Cuil o Erestor addelia nedhnîf hin tîn. (Erestor's life
replays before his eyes.)
"Gellam Bardúliel!" (Joyous Homecoming!) called out Fearfaron
suddenly.
As if awaiting that cue, which of course they had been, a quartet of
musicians entered the glade from the opposite end and headed for the
protection of the awning as they shook the snow from their cloaks and
greeted the new couple traditionally:
"Galu bo lîn herth." (Good
fortune on your household.)
They unpacked their instruments, a harp, a
drum, a fine slender silver whistle and a set of bellows-pipes. In no
time they were settled and began playing a lively reel. Even as the
first notes sounded through the air elves came filtering into the
meadow, smiling and calling salutations, wishing the bond-mates good
fortune before joining in the jig.
Legolas let Fearfaron act as host for he could not stand still while
the pipes commanded his feet to dance. He grabbed Berenaur and tugged
him out into the growing number of swirling bodies. The steps were
complex and the rhythm rapid, but it was not unlike the circle dances
held in Lorien, thus the Noldo was able to keep up with his silvan
mate. They whirled and wheeled, dipped and leaped, crossed over and
under and promenaded.
Legolas laughed and smiled as his golden tangles mingled in the fanning
black tresses of his love's long locks. He could hardly remember the
last time he had danced.
As for Erestor, he could not recall ever enjoying a party more.
Wine was consumed and the delectable goodies devoured, the revellers
kept the musicians playing and soon it was mid-afternoon in the
Greenwood. The glen's ground was devoid of its frozen carpet, the
dancer's feet having melted that away during the first reel. The piper
called a halt and everyone clapped and thanked the players, pressing
them to take nourishment and refresh themselves so the festivities
might resume in the delightful strains of their lively music. The snow
had ceased falling and Anor peeked through widening gaps of vibrant
blue in the white starchy clouds.
And into this peaceful lull of murmuring conversation and amiable
goodwill marched Talagan and a handful of his soldiers, an angry crowd
of complaining elves pressed around their flanks.
"There he is!" an outraged voice shouted.
"Seize that meddling spy!" another demanded and the throng surged
forward in a mass of dangerous grumbling.
Talagan, still at the head of this unruly serpent of writhing energetic
wrath approached the new couple and the party-going guests fell back to
let him pass.
"What is your meaning, bringing tribulation here?" demanded Fearfaron.
This soldier had a habit of bringing his son bitter doom. "This is a
celebration!"
"I am here on the orders of the King," the warrior stated and turned to
gaze upon Legolas and Erestor. It gave him a sharp pang to see the
expression of dread fleeting through Tirno's eyes and not a small
amount of worry over the angry resentment that followed after. His
sight took in the seneschal's stoic demeanour and the unguarded fury of
the healer. Thranduil's old friend noted the sullen glower in
Lindalcon's stare and verily cringed to behold the austere reprimand in
the Human's face, mirrored on the wizards' countenances as well. But he
had a purpose and must adhere to it.
"Erestor of Imladris, you are required to return to the stronghold and
answer for the crimes of your Realm in the trespass of the sovereign
Kingdom of the Wood Elves," spoke Talagan and the mob around him
erupted into shouts of confirmation.
"The dungeons! Throw him in the dungeons!"
"Aye, lock him away!" the elves shouted and raised angry fists to shake
at the accused.
"Nay!" yelled back the Tawarwaith and got between his mate and the
Sinda captain. "You will not lay hands upon him!"
Erestor was quite gratified to hear this and tightly gripped his
beloved's shoulders.
The assembly hesitated; it would not be so easy perhaps to defy the
Tawarwaith. Then Lindalcon stepped forward.
"Let them alone! Erestor is one of us, now. You would not imprison one
of our own!" he called out and the rabble's resolve seemed to
re-ignite.
"Stand aside, son of Valtamar, he must pay for his crimes!" someone
from the back warned.
"He shall not see the dungeons, yet he must face his errors!"
"This must be done!" another concurred.
"Nay you shall not!" shouted Legolas again and began pushing Berenaur
backward away from the seething mass of irate elves.
But the guards, realising he would try this, had quietly circled around
and now blocked this means of retreat. The couple came to a stop and
everyone stilled.
"Perhaps we should just go and find out what this is all about," this
was Mithrandir's voice, calm and placating, as he moved closer to the
bonded couple, a grim smile upon his lips. "No need for untoward
violence here."
