feel.
Elrond had only met Tern a handful of times, since according to Legolas, he had little interest in visiting the valley. The few times Tern had been in the valley, he’d hardly heard him speak more than half a dozen words a day. Each one sharper than the last.
"On a scale of one to ten, how bad is that for us?"
Still not looking over, Glorfindel shrugged, “It depends”
"Depends on?”
"On who sent them. In the best case, Thranduil sent them. He’s a curious creature, he might have just sent them to get answers. Second-best option, Ferdan sent them. He’s their commander after all, if he feels that there's a risk to the safety of the forest or its people he might send his warriors to investigate it.”
“The worst case?”
“They sent themselves.”
The Greenwood Elves began to cross the bridge.
“Which do you think that it is?”
Glorfindel sighed deeply but nearly silently, “Not the first two options.”
The Silvan Elves did not march across the bridge as Elrond had anticipated, they strolled.
Casually.
Leisurely.
Which was significantly more troubling than marching could have ever been.
Strolling meant that whatever had been strong enough to pursue a human across a mountain range with all haste no longer burned their veins. It had settled into their bones, coiled among their organs, beat with their hearts.
It meant that they had already decided or been told what the acceptable outcomes of this interaction were going to be.
That one way or another, they knew how this situation would come to an end.
Legolas was in the lead by a step or two, Avaleina and Tern walking behind at the same pace on his left and right respectively.
Their uniforms were unlike anything Elrond had ever seen anyone in Greenwood wear. Warrior or otherwise.
Which was equally foreboding as their strolling.
Instead of the usual enchanted fabrics, they wore something significantly sturdier, form fitting, and perhaps most jarring of all: Black.
Not shades of brown and green.
Black.
Avaleina said something to her two companions softly enough that the rushing water beneath the bridge prevented the words from carrying any distance. Both of them laughed with her.
Legolas’ laughter sounded the same as it always did, but Elrond could not help but feel as though it was sharper somehow. Edged. Perhaps even mocking.
He hoped it was only his nerves making it sound that way.
The three visitors came to stand at the very edge of the walkway, millimeters behind the official city boundary line.
Upon closer inspection, the clothes they wore appeared to be dyed leaves weaved together to make a stiff fabric, which had then been sewn into clothes. Deep leather hoods had somehow also been attached and hung down their backs, perhaps the leaves were worn overtop an inner leather layer.
It was the closet thing to Silvan battle armor that Elrond had ever seen. Had the situation not seemed so tenuous, he likely would have asked them dozens of questions about it. Instead, he did his best to carefully file them away for later.
Then prayed that this went well enough there still was a ‘next time’.
“Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel.” Legolas greeted diplomatically, putting a hand over his heart and gently bowing his head in a show of recognition and respect. “Well met, it is good to see you both in good health and good spirits.”
Behind him, Avaleina and Tern copied his bow, hands over hearts.
Both Elrond and Glorfindel bowed their heads in return. Standing up straight once more, Elrond greeted them, “Legoals, Avaleina, and Tern, Welcome to Imladris. It's always a relief to see you arriving in the valley on your own two feet.”
Usually, Elrond would embrace Legolas, but now he wasn’t entirely sure if he should.
In truth, by now, Elrond would have not only embraced Legolas tightly but also already begun ushering him towards the healing rooms for a once-over before filling him with food and lovingly stuffing him into the nearest bed.
Thankfully, Legolas made the decision for him, and took a step forward with an arm outstretched. Embracing Elrond and then Glorfindel, Avaleina doing the same in the opposite order.
Tern stayed exactly where he was, scrutinizing the greetings with judgmental silence and
crossed arms
Elrond pulled away from the embrace with Avaleina, gently resting his hands against the back of her elbows to keep her from retreating too far, “Are you alright? You smell of blood and antiseptic herbs.”
“It’s nothing. It will be healed fully in a day or two. ” She moved her arms gently out of his grasp and stepped back so that she stood beside Legolas. Tern continuing to monitor the situation in silence behind them. “Thank you for the concern, but it is not needed.”
