Mornie utúli
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alanti
A promise lives within you now
When the Enemy arose again in the South and long shadows began to creep over the land, many messengers arrived at Rivendell at the house of Elrond. A council was to be held the next day, and among those who had been invited to it was a tall man with a noble face, proud and stern of glance. Boromir was his name, he was a son of far Gondor in the South and had never been to Rivendell before. With wondering eyes he walked the halls, deeply lost in thought, and so it came that he passed the place where on a shrine of stone the shards of Narsil, the Sword of Elendil, lay. There he stopped to look at it and did not notice me sitting not far from him, for I had been reading in the many volumes of the Elves. Amazed the man of Gondor stood and took the hilt-shard in his hand. Defying the centuries that had passed since it broke under Elendil when he fell, Narsil, the Sword that had cut Sauron's ring from his hand, was still sharp. It stung Boromir, who gazed at the drop of blood that it had drawn with wonder. Then suddenly a change came over his face, as if he had been in a dream and now came to, and he threw the broken blade back with a disdainful look and proudly went on his way. I put down my book and walked over to the shrine where I carefully rearranged the shards of the sword that had many years ago passed to me, for I was the Heir of Elendil's son Isildur. A sudden foreboding came to me then, that soon, as had been said of old, the broken sword was to be forged again. It would accompany me on a dangerous journey of many perils and trials that because of my lineage were mine to face. Long had I feared that the day would come when the Great Ring would be found again. In the North Sauron's Ring of Power was called Isildur's Bane. With grief I stood and wondered, was it to become my bane as well?
From the depths of memory a voice found me and spoke words that I had heard many long years ago, words that I treasured in my heart.
"Isildur's bane is not yours to share. Many trials await you, but do not despair. I see a light in you that will overcome all darkness."
Ah! Whenever dark times came and my heart grew heavy, I always remembered these words that had once renewed hope in me when I was lost.
"Fair One," I whispered softly to myself, and my heart beat faster when in my mind's eye I beheld the dear face that I loved. "Long have I waited. Will the time soon come when we meet again at last?"
I was but a young man of twenty summers when Elrond the Wise, who had taken the place of my father when he was slain by Orcs, revealed to me my true name and lineage. Soon after I had learned all this, a great restlessness befell me, and I took leave of all who were dear to me and left Rivendell for many years to walk in the wild alone. It was solitude I sought, for I was indeed Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Lord of the Dúnedain, the Heir of Isildur, and heavy was this burden upon my young heart. Many days I wandered until I came to a deep wood that was strange to me.
Tall and silent stood the mighty trees that had witnessed the Elder days, and their roots were strong and went deep. High above in the branches the wind moved through the leaves and softly sang an ancient melody that was both sweet and sad. There I halted and listened long, and suddenly the foresight of my kindred came to me. My heart was filled with grief for I realized that many trials and hard times were waiting along my path. Dark days were coming, and the days of the Watchful Peace were soon to come to an end. Where was I, the Heir of Isildur, to find hope to fight for the freedom of my people when doom had been laid upon me with the very blood that flowed in my veins? Long gone were the great days of the Dúnedain, and now our race was diminished and scattered like leaves in the wind. All that remained of my ancestors' great deeds were tales and songs both sweet and sad like the songs in the mighty trees above. Weary were my feet when at last I walked on, and my way took me deep into the dark wood, but I did not care, for all light of hope had left my heart. When darkness fell the tall trees grew silent and watchful, but did not hinder me from passing as I sought my way to the heart of the forest. The moon was full and bright in the star-hung night sky when at last I came to a clearing that was bathed in clear silver light.
As I stepped out of the shadows of the trees onto the lush grass of the clearing, a feeling came over me that I had entered a sacred realm out of time, a holy place that no mortal had ever beheld before. On the far edge a silver spring was streaming from a rock and cascaded over the black stone, winding its way along the line of trees where it took a sudden turn and disappeared in the shadows of night. A thin veil of mist hovered above the sparkling water. Fresh and cool was the air, and as I stood enchanted, I felt as though I had strayed into a dream. Slowly I approached the small stream, and when I reached it, a nightingale began to sing in the high branches above. All my senses seemed sharpened by the magic of this place, and never had I heard a bird sing so sweetly, or seen the stars shine so brightly above. My heart was pierced by the breathtaking beauty of it all, and broken and lost as I was, I sank to my knees and began to weep.
"Weep not, stranger," a soft voice came to me from the shadows. "This is not a place for doubt and grief."
Into the light stepped a fair young man clad in silver and white, and for a moment he appeared to be a creature of the mist, until he came closer and I noticed the bright elven-light in his eyes. An Elf of high birth with hair of shining gold and noble features that possessed the innocence and fearlessness of youth. So stricken was I by his beauty that I could not speak, but my tears subsided at once and my heart grew strangely light as though a heavy burden had been lifted from my soul.
"Who are you, I wonder?" he spoke again. "For you are indeed the first mortal the Wise of the Woods allowed to enter this realm that is sacred to my people." The Elf's eyes rested on me with astonishment.
"Estel was I called," I said, "but I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Isildur's Heir."
The fair Elf bowed his head in greeting and smiled. "Hail, Dúnadan! Many tidings of your great deeds in the company of the sons of Elrond have come to our land. I am Legolas, Thranduil's son."
There shone a warm light in the eyes of the son of the Elf-king of Northern Mirkwood as he looked at me, and for a moment it made me forget all that had troubled my heart for so long, and a strange shiver ran down my spine. I felt a curious longing to be with him, as if in my heart I had known him for a very long time without being aware of it until this very moment.
"Fair One, forgive me for entering this sacred place, I did not know where my path was leading."
