Unspoken ( A Legolas Love Story )

2.17: Tidings of Sorrow, Peace and Hope

It was five days shy of the Summer Solstice when the returning Rangers crested the valley ridge. Lying well hidden in the bowl of the foothills right where they had left it, was the Dúnedain village of New Fornost. The trees had filled out, since they had last gazed upon this place, and once again Rangers' homeland was bedecked in rich and vibrant greens. They had been fifty when they left, but now just over forty now made their way along familiar paths down into the valley.

As they got closer, smiles began to grow on the Ranger's face displaying everything from open relief to sheer joy. Although they brought great sorrow back with them, they also brought tidings of peace and hope. With the lands of Angmar and Mount Gundabad emptied, the Dúnedain could rest easy for many years to come.

Legolas's heart should have been light as he too approached the village, but a particular matter from early that morning weighed on the elf prince's mind. The event in question had been largely inconsequential or so it had initially seemed.

As Legolas and Wren sat down for breakfast with the other Rangers, Wren had complained about the quality of the breakfast served, or more accurately, the cooking skills of Drélen. Which was in no way unusual, as Wren had in fact repeatedly complained about the morning fare in the last week or two, along with the other Rangers; she was undoubtedly eager to return home and become reacquainted with a more varied diet. However, on this particular morn after a few bites, her face had turned a pale shade of green, just before she quickly scarpered off to the nearest bush to relieve herself of the offending breakfast. Legolas had been mildly concerned; perhaps Wren had contracted some sort of illness on the trip. Although this pattern of thought had quickly evaporated, when Legolas's sharp eyes caught Elladan and Elrohir exchanging wide-eyed glances at each other. Thereafter, Legolas heard the tail-end of some muttered words between the pair, their consternation evident.

"Surely not... It takes will and planning..."

"For elves...perhaps... but for those with mortal blood...?"

There was not the time nor the private opportunity for Legolas to question the brothers on the true meaning of their conversation. Wren by all appearance was now feeling fine and in much better spirits as they approached New Fornost, so Legolas tried to push the underlying concern from his mind.

As they approached the river, the Rangers happened upon a group of children playing and splashing in among the rocks and the rivulets. The children stopped in their game, half a dozen eyes blinking in surprise for a moment at the sudden appearance of the Rangers. Then, suddenly hysterical shrieks of joy exploded from the children.

"Papa, papa!"

Two little boys practically threw themselves into the river, with an urgency that nearly matched that of their father as he leapt in and waded halfway across to meet them. The other young ones turned and sprinted back to the village along the trail, all shouting at once announcing the Ranger's arrival, while Elladan smiled as he slowly raised Beringil's horn to his lips and blew one long note.

The Ranger's reception was no less enthusiastic, as the party emerged from the tree-line and into sight of the village. The news had spread far and wide in a matter of minutes, and everywhere people were spilling out of their homes or running in from whatever task had occupied them. Parents embraced their sons and daughters, wives their husbands and brothers their sisters. The jubilant nature of many reunions filled the air like sweet music.

Legolas spotting Enid, craning her neck above her rounded shoulders to see through the crowd. Beringil's wife looked both expectant and hopeful, and the openness evident in her otherwise homely face was heartbreaking in its beauty. Her young son stood beside her, his tiny hand clasped in hers. Elladan and Elrohir slipped away from the gathering throng to her side, and at their appearance Enid paled. She knew. Tears began to roll down her face, as she lifted Halbarad to her breast and buried her head in shoulder. Encircled by the sons of Elrond she was gently escorted to her home as they shared in her grief. Legolas watched sadly, as other Rangers broke away from the grip of their own families and approached those villagers who still waited anxiously for their loved ones. The faces of those villagers, were now grey with apprehension and the dawning realization that those they waited for, would no longer be returning home. The Dúnedain were truly united and dignified in their sorrow, as they all knew at what price peace was bought.