Legolas stared at him in disbelief, not expecting the wizard to suggest
he allow this arrest to take place. But then a small mental wink
drifted into the wild elf's mind and his eyes widened even more.
Abruptly his gaze flew to Lindalcon and found there the answer to this
hullabaloo.
A prank!
He could not help but be impressed at the magnitude of the trick and
could not resist playing along, though Berenaur would be furious upon
realising he had been duped. It took a great deal of strength to
command his face to remain contracted in a deadly scowl of wrathful
indignation, but the Tawarwaith managed it, grateful that Berenaur was
behind him and could not see the tell-tale sparkle lighting his eyes.
"Mayhap Mithrandir is right. Thranduil cannot lock anyone away without
a trial. He is just trying to spoil things. If you go along and see
what he wants he will have to let you return here shortly," Legolas
said as he finally turned to face his love.
"What?" Erestor was shocked and he stared at Legolas, noting in
confusion the strange gleam in the wild elf's eyes.
"I will accompany you to ensure diplomacy is adhered to," Mithrandir
said.
Aiwendil shook his head as though in solemn pity and stared at the
trampled ground, for he could not look too long at the dumbfounded
expression on the Noldo's features and keep his own sombre. Aragorn
suddenly turned away, unable to command his countenance at all, his
face averted and screened with his hands and shoulders stooped lest he
give them all away. The healer hurried over to him in his 'distress',
guiding him a little apart from the others till he regained his
composure. Aragorn refused to lift his gaze to hers, for she knew not
the manufactured nature of this ominous scene, thus to hide his stifled
laughter.
The Man's old tutor became even more alarmed upon observing these
reactions, especially Aragorn's. What had the mortal heard to render
him so disparate? Had Elrond worsened the situation by sending another
of his inflammatory missives?
"Willingly or not you must accompany me," stated Talagan and took hold
of the Noldo's arm.
"All will be well; I am right behind you," encouraged Legolas and gave
his mate a little shove forward even as he sent the Sinda captain a
piercing look that forewarned dire consequences should anything
untoward occur.
That was enough for the throng. They swarmed the advisor and the
warrior and swept them away from the glade.
"Aye, he will learn not to act against the Greenwood!"
"Needs his eyes opened!"
Lindalcon and Legolas fell in behind the mob, observing the dark head
of the Noldo amid the sea of brown and yellow as he was borne away.
"Do not harm him!" called the Tawarwaith, a little concerned by the
sheer number of bodies now between him and his love. His heart skipped
a beat as he noted that Talagan and his guards were summarily shoved
aside as the host plowed ahead. The soldiers did not look as though
that was part of the staged lynching.
"Legolas!" Erestor was not in the least confident in the multitude's
willingness to obey that directive once the warriors were no longer at
his side. The seneschal was buffeted and shoved from elf to angry elf,
hustled along toward what end he dreaded to learn. Erestor could not
see Aragorn or the wizards anywhere and his Pen-rhovan must be very far
behind for he had completely lost sight of him.
"Mayhap we should show him the fastest way out of the Woodland Realm!"
a cold voice suggested near his elbow.
"Aye! To the river!" a chorus answered and the horde veered off course.
"Cast him into the stream!" But they were not making for the docks
behind the fortress. They were heading out into the forest.
"Wait! I thought you were taking me to the stronghold!" shouted Erestor
in alarm. They could not really mean to run him out of the woods on a
barge to Laketown, could they? "Legolas!" The Imladrian began resisting
in earnest.
Lindalcon and Legolas slowed, watching the direction of the retreating
rabble with sinking hearts. Too well they knew where this path led.
"Nay! Not the Enchanted River!" yelled Lindalcon, distress apparent in
his escalating pitch.
But the forest folk just registered appreciation for the young elf's
thespian gifts to be able to render such a realistic semblance of panic
to his words. As if on command they took up the chant and surged ahead
with greater resolve. "To the Enchanted River! Cast him in!"
"Oh Valar!" hissed Legolas and grabbed his brother's arm. "What have
you done?" he shrieked and began shoving through the back of the
massive agglomeration, desperate to reach Berenaur before the unruly
group achieved its objective. It was hopeless, they would not let him
pass. Legolas leaped into the trees.