Tern's eyes snapped upwards and fixed onto something behind and to the right of Elrond's head. As if some great sound had bellowed from that direction that only he could hear, eyes narrowing slightly. Not unlike a bird of prey.
A sinking feeling deep in his stomach told him that if Elrond were to check, which he wasn't, that he would find Tern staring directly into the window that housed their newest acquired guest.
“Ran into some trouble in the foothills on the way here.” Legolas supplied vaguely. “Nothing that we were unable to handle swiftly enough.”
“I’d say that the trouble ran into you,” Glorfindel gestured loosely to their outfits and the arsenal strapped to them. Impressive both in variety and quantity, “Not the other way around.”
“Well, regardless," Avaleian said, gaze slowly lifting to look in the exact same spot that Tern was still staring at, her eyes narrowing the same fraction that Tern’s just had. “They will be running into nothing and no one ever again.”
For a lack of what else to say, Elrond asked, “To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure of your visit?”
Legolas’ smile was thin and unlike himself, “Unfortunately, I have a feeling this visit is neither unexpected nor will it be as pleasant as both of us are accustomed to having.”
Elrond struggled not to look over to Glorfindel.
“We have come to speak with the human that you recently acquired," Legolas said carefully, in a tone of voice that Elrond could hardly recognize as his.
“We have several newly welcomed humans, most have not even told me their-”
“-The one that was found outside the valley early this morning. I assume by Glorfindel and the twins, judging by the hoof and footprints.”
“Black hair, a bit taller than Avaleina.” Tern added from where he still lurked behind his two companions, “Has the remarkable ability to stand upright and walk around without a spine.”
Elrond could feel the rage that still lurked within the minds and bodies of their visitors. Hear it in their tone, see it in the stiffness of their bodies, feel it in the tight heaviness that surrounded them.
“He is very unwell.” Elrond told them with sincerity, “I cannot let anybody see him until his condition improves.”
A long, heavy pause stretched out before and between them.
Legolas appraised Elrond in a manner that he found to be deeply unsettling, cocking his head lightly to the left. The gesture was so alike to Thranduil, that Elrond found himself bracing for whatever was about to happen before Legolas had even opened his mouth to respond.
“With no disrespect intended to you and the rest of the valley,” Legolas held his gaze without blinking, “We are not requesting to see him. I am informing you that we will be seeing him before we return home the day after tomorrow. Depending on what he has to say for, we will be taking him with us when we go.”
The flat certainty of Legolas’ voice left no room for debate or compromises.
“Perhaps it would be best to move this conversion somewhere a little more private.” Glorfindel suggested, his usual carefree tone sounding tighter than normal.
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Greenwood
For the past several centuries, every single one of Legolas’ visits to Imladris began with a physical examination, usually followed by several different tonics of varying degrees of horrific tastes. It was a tradition that Legolas usually dreaded.
Not necessarily because he resented the care, but because it was difficult to forget the toll the war took on him when it was framed through the eyes of an outsider. Almost impossible when deeply knowing, empathetic gray eyes could look you over once, and know where every new scar and bump lay.
Inside and out.
For the first time in recent memory, Elrond did not insist that Legolas and the rest of the visitors allow him to check them over. In fact, he did not lead them to the healing wards at all. Nor did he lead them to his personnel office, instead he brought them to what Legolas assumed was an official meeting room on the other side of the house from the healing rooms.
He could not help but wonder if it was done deliberately in an effort to keep them as far away from where Agdan was staying as possible. Did Elrond believe that they would senselessly slaughter him where he lay in his bed?
The momentary sidelong look that Avaleina gave him suggested she wondered the exact same thing.
One whiff of Legolas, Ava, and Tern had all Imladris residents unfortunate enough to cross paths with them darting down side hallways, or retreating back the way they had just come with all haste. He wondered if it was their expressions or their weapons that caused such a uniform reaction.
Perhaps it was a mixture of the two.
Reaching the end of the hallways first, Glorfindel held open one half of the double doors for the rest of the group. Elrond entered first, followed by Legolas, and Avaleina. Tern pointedly waited in the hallways until the Balrog slayer shrugged and went into the room before him.
