The dried brown grass crumpled beneath the horses' hooves as they canted across the open planes. The Iron Mountains could be seen in the distance, a gray strip on the horizon. There were very few trees so far from Mirkwood, but its shadow still loomed over the planes.
Damek shifted Legolas in his arms, feeling the child waking. He knew that would have to stop soon, but decided to ride on a bit further. As they rode, Damek's thoughts wandered to his family and the young elf sitting in front of him. His wife had just lost their third child through a difficult birth. It would have been another son. The death was very hard on her and shortly before he had left, she had fallen into despair.
Hopefully this young one will ease Nadezda's heart. He is old enough for the boys to play with, and will give her someone to dote on, now that the boys have begun their training. I know she worries about them, but perhaps with someone to look after she will not worry as much.
The small band of men slowed their tiring horses, deciding to stop for the day. They would be home before the end of the next day. Silently dismounting, the men began to move about, setting up camp for the night. Everyone knew their jobs, the left their leader to his business as he gently lifted down the young elf from his saddle.
Damek lightly held the young one's hand and led him over to a spot at the edge of the camp. Sitting him down, Damek dug around in his saddle bag and produced a few wooden animals that he had brought with him from the elven hall. Handing them to the youngster, he made a hand motion, meaning for the child to stay until he returned. Damek did not speak elvish, and the young elf did not speak Common or the language of the Gramuz. Teaching him to speak properly would be a task for his wife. He heard that elves were extremely fast learners, and he prayed that this was so. He did not want to always communicate in hand motions to the young boy. Satisfied that the elfling would keep himself occupied for the short time that he would be gone, Damek turned and led his horse over to the picket line, beginning to go about the task of unpacking him.
Legolas sat on the hard ground, taking the wooden animals from the man's hands. It had been a very long trip. He had been asleep for the first three days of the journey, the sleep potion coursing through his small system. In this way he and the small band of men returning to the foothills of the Iron Mountains passed out of the Greenwood realm. Legolas had awoken in a strange place, beside a strange man on the banks of a very large river. Those first few days were the hardest, not understanding what was happening or what was being said around him. The man, who had appointed himself his keeper, was gentle for the most part. He had never raised his hand against him, nor had he yelled at him when Legolas had tried to run away those first few nights; but being lost in the wilderness, no trees in sight, Legolas soon learned that it was better to remain close to the camp. He now contented himself to play with the small handful of wooden animals that were his only remaining thing to remember his home by. When he had woken up, he was dressed in strange clothes. The man must have removed his elven clothes while he was sleeping. He now wore an overlarge shirt and a pair of pants that had had to be cut so that he was not always tripping over the long legs.
Legolas moved the carved animals about, muttering in elvish as he played. He had never been a very vocal child; there were times when some even questioned his ability to speak. But weather he spoke out loud or not, Legolas had a wonderful command of the elvish language. Pausing a moment in his play, Legolas looked closely at the wooden horse in his hand. He remembered when his Nana had given them to him.
"Nana! What do you have?!"
Lewnë and Lessien followed behind their mother as she carried a wooden box into the nursery. Setting it down in front of Legolas she knelt before her youngest son.
"You and Lessien will remember these; they were your favorite toys when you were Greenleaf's age."
Lenwë and Lessien gathered close to their mother and younger brother as Eáránë opened the box and gently lifted aside the white cloth. "I tavaren ínias! (The wooden animals) Grandfather made them for you when you were little!" Lessien exclaimed. Eáránë began to lift the animals out of the box, setting them on the floor in front of Legolas. Lewnë picked up the bear and handed it to his younger brother.
"Megilvorn, dilthen gwador (bear, little brother). Can you say Megilvorn (bear)?"
Legolas studied the bear in his hand then looked up at his Nana.
" Megvorlio!" he cried, quite proud of himself.
Eáránë and her two children burst out laughing.
"Not Megvorlio, Legolas, Megilvorn. Try again," Eáránë encouraged. She was still laughing but smiled down on her youngest son.
Legolas looked at the bear again then looked to Lessien.
