Five Years Later (A LOTR Fan-fiction)

Here Come the Dwarves

        Legolas paced in his room. He'd sent Aron to Minas Tirith to ask his friend Aragorn for aid. Legolas was trying his best to direct his people, but he found himself distracted. His father had gone away. Where? Legolas did not know, but he was now the King of Greenwood, and he had to protect his kingdom. It had been almost two weeks since Aron left, and there was no word. He was beginning to worry. Had the Orcs captured him? Had he encountered some other enemy? Was he sick? Aron was only 1700 years old. He was young compared to Legolas' 2136 years. Legolas' thoughts were interrupted by a steward running into the room.

                "My lord, help has arrived!" the young man announced.

                Legolas wasted no time. He practically flew down the stairs. When he reached the city gate, he got a pleasant surprise. Gimli the Dwarf was there with a few hundred of his brethren. Legolas knelt before his friend and they clasped forearms. Legolas had sent a messenger to the Dwarves as well. But he had not been so worried about Felanier. Felanier would have been traveling underground, and would have been safer – it was a shorter distance to the mountains, too. The young Elf emerged from the crowd of Dwarves and entered the city, clearly relieved to be away from the crude, bearded men. Legolas could only think of himself. He'd thought that way once, but changed his mind when Gimli had treated Elves, namely the Lady Galadriel, so kindly.

                "My friend," Legolas began, standing, "I am glad you have come."

                "I would not miss a chance to help a friend in need," Gimli replied.

                "I also sent a message to Aragorn. Did you happen to see him on our journey here?" Legolas knew the Dwarves didn't travel above ground much, but he could hope that they'd seen Aragorn and his army when they'd come above.

                "I am sorry, Legolas. I did not see him."

                Legolas' face fell. He was sure that – even if he had gotten the message late – Aragorn would be on his way and could be seen in the distance. Legolas' hope was failing. The Dwarves would be a great help in this battle, but they needed Men. Gimli put his hand on his friend's forearm.

                "Do not despair, Legolas. If he has gotten your message, he will come. We must have patience and hold out as long as we can."

                "Yes, Gimli, if he has gotten my message. I sent a young man. I fear that he may not have made it. Aron has not seen battle. He was always inside caring for the wounded, serving, or carrying a message to a safer area. He's a good marksman, but that would do close to nothing against such numbers of Orcs," Legolas sighed. "Let us continue this inside."

                The Dwarves were led into the palace and shown to a dining hall. While their men feasted, Legolas and Gimli went up into another, more private, room. Legolas collapsed into a chair at a table and Gimli sat across from him. Legolas called to a servant and had him bring some food. Once the meal was set before them and the servant had gone, Legolas and Gimli sat in silence, eating.

                Legolas' mind was spinning in circles. Where was Aron? Was he hurt? Was he dead? Did he deliver his message? Was Aragorn on his way? He didn't know, and it bothered him. He placed his head in his hands, elbows on the table.

                "Legolas," Gimli said, leaning over the table a little, "have you been sleeping aright?"

                Legolas looked up, "Not for two weeks. I keep thinking about Aron; feeling that I have sent him to his death. I agonize over whether Aragorn will come or not. Our armies are strong together – yours and mine. But I feel like we cannot win unless Aragorn brings his men."

                "But that's not all, is it?"

                "No. I thought I could carry the burden of running my father's kingdom, but I was mistaken. I have been in many battles, but only as a soldier. No matter how hard I try I cannot lead my men as well as my father could have. I feel as though I have failed him, and my people."

                Tears threatened to fall from Legolas' eyes, and he tried to hold them back – but they fell anyways. He did not sob, nor weep. The tears just streamed down his cheeks as he stared out of his window at the forest. Trees were charred and the ground was just burnt dirt from the last Orc attack.

                "I have failed, Gimli. I am not as wise as my father is."

                Gimli suddenly stood up, sending his chair falling backwards and catching Legolas' full attention. He was now eye-level with Legolas, but had a stronger air about him in this moment and was therefore rather intimidating.

                "Don't say that Legolas!" Gimli ordered. "You are the king of your people. I do not think your father would have left if he had any doubts on your abilities as a leader, or your wisdom. You have a good head on your shoulders and many years of experience. Just because one enemy is too much for you does not mean you are a failure."

                Legolas looked into his friend's eyes. He believed Gimli but he still felt guilty. Then, out of nowhere, a young elleth (she-Elf) appeared in the doorway. She walked over to the table and knelt at Legolas' feet, her head bowed.

                "My lord, there is a message for you," the girl stated, handing Legolas a small envelope. Had the girl looked up, she would have seen her king wiping his eyes. But she dared not until he addressed her.

                Legolas took the envelope, "Thank you, Anmellia. You may go."

                Anmellia stood, curtsied, and left the men alone. Legolas opened the letter and read it. He read it again, and again. Again. His eyes began to tear up. It was Aragorn's handwriting. He'd sent a bird with it. Legolas' hope began to return.

                "What's wrong?" Gimli asked, thinking the tears were ones of sorrow.

                "Nothing," Legolas said, standing. "Aragorn is on his way. He should be here in by this evening."

                Gimli let out a cheer, but the sound was interrupted by a loud crash. Legolas ran to his window. The Orcs had returned and were sending boulders crashing into the palace walls.

                "Prepare for battle!" Legolas shouted to the soldiers down below. And he ran off to collect his own weapons.

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