Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Legolas and the Rangers ❯ Father and Son ( Chapter 14 )

Chapter 14

 

Father and Son

 

Elrond paused as he left the infirmity. Standing just ahead at one of the large open windows stood Thranduil. The elven king looked tired and thin but his gaze was still sharp and threatening, his mouth drawn in a grim line.

 

Elrond knew Thranduil did not speak much these days but his anger was still mounting and it seemed as if old prejudices were coming to the forefront. Every day that went by with Legolas still missing seemed to make Thranduil, the threatening storm, grow even worse. Elrond was sure it wouldn't be long before the elf exploded.

 

However, Elrond brushed off his hesitation and approach the woodland elf, he could not afford to let there small friendship wither and die by doing nothing. All he could do was approach whether the risk of explosion occurred or not.

 

`No news is good news,' prompted Elrond. Thranduil scowled but did not turn or answer Elrond.

 

`Lord Glorfindel returned last night,' he continued. `There is still no sign the Prince but the search is now being directed down towards the plains and the river Anduin in the belief that he may have crossed it and be heading home to Greenwood.'

 

`Legolas won't go home,' snapped Thranduil. `He knows I am here and his stubbornness will see that he returns to me to tell me he is all right before he goes anywhere else.'

 

Elrond's lips tightened but he made no comment.

 

`If you wish to discuss anything then do not hesitate to ask. Good day to you,' said Elrond and then silently glided past the elven king, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

 

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`Do you realise I could have killed you!' roared Kit at Blaen. The younger ranger only laughed harder. By the time Trelaen approached, Kit was nearly ready to throttle Blaen who had close to fallen over.

 

Finally he calmed himself enough to gasp out, `I'm sorry but you know that sometimes once you start it can be hard to stop.' Kit, his face flushed with shame, scowled all the harder.

 

Suddenly, the mirth slipped from the young ranger's face as his eyes beheld who stood behind Kit. `Father,' he murmured.

 

Kit turned to look at Trelaen who seemed to have become frozen at the sight of his son. Neither seemed to see Kit step aside and for half a moment, Blaen was afraid at what he saw in his father's face. But it was quickly gone and in half a dozen quick strides, Trelaen had closed the gap between them and swept his son in a fierce hug.

 

Blaen could do nothing but return the embrace and he did with all the love he felt for the older man inside him. `I missed you Pop,' he whispered into Trelaen's shoulder. `I thought you were dead,' answered Trelaen, his voice hitching with emotion. `Where have you been?' he asked holding Blaen at arms length.

 

The young ranger sighed tiredly. `Beaten to a pulp in an orc encampment not far from here for a month before the twin sons of Elrond rescued me. I spent two weeks in Rivendell recovering and then slipped away to keep looking for the prince. It's taken me a week of hard riding to get back here and when I heard the bird calls I just knew you had to be near. For starters, the Southern Finch isn't native to these parts,' said Blaen with a teasing grin.

 

`Orcs?' growled Kit. `We just dealt with a pack to the north of here three days ago; you're not telling me there's more?' Blaen nodded but was interrupted by his father.

 

`What do you mean the prince?' demanded the elder ranger sharply. `I mean my companion,' answered Blaen confused. `Surely Elladan and Elrohir told you who accompanied me. When they rescued me they told the border patrol who later informed Master Elrond that they had met with you in the mountains.'

 

`No,' answered Trelaen. `They specifically said companion to describe him and nothing more other than that he was golden haired.'

 

Blaen sighed, `my companion was Prince Legolas of Greenwood. He father, the Woodland King, is still awaiting his son's return in Rivendell.'

 

Trelaen paled slightly, understanding that the elven King's situation could very nearly have been his own.

 

`Then let us move on,' said Trelaen grimly. `Time is wasting and we have some orcs to deal with.'

 

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Trelaen eyed his son carefully. Blaen's face was pale and a faint layer of perspiration covered his forehead. The other twenty rangers in the group had greeted Blaen with relief and a good deal of laughter at the expense of Kit when Blaen had described what had happened.

 

Now, they all gathered patiently outside the lair of the orcs they'd tracked back to their hideout. Fortunately, the cave faced into the setting son and the idea was to draw the beasts out and destroy them there. After that, their carcasses would be burned and their refuse removed.

 

`Blaen,' whispered Trelaen. The young ranger glanced at him before returning his gaze to the clearing. `If you have any lingering wounds and you're worried about them then I suggest you retreat now. We'll be fine son, there's no need to have you out there trying to be heroic when we could do without you,' said Trelaen but Blaen shook his head stubbornly.