"Daro!" called Lindalcon to the congregation. "This is not the right
way!" He was astonished by the realisation that the multitude so ready
to act upon his merest suggestion earlier now ignored him completely.
It was a lesson in group dynamics the young diplomat would never
forget.
But if I do not stop them, Erestor certainly will forget!
"Mithrandir, do something!"
"I do not think they will listen to me," he shouted back.
Perhaps a
bit
of flash and sparkle will alter their course. The Istar met his
fellow
wizard's mind and together they uplifted wooden staffs aglow with
blinding light. A loud concussion of the air issued from the Maiar's
weapons and a great ball of blue and red energy shot up into the
branches. A bright soundless explosion of starry streaks spewed from
the disintegrating orb and fell among the crowd.
The unexpected display halted them briefly and some cried out in dismay
and fled. The rest leaped forward as one, assuming this was also a part
of the play, and ran with even greater determination to the wanly
glistening banks of the sluggish stream. Four able-bodied silvans
grabbed their foreign prisoner by the arms and legs and hoisted him up.
"Let go of me! Unhand me at once!" Erestor fought against the
manhandling, indignant and incensed but no longer fearful, realising he
was about to take a second and very icy bath but little comprehending
the real danger. He could swim, after all.
But he could not get free of the hearty woodland warriors as the elves
swung him back and forth to build up sufficient momentum to carry him
out into the very middle of the black, motionless liquid. A glimpse of
golden hair caught his eyes just before the silvan citizens flung him
away and then he was sailing through the air. His arms flailed and he
twisted in hopes of going in feet first and the next sensation he knew
was the jolting agony of his left shoulder as the remainder of his body
attempted to dislocate from it at the joint. He groaned as he looked up
and met the clear blue eyes of the wild elf that had snatched him by
the hand. The next instant his feet did meet the stream and sent a
great arc of the oily water up around him.
The gathered elves gave an appreciative exclamation of amazed delight.
It had all come about so neatly! None had known exactly how the rescue
would be done and to see their champion race to the aid of his mate so
gallantly and acrobatically was highly gratifying. They clapped for
Legolas, suspended upside-down, legs wrapped around a low-hanging
branch of a hemlock as he kept a firm grip upon the Noldo's hand with
both of his.
"Pen-rhovan!" exclaimed Erestor with relief.
"I have you," rasped the archer through gritted teeth, for the strain
was equally great upon him.
"Well I am grateful but let go; I will not drown and you look quite
uncomfortable."
"Nay! Climb up! Now!" commanded the Tawarwaith and the seneschal
obeyed, using his agile mate for a ladder and eliciting a few grunts of
displeasure for it. Once he was safely settled on the branch Legolas
swung back upright and pulled him into a strong embrace.
A great cheer went up from the congeries accompanied by much laughter
and congratulations all around. The silvan citizens truly had not
intended to harm Erestor and believed everything had transpired exactly
as Lindalcon had planned. This was indeed the most elaborate and
entertaining bonding-rite prank ever! Finally the elves began to
disperse.
"What was that all about?" drawled the advisor with a sleepy yawn.
"Hurry, we need to get these leggings off!" said Legolas, trying to
untie the lacings as Berenaur attempted to fold him up in a languid
embrace. A sultry chuckle accompanied the resistance.
"My, my, Pen-rhovan; you are very eager! But this is not the
appropriate place for such activity. There are still people standing
around watching us."
"Just do as I ask, Berenaur; your legs are soaked to the skin! We must
get you dried off quickly."
"But it is frightfully cold," whined the seneschal. "I do not want to!"
Erestor squirmed ungracefully from his lover's arms and almost tumbled
down into the river for he found himself unaccountably lethargic and
his co-ordination not quite as it should be.
"Valar! Stop that!" Legolas was frantic as he grabbed onto Berenaur's
tunic just in time to prevent the fall. The Noldo smiled in mild
confusion and again attempted to wrap his lanky frame around the Wood
Elf, resting his cheek upon the archer's shoulder with a sigh of
contentment as he sank into oblivious repose.
"I will help," a repentant voice called from the ground and Lindalcon
vaulted into the tree.
"Here, take my cloak," offered Fearfaron, who had by now caught up with
the others as the crowd departed, bringing the wizards, the Man and the
healer as well. He held the coat out for Lindalcon and waited patiently
by the base of the tree. Movement attracted his eye and he spied the
Sinda captain hovering nearby attempting to be inconspicuous. The
carpenter charged for him.