Half the space was taken up by a large wooden table with enough chairs to comfortably sit fourteen, and the other half was filled with various different comfortable armchairs and side tables. Large windows took up most of the wall opposite the door, overlooking one of Imladris’ many impressive and beautiful waterfalls.
“I don’t think I have ever been inside this room before.” Legolas commented while making a subtle point of examining the room, “How interesting.”
Tern strolled around the edges of the room, hands in his pockets and shoulders loose. Although every aspect of him appeared to be casual, Legolas knew that he was anything but. Knew that he was searching for any hint of deception or traps in the room, or the rest of the valley.
“I thought this conversation would best be had somewhere with the smallest chances of us being interrupted.” Elrond said, back to being as warm and open as always.
Seemingly as warm and open as he always was, anyway.
It was an act, Legolas knew, but it was a good act. Good enough that it was possible he would not have noticed had the tree’s not already whispered about the elven lord's growing distress when faced with their imminent arrival.
To his right, Legolas noticed the nearly imperceptible narrowing of Avaleina’s eyes, which practically whispered ‘Liar’ of their own accord.
Thankfully, when she spoke, it sounded as casual as Tern outwardly appeared. “I owe you an apology. I suspected you have decided to use this room in an effort to keep us as far away from the human as possible, whale still seeming as hospitable as possible. Either because you did not trust us to behave in an even borderline civilized manner, or in order to give the twins the best opportunity of getting him out of the city before we noticed.”
“How foolish of me.” She gave them all a suggestion of a pleasant smile, “It is relieving to know that my fears are unfounded.”
Legolas did not miss the unnatural stillness that briefly possessed Elrond at her words, even as movement returned to his limbs as quickly as it had left them. It was Glorfindel, though, he spoke on the valley's behalf, “We are not naive enough to believe that we would be able to get anybody out of any forest if you did not want them to leave it.”
Tern praised somewhat darkly from where he stood in front of one of the windows overlooking the valley, “Very wise of you.”
“I have my moments, although I usually prefer to leave the wisdom to those who are better at it.” Glorfindel gestured between the table on one side of the room and the assorted chairs on the other, "Perhaps we should get to the bottom of this before we continue to assume each other's drastic measures.”
“Sounds like a decent enough plan to me.” Legolas agreed, selecting one of the plush armchairs and settling himself into it. Avaleina sat in the one next to him, her feet barely brushing the floor, so she folded them up onto the chair with her. Tern crossed his arms and leaned them on the back of her chair.
Elrond and Glorfindel sat across from Legolas and Avaleina.
A thick, uncomfortable silence filled every other open space inside the room.
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Imladris
Glorfindel did his best to study the three that sat across from him, mostly unsuccessfully. Silvan Elves were difficult to read at best. Legolas and his friends had been trained and raised to be impossible to read.
The only thing that he could readily tell was that they seemed to be as anxious about this meeting as he and Elrond were.
Which was not overly comforting.
In his experience, precious few things on Arda were able to make Legolas anxious. Even fewer things when he was with his fellow warriors.
“It is my guess that our side of this tale is significantly shorter and less eventful than your side of it.” Glorfindel did his best to monitor his body, keep it relaxed enough as to not arouse further suspicion. “But I will tell it to you the best I can nonetheless.”
It felt like if he squinted his eyes or focused hard enough, Glorfindel would have been able to see the silent communications flowing between Legolas, Avaleina, and Tern. Conveying information to one another in whatever manner unknown and fascinating manner the Silvan elves were able to do so.
“The human was discovered crawling around in the dirt near the head of the valley early this morning by Elladan, Elorhir, and myself,” Glorfindel began. “He was in a state of absolute panic, dehydrated, and making very little sense.”
Glorfindel could remember his confusion when their appearance had seemed to startle the human more than they had anticipated. Was it because the human had seen his blond hair and assumed Legolas was the one that had caught up with him?
“All we managed to comprehend, and not through lack of effort, was that he was being chased by something and that he was begging for us to help. He was too frightened to speak about whatever it was outside the walls. He said that speaking about them would ‘summon them faster’.”