"Megilvorn, dilthen gwador (bear, little brother). Megilvorn. Bear." Lessien pointed to the wood carving in his hand, trying to get him to say the word properly. Legolas thought hard for a moment then looked back up at his mother.
"Megilvorn?" he asked, not quite sure if he had said it right.
"Yes! That's right! Megilvorn! Wonderful Ion-nin (my son)!" Eáránë scooped up Legolas hugging him tightly. Then without warning she began to tickle him, sending him into a fit of giggles. It was long before both Lessien and Lewnë joined in and they were one big pile of giggling elves.
They had been traveling for two weeks, following the wide river until they reached a very large lake. The small group of travelers avoided the villages and towns that spotted the shores of Long Lake, crossing by boat at night. By the fourth night on the road, Long Lake and its towns were nothing but a memory, as the band of men began their journey across the plains. They were making exceptional time; Damek was impressed with the speed that they had crossed the open plains. Usually a trip to Esgaroth took a party three weeks. They had come even further in just two.
Finished with his horse, Damek made his way back to the spot where he left the young elf. He was going to have to think of a name for him; he simply couldn't keep calling the elfling "it". Thinking of the names that he and his wife had gone over when naming their last child, Meaglin came to his mind. It was an old name, not so often used, but still common enough in Gramuz. Having reached the spot where the young elf sat, Damek. Kneeling before the young elf, he tried his first attempt at communication.
"Meaglin, your name is Meaglin." Gently he pointed to the elf. Then pointing at himself, he said "Da. I'm your Da." He repeated this, saying the names while pointing to himself and back to the young elf. He then pointed to the young elf, asking what his name was.
Legolas was confused at first; he didn't really understand what the man was trying to do. After about the third time, Legolas understood. A bright smile came across his face, showing his understanding. When the man paused, looking at him expectantly, Legolas answered "Meaglin." Smiling up, hoping for approval.
Damek was surprised when the elfling answered back. He hadn't really expected it to work, but was very glad he had taken the time to do so. Smiling and pointing to himself, Damek asked him, "Who am I?"
Again Legolas smiled at the man, glad for approval. His brow furrowed in concentration, then looked up. "Da?" The answer was more of a question than an answer. More confident now, he answered again. "Da, Ada."
Damek smiled and scooped him up.
"There's a good lad. Come Meaglin, dinner should be ready." He carried the small elf to the center of the camp where Kulin had started a fire and had the day's catch roasting. A medium size doe had been shot down by Mirko, and it now roasted on a spit turned by Kulin. The rest of the men had spread their bedrolls out near the campfire for warmth; nights were cold out on the open plains and even colder at the foothills of the Iron Mountains.
Kulin looked up from roasting deer when Damek entered the circle of light cast by the fire. He frowned upon seeing that their leader still carried the young elf. Kulin did not approve of Damek's choice to take the elfling, spawn of those who had killed many of his kinsmen. He found the boy to be rather tiresome and nothing but a burden. Without him, they would already be home. He did not understand Damek's need to replace the child that his wife recently lost. They already had two children who were almost grown. Why add another mouth to feed and more trouble than the brat was probably worth? Prodding the roasting meat, Kulin began to shave off tender pieces, placing them on the offered plates. He then used a pointed stick to stir the ashes of the fire, rolling potatoes out, and gingerly passing them off. Though the skins were blackened, the meat of the vegetable was well cooked, having sat on the hot bed of coals all evening.
Damek brought his filled plate over to where Legolas sat, warming his feet in the fire's glow. After cooling a small section of the meat, Damek then handed the food to the young elf. Using his belt knife, Damek cut the potato into steaming chunks waiting for them to cool, for they were too hot to eat immediately. While eating a piece of the meat Damek surveyed the men sitting around the campfire. They sat eating the deer, some talking, while others sat in silence. Thirty men had left their small village of Zlobin two months ago, and now only fifteen return. The welcome would be bitter sweet.
