The Silvan (Lord of the Rings-Legolas)[Wattys2016]

Chapter 60: Eternal Goodbye

The guards at the main gates stood to attention and turned aside as the mighty, towering doors ground into action, and soon, Handir and Mithrandir, followed by the Company, strode into the Silvan camp. Before them, already waiting like stone statues amidst the ground fog, were Erthoron, Lorthil, Golloron and Narosen, and a little way behind, Amareth, who stood cloaked and quiet, her eyes cast to the ground.

Beyond the main tent, the rest of the Silvan people stood quietly in the early evening gloom, watching them, their every move, their sparkling eyes dancing over their clothing, their faces, their weapons and the elf that stood at the centre, partially obscured from sight. Finally, they looked at the scroll that Prince Handir held in his manicured hands.

The few noises there were, were muffled by the dampness and though it was late Spring, it seemed almost like a chill winter morning.

"Lords Erthoron and Lorthil," came Handir's powerful voice. "I am charged by my father King Thranduil of Greenwood the Great, to present to you, the rulings of the Permanent Council, in accordance with the petitions made by the Silvan Council, regarding the reinstatement of the Silvan Warlord."

Erthoron's face was solemn as he stepped forward, Lorthil at one side, and Narosén at the other.

Holding out his hand, Erthoron held Handir's blue eyes with his own, thinking perhaps to read the contents of the scroll behind them, but Handir let nothing slip, he simply held it out and watched as the Silvan leader took it softly and then nodded.

Breaking the seal of the House of Oropher with a soft crunch that seemed to echo far too loudly around them, he slowly unraveled the parchment and read.

Erthoron's forehead smoothed out and Lorthil's eyes sparkled, while Narosen's eyes glistened strangely and as one, the three Silvans' eyes shot back to Prince Handir, yet the prince no longer wore his mask of state, but a brilliant, joyful smile that shocked them all. They looked to Mithrandir of a sudden, as if to confirm what they had just read, and finding it, before swivelling on their heels and facing their people.

"He says 'aye'!!!!!!" shouted Erthoron.

The greatest cheer Handir had ever heard roared around the camp as weapons, brushes, vegetables and even cooking utensils flew into the air, and from afar, from the confines of the king's fortress, Thranduil looked at Glorfindel with unshed tears in his eyes.

"It is done, the past becomes the present, Lassiel rests peacefully upon Mandos' loving breast and Aglareb is perhaps healed in Valinor. I will see them both one day, and I will tell them this story, one that will pass into the annals of our collective history, the story of The Silvan...

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Legolas sat cross-legged upon the carpet inside the leaders' tent, wine and fruit laid before him, while Mithrandir stood leaning against his staff, shrewd eyes moving from Erthoron to Lorthil and then Golloron, only to finally linger on the very strange Narosén.