 

`Nay father, I am fine. I want to fight, do not worry yourself over me,' answered Blaen. Trelaen sighed but allowed Blaen to have his own way.

 

A call went up and quickly the rangers drew their bows and fired into the darkness of the cave. Howls erupted as many arrows found their mark, most wounding but a scant few ending the lives of the black brood within.

 

The first onslaught of orcs from the cave was felled by another volley of arrows before bows were thrust aside and swords drawn to engage in combat. It was not an ideal situation but the clearing was too small and it would be risky shooting in a confined space where a single misstep could mean stepping directly into the path of an arrow never intended for you.

 

Blaen drew his sword and plunged into battle beside Kit and another older ranger called Asher. His sword thrusts were tentative at first and he had difficulty focusing.

 

Although he had not admitted it to his father, this was the exact same brood that had tortured him only a few weeks ago. He had not thought much of it since but being here surrounded by the same orcs was strangely frightening.

 

Some recognised him and leered at him but after he killed a few, they grew more wary though still continued to call taunts in the black speech.

 

Blaen gritted his teeth and ignored them. During a lull in the battle half an hour later, Blaen looked up, his eyes searching for his father.

 

He spotted him twenty yards away and it did not look good. Trelaen had been pushed away from the other rangers and had suffered a shallow gash to his sword arm which had made the handle of his blade slippery and difficult to grasp.

 

Adrenaline surged through Blaen and he dodged around Kit and another orc engaged in combat, struggling to reach his father. `Pop!' called Blaen desperately.

 

The press of orcs was thick however and Blaen realised it would be almost impossible to reach his father. With more orcs than had been expected, the rangers were continuously struggling to hold the upper hand.

 

One orc struck a glancing blow with a club to Trelaen's back making the older man gasp painfully. Another orc cut hard upward, using the ranger's momentary distraction to score from Trelaen's waist to the top his right shoulder.

 

`POP!' roared Blaen in terror, dispatching another orc as his father's sword slipped from suddenly weak fingers. Another swipe of the club from the first orc sweep Trelaen's feet from under him sending him sprawling in the dirt.

 

By now other rangers had noted the dangerous situation and were struggling to reach Trelaen's side.

 

Blaen yelled with fury as the setting sun caught the metal of the blade raised high above an orc's head as it prepared to deliver the killing blow.

 

It never came.

 

The thunderous sound of hooves erupted in the clearing as an enormous white stallion broke into to clearing. Blaen stared at the golden hard warrior as a flash of sliver spun from his hand. The orc toppled straight onto Trelaen, dead.

 

Like a warlord of old, Blaen watched the elven lord draw his blade as he drove his horse towards the orcs surrounding his father.

 

All were slain, some attempting to run, others before they even noticed the warrior was upon them.

 

The sight of the powerful elf seemed to turn the tide as many renewed their efforts against the black brood. In a matter of minutes, their opponents were dead, their blood pooling on the forest floor.

 

The elf dismounted as Blaen dashed towards his father. He heaved the carcass off and nearly sobbed with relief when Trelaen weakly sat up and pushed himself onto his hands and knees, struggling to regain his breath after being crushed by the orc's body.

 

Looking up, it was only then in the twilight of the evening that he recognised the elf. His face grim and tired, he still managed a small smile when he noticed that Trelaen was alright.

 

`Glorfindel,' breathed Blaen. The tall elf's gaze came to rest on Blaen at the mention of his name. `Aye, I came and it's looks like not a moment to late,' he responded.

 

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Legolas paused at the base of the Misty Mountains. They'd loomed in the distance for several days now but his heart lifted at seeing them so close. It was dusk now and he was ready to turn in but tomorrow, he would enter them and begin the last leg of his journey.

 

Throwing his pack down, he stretched before flopping down on the grass. Above him several stars were already appearing in the sky.

 

It had been at least nine weeks since he'd set out from Rivendell and he was more than ready to return. He wondered about Blaen and if the ranger had returned to his troop safely. He was more concerned about his father however.

 

He had been gone for so long and his unexplained absence was probably causing Thranduil no small amount of worry. With his older brother, Mintaril, still in Rohan, the last seventy years had given his father plenty of time to worry and fuss over him.

 

Legolas missed his brother though he had only been small when his brother left but he still remembered him and retained several small treasures given to him by his Mintaril.

 

Still, it would be good to be back. After all, it was not everyday that one got to visit Rivendell.