Legolas nibbled on the meat, eyeing the sliced potatoes on Damek's plate. There were small murmurs around the campfire, but mostly everyone sat and ate silently. He looked up at Damek, then back down at the potatoes. They looked awfully good, but he wasn't going to say anything. In no time, he had finished the chunk of meat that the man had given him. Still hungry, he looked longingly at the food that was cooling on Damek's plate. His gaze then drifted to where Kulin was still sitting by the fire. The carcass of the deer was much smaller now, the men having had second helpings, there was not much meat left. With another glance at Damek, Legolas made his way over to stand next to Kulin. Looking back and forth between the meat and the man who had passed it out, Legolas held out his hand and quietly ask, "Tare, seas." (more, please)
Kulin looked up at the sound of the small voice, startled to see the young elf standing in front of him. He glared at the elf, having no clue what the child wanted, he turned back to his meal.
Legolas, thinking that the man perhaps hadn't heard him, repeated his request, a bit louder this time.
"Tare seas. Tare aes, seas." (more please. More meat please)
Kulin growled at the youngster. Couldn't he eat in peace? He didn't want to hear the babble of this filth to ruin his meal.
"Speak normal talk! I don't want to hear your devil speech!" Kulin then raised his hand and daftly back-handed the young elf, sending him sprawling.
Legolas let out a muted cry as he fell, rolling away from the fire. He clutched his cheek where a bruise was already forming from the vicious backhand. Damek stood suddenly and towered over the other man.
"Kulin! You have no right to touch him! He was simply asking for more food. Do not blame the loss of your sons on a child to young to fight back. You will take watch tonight, three shifts. Perhaps you can focus your anger on keeping the camp safe." Leaving the sputtering man behind, Damek carefully picked up the young elf and carried him over to his bedroll. Legolas sniffled, trying to suppress the sobs of fear as he clutched tightly to Damek's tunic. He didn't understand what had just happened or why he had been struck. He buried his face into Damek's shoulder, wanting protection.
Damek reached the place where he had set up their bedrolls and gently set Legolas down, sitting beside him. As soon as Damek was settled, Legolas crawled into his lap, seeking comfort, a few silvery tears still trailing down his cheeks.
"It's alright Meaglin, he won't hurt you again. You're safe now." Damek gently stroked the young elf's hair, rocking him back and forth comfortingly. Legolas sniffled, babbling in elvish as he hiccupped though his sobs. Damek caught only a few words that he recognized, mainly being Ada and Nana.
Probably his parents. Well, he will be over that soon enough. Once he meets Nadezda and the boys, he'll soon forget about those left back in the forest. He'll love having older brother to teach him...show him things...
As Damek's mind wandered to the future, Legolas fell asleep in his arms, snuggled close to the warm body.
Nervous snorts and shifting of feet awoke Legolas the next morning. Sometime in the night Damek had shifted him to his own bedroll and now he looked about to see what exactly had caused him to wake up. The horses, tethered at the edge of the small camp were milling about nervously. Silently, Legolas got up and padded over to where Damek's stallion stood. The great beast was known for his temper dislike of strangers, but he calmly lowered his head into the young elf's hands. Legolas could tell that something was upsetting the horses, but he was unable to tell what.
Suddenly all the horses became very still, their eyes focused to the south east. Interested in what might have caused their sudden behavior, Legolas moved so that he stood on the stallion's left side. Reaching up, he tapped the great beast's shoulder and waited as the stallion bent down. Legolas was not surprised at all that the stallion knew such a trick, all elven horses did, but he did not ponder on how such a horse came into the hands of men. Climbing onto the stallion's back, Legolas now had a much higher vintage point in which to see what had caught the horses' attention. Focusing his eyes south west, Legolas's eyes widened at what he saw. A rather large band of orcs were making their way north, towards the camp. Being so young, he couldn't tell how far away they were, but he knew why the horses had suddenly changed. The wind had shifted directions, now blowing strongly out of the south, carrying with it the ever so subtle hint of orc. The human nose probably wouldn't pick up on it, but the horses could smell them clearly, and disliked it as much as if the foul creatures were standing next to them. Legolas climbed down off the stallion's back and ran over to where Damek was still sleeping, careful to avoid the rest of the sleeping men.
"Da! Da! Túv-Glam! Túv-Glam!" Legolas shook Damek's shoulder as he tried to rouse the sleeping man.