"You! How could you allow this to happen? What manner of leader are you
to give over an elf into the hands of an uncontrollable mob? Too often
are you at hand when despair finds Legolas!" he cursed Talagan and it
truly seemed as though he would strike the captain down had Gandalf not
intercepted the Spirit Hunter.
"Nay, he is not alone in this, Fearfaron; do not place all the blame on
Talagan," said the Istar. "Is the seneschal well?" he called back
toward the elves in the tree.
"What do you mean, wizard, and be plain in your words!" fumed
Fearfaron, but for the moment Mithrandir ignored him.
"It is too soon to tell," murmured Aiwendil. "His head did not go below
the surface, however, so there is hope."
"Why, what is at risk here?" queried Aragorn. There were numerous
rumours and stories concerning the Enchanted River and judging by the
grim expression on the archer's features not all of them were
exaggerations.
"Everything!" snapped Legolas and unexpectedly tears filled his eyes
and he cuddled up against his love, roughly shoving Lindalcon away when
the younger elf advanced. He held his mate close and ran a shaking hand
over the crown of ebony hair resting on his shoulder. "He will forget
me! He will forget everything!"
"Oh Valar! Legolas, I did not mean for him to…" Lindalcon sobbed,
horrified for such to come to pass, unable to complete the dire
thoughts aloud.
"Aye, it was a foolish ploy. Though no injury was intended, I should
have prevented this," Talagan quietly apologised, remaining outside the
circle of Tirno's family as they gathered closer to assess the damage.
"It matters not; it has happened," Legolas' voice was cold and distant.
"Help me get him down from here."
"The water steals memories?" Aragorn was incredulous and looked to
Fearfaron for confirmation.
"In most cases," the carpenter heaved a morose sigh. "Usually only
recent memories are erased." It was evident to all that the last few
weeks' worth of Erestor's experiences were but a fleeting second in the
toll of immortal time. He had returned to the hemlock and was ready to
receive the Noldo's feet as Legolas and Lindalcon handed him carefully
down.
"Yet Aiwendil has a point; those victims were completely submerged and
spent days asleep. Erestor has only got his legs wet and his eyes are
open," remarked Gladhadithen. She approached to inspect the slumbering
Noldo where Fearfaron held his limp form up, pressing an ear against
his chest to listen a few minutes. She raised serious eyes to Legolas'
despondent ones. "His pulse and breathing sound as would any elf in
normal reverie. There is a good chance he will be unaffected, Tirno."
"Oh, Legolas, it was just a joke! They were supposed to douse him in
the Forest River by the docks!" wailed Lindalcon as he jumped down from
the limbs. Seeing the insensible Imladrian propped up against the
carpenter's shoulders brought him to weeping anew.
"I know," Legolas stated flatly as he landed beside him. "Mithrandir
explained it to me back in the glen. But it was not planned out very
well, was it, and turned stupid and cruel."
Mithrandir and Aiwendil winced at this and shared chagrined looks,
including the woebegone Man as well.
"We are equally to blame," said Aiwendil contritely. "We knew of the
plan. I am so sorry, Legolas."
"It is true; I beg your forgiveness," whispered Aragorn, eyes on the
forest floor and its muddy trampled snow.
"All of you?" demanded Legolas angrily, glaring among his friends. His
eyes met Talagan's briefly and in that second's worth of contact
promised to exact retribution both swift and severe.
The warrior tore his gaze free and hurried back toward the stronghold,
unwilling to be the one to inform Legolas that he was expected in the
Council Chamber at dawn, with or without his Noldo lover.
"Nay, not Fearfaron," confessed Lindalcon through his tears. He could
not believe he had caused so terrible a hurt, all for the sake of
staging a foolish stunt. "I would give anything if I could undo this!"
"There is nothing to be done; we must wait and see how he fares once he
awakens," sighed Legolas dejectedly. "Help me carry him," he directed
Lindalcon but Aragorn stepped forward instead.
The mortal hefted his old tutor's soggy ankles and motioned with his
chin for Lindalcon to take the shoulders. They struggled, for the Noldo
was quite tall and garbed in water logged clothing as well. They
trudged awkwardly back to the clearing, the head of a melancholy
procession none of them had expected to participate in on what should
have been a joyous day.
Tbc.
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