“Well, he was correct about that last part.” Tern commented, “I’ll give him that.”
“It was not until we got him inside the valley, into a healing room, and with Elrond that he finally told us it was ‘The Woodelves’ chasing him.”
“And then?” Legolas asked, voice sharp.
Elrond continued where Glorfindel had left off, “And then we hoped he was hallucinating. Desperately wished it to be so. We know that your people have positive and protective relationships with most of the human villages near your forest, and did not want to think that something horrible enough had occurred for him to not only be removed from the grace of your people, but to also experience their wrath.”
Avaleina snorted in what might have been humor, or might have been derision. “And what did he say was the reason for us to be searching for him?”
“He did not say,” Elrond admitted, “Only that he had made a mistake-”
Legolas, Avaleina, and Tern went simultaneously rigid as if cold water had been thrown over them.
Elrond continued with cautiously when none of the other spoke, “and that you would not understand or forgive him.”
“Did he say anything else?” Legolas asked, the clenching of his jaw betraying his anger regardless of how well his voice hid it.
“His time here has been filled pleading for mercy and begging us ‘not to let the woodleves get him.”
Legolas said in the same void tone, “Yes. I’m sure that it has.”
“We were going to wait a day or two, see if anybody truly came looking for him, before we made any decisions about what we ought to do with him.”
Glorfindel finished off their side of the story, “Then the three of you turned up before the sun had set on the first day. Now, perhaps you could give us some context for whatever is unfolding around us.”
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Greenwood
Avaleina looked over to Legolas and read him faster than one could read the weather after looking through a window. She read his face, his posture, his carefully timed breaths to appear steady and even, and the way he subtly gripped the arm of the chair with one hand and his knee with the other.
She gave him one single nod, a signal that she would do the speaking on their behalf, and felt the smallest upturn of her mouth at the utter relief in his eyes at her silent offer.
Turning back to Elrond and Glorfindel she began, “The human is called ‘Agdan’. Former Chancellor of a village called ‘Fernhollow’, who we have been friends with for dozens of their generations.”
She could still feel the weight of the dread in her feet when they had approached the edge of the forest closest to Fernhollow and saw the buzzards circling overhead. Could feel how tightly she had gripped Legolas’ hand when they got their first look at what lay inside the village walls. “They were good, hardworking people. So full of light, love, and compassion. They were always the first to offer aid to the other villages, whether they had much to spare or not. They used to have a celebration called, ‘The Dance Of Lights’ at the end of the summer, where they would thank and honor the fields for gifting them with food and good soil.”
Avaleina loved The Dance Of Lights, she had attended it perhaps close to a hundred times but could never grow tired of it. How heartbreaking it was to know that Arda would never be graced with the celebration again.
“A few months ago, several warriors were doing a routine check on Fernhollow.” She paused to sallow down the dread that was steadily crawling from her feet to her neck in an effort to choke her, as it had on the day of the discovery. It did not seem important to mention that she and Legolas had been among the warriors. “They found the village in shambles. The villagers had been slaughtered. Ripped apart.”
She looked down at her lap and shook her head solemnly, “None had been spared.”
They’d had to count the dismembered limbs to estimate the death toll. As soon as they were done laying all the villagers to rest, Legolas had thrown up until his body had nothing left to expel. Avaleina had done her best to comfort him, but was unable to find any words to speak and had settled for rubbing his back and offering him water in between heaves.
“We found what we had thought was Agdan’s family on the floor of their home… and strewn across their small fenced yard.” She raised her head again to meet their eyes, "Perhaps it was his family. The bones were small enough to be the right age.”
Elrond and Glorfindel both winced, either because of the image she’d painted for them or because they could guess where the story was going.
There was a soft knock on the door.
Tern went from leaning on the back of Avalena’s chair, hands folded and resting on her shoulder, to standing rigidly upright. Ready to both attack and defend, whichever the situation was about to call for. Glorfindel stood up to answer it the door, patting Tern in a reassuring manner on the shoulder as he passed, “Peace, Tern. It’s nought but food and drinks from the kitchen for us all.”