"You would not know," Legolas smiled, "for it has been hidden from mortal eyes since the Elder days, and never do we mention its true name but to our kin." Then his expression grew grave, and thoughtfully he tilted his head to the side. "Yet you were allowed to enter, and not without good reason. Tell me, son of Arathorn, what brings you into the Sacred Wood?"
With halting speech I began to tell of my grief and the foreboding that had troubled my mind, and the Elf sat down by my side and listened quietly. As soon as he came close, a deep calm came over me, and the words began to flow from my mouth. His eyes rested on me as I spoke, and while I dared not look at him at first, after a while I found myself drawn to the kindness and wisdom in his eyes and could not avert my gaze from his beautiful face any longer. When I had finished, I was not aware of the silence between us for a long time. I could only look at fair Legolas, and my heart was beating fast inside my chest. The Elf did not speak for some time, but when he did his voice was like music to my ears.
"Estel," he said softly, "Isildur's bane is not yours to share. Many trials await you, but do not despair. I see a light in you that will overcome all darkness."
In this moment the deep forest was silent around us, and even the silver spring seemed to hold its breath. Again I felt as if I was inside a dream. With my heart and soul I longed to believe what the Elf had told me, and out of a desperate craving I lifted my trembling hand and gently touched his face. His fair skin was soft and warm beneath my fingers, and a deep aching grew inside of me until it filled me completely; a yearning to be with him and share with him all that I felt inside. He did not draw back, but smiled, and though he had not seemed of greater age than me before, suddenly in his eyes the wisdom of many days was revealed. Abashed I drew my hand back and looked down. I was young of years, but I understood that it was not fit for a mortal like me to be with one so noble and fair. Many years lay between us and Legolas was too far above me. I had yet to pass many trials and learn much of the world and the hearts of men, before I could ever hope to earn his favor. But still from that hour I loved the fair Elf-prince of Mirkwood.
"Sleep now, Aragorn, son of Arathorn," the Elf said and his wise eyes shone with a kind light. "Tonight you may rest under the protection of the Wise of the Wood, but in the morning you must leave this land and never return." He smiled at me with a warmth that filled my heart. "Go lightly on your way, friend. In years to come you shall find what you now deem lost. Yet many years will pass until we meet again."
No more did we speak of this, and soon I lay down by the silver stream and fell into a deep sleep. When the mists of morning filled the clearing and the sun warmed the ground with her golden rays I awoke refreshed, and Legolas was gone. The Elf had left me food and a flask of miruvor, the cordial of Imladris that I knew well from my days at Rivendell. I ate and took a sip of the precious liquor, and at once I felt a new strength of heart. It was then that I understood why I had been admitted into this sacred place the night before, for here I had found a greater treasure than what I could have ever hoped for. It was then that my hope returned, and from then on it would stay with me even in my darkest times. Thus I continued on my journey and left the Sacred Wood and the Silver Spring never to return, but my heart I left behind.
Long had I stood by the shards of Narsil in the house of Elrond, lost in memories so precious to me. Many summers had come and gone since deep in the Sacred Wood I had taken leave of my heart, and on my many journeys never had I met the fair Elf-prince of Mirkwood again. My days had been dark and long, and the innocence of youth had long left my features, and often had I gone in many guises and hidden my true shape. Much had I learned of the world and the hearts of men, both evil and good. Many perils had I faced, and many trials passed, but the most important one lay still in the shadows and would not reveal what was to become my fate.
"Estel!" a soft voice called me suddenly by my Elvish name that I had not heard for many years. I turned around, and in the doorway he stood in fine garments of brown and green, a vision of strength and grace, untouched by the years. The same wise elven-light in his eyes, the same fair face that had been in my dreams every long day and night since we had parted half a mortal lifetime ago.
"Legolas!" I cried when the one to whom my heart belonged stepped into the room. Never had I been so overjoyed and light of heart since the far days of my youth.
"Legolas, son of Thranduil, we meet again at last!"
The Elf nodded and smiled, and his face lit up when our eyes met. "Yes, friend, at last. Many tidings have I heard of your noble deeds in the years that have passed, Dúnadan. But I wonder, in the many years, have you come to find what long ago you sought?"
"Yes, Legolas, I have," I said gravely and crossed the room until I stood in front of the one my heart desired. "It was hope that I sought to find, and a long time ago I met the one who showed me all I needed to believe."
"Then you were lucky to find such a light to guide your way." There was a look on my beloved one's fair face that touched me deeply, and I noticed that his lips trembled slightly when I took another step closer until our bodies almost touched. Tenderly I looked in his eyes.
"Lucky I am indeed, for I have only walked in its afterglow, but now my light has found me right back."
"Estel," the Elf-prince sighed, and with careful hands I pulled him tight, and our lips found each other and melted in a blissful kiss. It mirrored the yearning of all the years it had taken to accept what had begun so long ago in a realm out of time. Until this very moment my heart had lingered there, by the Silver Stream of the Sacred Wood where I had found hope in an hour of darkness in the most unlikely place.
Fin
Site Info
We are the home of 1292 authors from among our 2552 members. There have been 2904 reviews written about our 3820 stories consisting of 10734 chapters and 29400445 words. A special welcome to our newest member, Rosamundeb.Categories
Skin Change
Donate
Help us keep one of the oldest running LotR archives available to all. Even the smallest donation helps!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
The Library, elsewhere
Other projects
Estel by Noctiluca
Story notes: Author's Note #1: Story-wise this is a cross between book and movie -and my own imagination running wild. This is AU fic, meaning I've changed a few things, so be warned. Thanks to Soul' and AV for beta-ing.
Author's Note #2: "Estel" is the Elvish name Elrond gave Aragorn, meaning "hope".
Dedication: To Soul'. "We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."