"Megalin?..." Damek was slow to rouse from his deep sleep. Blinking the sleep from his eyes he looked up into the young elf's eyes. "Megalin, what's wrong?" He sat up, hearing urgency in his voice. The elf was clearly scared, as his eyes were big and round.
"Túv-Glam Da, Túv-Glam." This time it was more urgent, as Leglolas took Damek's hand and pulled him off in the direction of the horses.
Damek quickly pulled on his boots and followed his foster son through the sleeping camp to where the horses were tethered. The horses shifted at Damek's approach, but still kept their focus on the south west. They were shuffling their feet nervously, but other than that, Damek couldn't see anything wrong.
"What's this all about Megalin? The horses are fine."
Damek hadn't really been paying attention, his eyes skimming over his sleeping men, but when his stallion knelt down to allow the small boy to climb onto his back Damek's jaw dropped. He had acquired the stallion a few years ago on a raid against the elves when he was but a colt. Damek knew that the elves taught their horses many different tricks, but this was one that he never expected, especially from his usually hard to manage stallion.
"Túv-Glam! Da!"
The small voice brought him back to the present as he glanced up at the young elf, now standing easily on the stallion's wide back. He was easily over six feet off the ground, Damek's eyes level with ten small pink toes. He looked to the direction that Megalin was pointing, unable to see anything.
Damek looked closer and was able to see a small cloud of dust rising in the distance. Glancing back up at the young elf that stood so confidently on his stallions back, Damek moved around the horses for a better view. As he focused on just where the cloud of dust was coming from, he was able to make out a black mass moving in the camps direction.
"Danm it!"
Quickly Damek grabbed Legolas and hurried over to where their bedrolls were.
"Megalin, can you roll these up and take them over to the horses?" He had shown him how to do such a task earlier in the trip, hoping now that the youngster would comply.
A bit scared as to the sudden change in Damek's mood, Legolas nodded his head slowly, looking at him with wide eyes. When Damek gave him an encouraging smile, he then began to set to work, rolling up the blankets and padding as he had been shown.
Damek hurried about the camp, quickly rousing the sleeping men. The central fire was doused and things were quickly re-packed onto horses. The men were silent, though unsure as to the quick change of plans; they hurried to do their leader's bidding. In no time there was little evidence that fifteen men had camped there.
Legolas had carried the tightly rolled bedrolls over to where the horses were now being hastily saddled. He set the rolls down near Damek's stallion, noticing that every other man in the group gave the black beast a wide birth, and with good reason. Ears flat against his head, the stallion lashed out at anyone who came too close. Clucking to get the stallion's attention, Legolas touched his shoulder, wanting to be able to see what was going on. Obediently, the stallion knelt down, allowing the elf to scramble onto his back. Once the stallion had settled again, Legolas stood on his broad back, much like he had done moments before, looking for Damek.
Satisfied that they would be leaving soon, Damek left Mirko in charge of packing up the camp. He strode over to where his stallion, Ilya, was tied, smiling at the sight of his foster son standing on the horse's back. Quickly he picked up his saddle and bridle, brining them over and setting them down next to the bedrolls.
Legolas clapped his hands happily at the sight of Damek and quickly moved so that he was sitting across the horse's withers, a large smile across his face.
"Well done Megalin, now come down so we can get Ilya ready to leave." He lifted the young elf down, setting him beside the bedrolls. Picking up the saddle, Damek, quickly saddled the black stallion, accepting the bridle from Legolas, he lifted the small elf onto Ilya's back, handing him the two bedrolls.
As Damek bridled Ilya, Legolas quickly tied the bedrolls to the back of the saddle. Soon they were ready to ride out. Damek swung up into the saddle, behind Legolas, and urged Ilya out to the front of the group.
"A party of Uruk-hai is making their way across the plains, headed in this direction. We need to reach the village and warn them of their coming. The Gods only know what they want now." Damek addressed the small group, though his last comment was more to himself than to his fellows. Without another word, Ilya spun quickly on his heels and the small band of men mad their way quickly across the planes, heading North West into the foothills of the Iron Mountains.
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Chapter notes: ((Ok, so Legolas appears to be somewhere around three... still a toddler, but walking and knows how to talk))