Tern did not lay a hand on any of his weapons, but he did turn to more fully face the door. Shifting to the right enough that whoever was at the door would be unable to get a clear shot at Ava or Legolas.
Just in case.
Glorfindel opened the door slightly, enough for a tray heavy with various foods to pass through the opening. “Hold on a moment,” He kindly told whoever had been brought to deliver the goods, before closing the door once more. Strolling past Tern, Glorfindle placed the tray onto the largest table that sat in the middle of the circle of plush chairs and returned to the door for the second tray that held the various different drinks.
“Thank you.” He said in the same kind tone, softly closing the door and returning to the center of the room, where he could place the second tray directly next to the first.
“I figured that eating well-balanced meals would be the least of your concerns while crossing the mountains,” Elrond shrugged. “The warm liquid is a tea mixed with a bone broth I asked the healers to brew for you, to faster replace the nutrients and hydration you’re lacking. Before you ask, yes, I also asked them to put several teaspoons of honey to help with the bitter taste.”
Avaleina could feel the small amount of relief and comfort this seemed to bring Legolas, even if he did not show any of it outwardly. Through the tree’s he said to her, “He makes me drink this every time I visit. I thought that perhaps, under the circumstances, that this would be the first time he did not.”
Out loud, Legoals said, “There had better not be any sleeping herbs in it this time.”
“None. I swear it.” Elrond raised up both hands in a show of peace and innocence. Worried it would not be enough, he placed on of his hands over his heart and repeated, “I swear upon my union with Celebrian, there is nothing in the tea that will put you to sleep or otherwise dull your sensibilities.”
Reassured enough, Legolas leaned forward and took one of the steaming mugs and handed it to Avaleina and took a second for himself. The third he let rest where it was, already knowing that Tern would not be consuming any of the food or drinks on display.
“I apologize for the interruption.” Glorfindel leaned forward to grab a few pieces of fruit and meat from the tray, “Please, continue.”
Ava took a few cautious sips of the tea, finding a small amount of comfort as well in the familiar bitter taste. She held the cup between both hands and rested them on her lap. “Two weeks after we discovered what had happened in Fernhollow, we found another village that had suffered the same fate. Dewfront, was its name.”
Suddenly worried that her hands might begin shaking with the memories that began to plague her mind again, Avaleian took another small sip of the drink and held it out to Legolas. Understanding her silent request, Legolas took the mug from her hand and carefully deposited it back onto the table.
“Two weeks after Dewfront, we found Skystead. Another two weeks and we found Mossgaurd.”
“Two months and four villages had been completely obliterated?” Elrond breathed, eyes looking at nothing in particular. "All those lives…”
“After we had finished burying the people of Mossgaurd, I tore what was left of the town apart, board by board and nail by nail.” Her hands, fingers, and eyes had ached with how relentlessly she had looked for clues or evidence for what was happening. She had been picking splinters out of her flesh for weeks afterward.
“I found a piece of parchment, on it was a crude map that showed a half dozen of the villages around our forest. In the top right of the parchment, there was a written list of what information each town possessed about us, and the best ways to force each town to make a deal to share that information.”
The world had stood still while her mind spun faster than it ever had before, struggling to comprehend what exactly she was holding, all the implications that were attached to it. For several minutes, she fully understood why Legolas sometimes punched things when he was upset. “I knew I recognized the writing, but could not place it. Thranduil did, though.”
“It was Agdan’s writing, wasn’t it?” Glorfindel asked, voice full of dread.
Ava nodded in confirmation. “We were able to interrupt a meeting between the fifth village and the servants of evil right before those who made the deal slaughtered the rest of the villagers in a show of loyalty to the Necromancer.”
Unbeknownst to them at the time, Harmund had already arranged for those who had not been at the meeting to be locked in their homes. Particularly feisty humans had been beaten and knocked out or tied up to prevent them from interfering.
In one of the homes they had found a man dead from choking on his own tongue, several head wounds coloring his dirty blond hair a rusted ruby color. Three young children has been sobbing against his motionless chest, only one of them old enough to speak and beg them to help her Papa.
Legolas, reading her as well as she head read him earlier, finished the story for her. “Afterward, one of the villagers told us that Agdan was not, in fact, dead with the rest of his village and family. That he had fled west
“And then you tracked and chased him across the Misty Mountains to see for yourself if it was true or not?”
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Imladirs
Legolas’ answer was cold and flippant. “It wasn’t as dramatic as all that. Even with a two and a half week head start, we did not need to track him. All we had to do was follow the sound of his pathetic whimpering drifting on the wind all the way to your doorstep.”
Elrond did not need his foresight to know that he was going to immediately regret asking, but still could not stop himself. “What happened to the humans who were having the meeting with the agents of darkness?”
Legolas fixed him with a cold, hard stare over the table. All the usual light and warmth nowhere to be found, nor even the memory they had even been there. “I beheaded their leader in front of them while he was still begging for my mercy, and then we killed the rest of them before they got three steps towards the door.”
“I see.”
“Well, all but three of them,” Legolas added, as if that made the situation better.
Elrond could do nothing but stare at the elf across from him. The elf that looked so much like the Legolas that he knew and loved, but acted so little like him. The Legolas he was so used to warped himself in good-natured warmth, and wielded nothing but his wit The elf across from him wore a cloak of ruthlessness, wielding necessity like a sharpened weapon.
“I will not apologize for it, either.”
“I did not expect you to.”
Another long, stifling, silence stretched out between the five arranged throughout the room. The now nearly fully setting sun cast long shadows across the walls and the faces of the Woodland elves.
In this light it was easier to see the new scars on Legolas’ hands, arms, and the one on his neck just behind his ear. The small piece of ear that Avaleina had not been missing on her last visit, the circular indentation on her right forearm. The missing finger on Tern’s right hand, the scar ugly enough Elrond knew it had not been surgically removed.
Ava and Legolas looked over at each other, behind them both, Tern stood back up to his full height.
“The hour is growing late, and we have laid much on your minds.” Avaleina started, uncrossing her legs and standing back up. Legolas following suit beside her. “We’ll return to our camp in the forest and leave you to ponder the situations and options presented. We will return in the early afternoon, give Agdan enough chance to rouse himself from the herbs.”
“Returning to your forest camp will not be necessary, we have rooms already prepared for you.”
“We thank you for the offer and the hospitality, but you will rest better without having to worry about us attempting to slit Agdan’s throat in the night.” Legolas quickly finished the liquid that had been in his mug, setting the empty vessel on the table, “And we will rest better where our every breath and blink is not carefully watched and scrutinized.”
“Legolas, really, there is no need-”
“The answer is ‘No’, Elrond.” Legolas said, sounding so much like his father once more. “Do not ask us again. The only thing that will change is my temperament, not the answer.”
“At least take the food, then.” Elrond said, desperate even to his own ears.
Hearing his cue, Glorfindel set to work immediately, pulling the large square of fabric that served as a tablecloth out from underneath the platter of food and dumping the contents of the tray onto it. Tying the four corners together in such a manner there was little risk of the food falling no matter how roughly they traveled with it.
He held it out to the three of them. “Please, take it. If you will not accept anything else.”
Another moment hung in the air.
Legolas reached out a hand and took the tied corners, “Thank you. Until tomorrow, then.”
“Until tomorrow.” Glorfindel agreed.
Legolas pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, holding it open for Avaleina to join him. Tern was the last to leave, tossing, “We know our way out. No need to watch and make sure,” before firmly closing the door behind himself.
In a matter of perhaps two and a half minutes, Elrond could feel as the Silvan elves had slipped out of the building, leaped into the heights of one of the tree’s, and vanished over the wall into the forest. Immediately camouflaging themselves among the rest of the growing things.
“It could have gone worse.” Glorfindel said to the now nearly empty room.
“Could have gone significantly better, too.”
“Correct, but it could have also gone significantly worse.”
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Okay….. I lied…. It's going to be three chapters. Whops, sorry!
Regardless, I hope that you enjoyed the update! I would LOVE to hear your favorite part/parts, and I’ll see you all in the real final chapter <3
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Last Edited Sat 02 Aug 2025 05:24AM UTC
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