The Sylvanus

by Oliver McBride

  Glorfindel approached Legolas then, extending a hand and placing it on his bear shoulder.

  "And still you hold back," he murmured so that only Legolas could hear.

  Legolas' eyes turned to the floor for a moment before returning to Glorfindel. "How could I not? I have no wish to defeat your master instructor before his troop."

  "And that is why you are so well loved, child. You have done well," said Glorfindel, holding back the words he had truly wanted to say, for now was not the time.

  While the master instructors spoke quietly amongst themselves, The Company slapped Legolas upon the back, congratulating him as they spoke and laughed and finally made him laugh with their antics. It meant so much to Legolas, this moment of recognition. It was not the first, but it was, perhaps, the one that meant most to him for now, this time, he had family. His brother looked on in pride and Glorfindel made no effort to hide his own joy. It was a special moment and it was all Legolas could do to check himself and stop his eyes from welling.

  He straightened abruptly as the master instructors approached him, their faces solemn and blank. Legolas' heart accelerated until it pounded in his ears, his eyes widening as he waited for them to speak.

  "Legolas Thranduilion. You have been granted the status of Master of Short Swords, according to Noldorin martial law. As Lord Elrond Eärendil is witness, with this we seal the token," said Dolgaden as he produced a silver band he placed below the one that already hugged Legolas' upper arm. Stepping back, the Noldo bowed reverently, to which Legolas answered with his own.

  "You are the best I have ever seen, child. I am honoured to know you," he said quietly, so that only Legolas and Glorfindel could hear him. A soft glance of silent understanding passed between Dolgaden and Glorfindel then, before the instructor turned, and left with a nod at his Commander.

  There was a prolonged silence, before a strong voice rang out around the glade.

  "Hwindohtar! Hwindohtar!" shouted Ram en Ondo, and then the Company as they raised their fists to the heaven in a mighty cheer. Only then did Legolas turn to Glorfindel, and envelope him in the most heart-felt embrace he had ever given. The Commander was slow to return it, surprised as he was by the effusive display from his young friend. Chuffed he was though, and so he hugged back, and then took the blond head between his hands.

  "Serve well, be honourable, be brave, and your name will go down in the annals of the greatest of elven warriors," he whispered fiercely. "And remember, you are my son in all but blood, Legolas, you are my son," he emphasised and then gave one last squeeze to the lovely face, turned abruptly upon his heels, and left, under the wise and knowing gaze of Elrond Peredhel.

  The weather had turned, and winter chill turned to early spring freshness. The land was still dormant, but there was an air of expectant joy floating just out of his reach, tickling his senses and setting his mouth to watering inexplicably.

  Soft footsteps caught his attention and he turned, only to see Elladan approach him with a nod and a smile.

  "May I?" he asked, unnecessarily.

  "Sit my friend. I did not see you yesterday."

  "I was busy, with something I must speak with you about."

  "Speak it," said Legolas, finally looking squarely at his friend.

  "I want to join The Company…" was all he said, his eyes steady and frank.

  After a moment of silence, Legolas spoke. "Have you spoken with your father?" he asked somewhat incredulously.

  "Oh yes," said Elladan, his tone a token of the long hours he had spent with his father the day before. "I told him of my plans to further my military experience and my knowledge of healing, told him I would like to pursue this idea, of warrior healers in the field and he was - most interested," he said, as if his father's reaction still surprised him.

  "Your father is well aware of the benefits of such a thing. It cannot be denied, even though it may take you away from him."

  "Yes, and that was the short of our conversation. I told him there was no better place for my military training than in the Greenwood, for you see far more battle than we do here, and where there is battle, there needs to be a healer. I would ride with you, be the healer for the Company. Learn all I can, document my experience and then perhaps, sometime in the future, create a special unit, one that would be just as much a part of any battalion as the warriors themselves."

  "That is wonderful, and you are most welcome to join us. I would have suggested it myself save that I never thought your father could dispense of you," he explained.

  "I know, Legolas. I would be the first that does not come from the forest, the first Noldo. Is that acceptable to your people?" he asked tentatively.

  Legolas' eyes sharpened on his friend and when he spoke, his voice was strong and determined. "My warriors are mine to choose, and I choose the best - race has nothing to do with it and if someone has a problem with that, we will take the flag of your noble Noldorin house and wave it under their stuffed up noses - what say you?" he asked with a sly smile.

  Elladan smirked. "That would be a spectacle," he said before looking to the floor for a moment and then back at his friend. "I am one of two lieutenants in The Company, but I would defer to Dimaethor in questions of command, so that I may concentrate on my physical studies."

  Legolas smiled. "That would work, yes. Now all I need to achieve is to get my own command," he giggled.

  "That is true," said Elladan. "But I am sure that after Glorfiindel's report that won't be a problem."

  "Perhaps not. It is me that believes I should not ascend so fast, that I should tutor, under someone like Tirioin, for example, and yet in order to do what I must, I need to command my own unit…"

  "Then there is no point in toiling any further on that point, Legolas. You have two lieutenants who have years in the field to help you should you require it. You will not be alone to take the important decisions."

  Legolas smiled and slapped Elladan upon the thigh. "Well glad I am to have you with us! I will tell the rest. Believe me by nightfall, you will have a new name!"

  Elladan smiled and nodded, and then added, almost as an afterthought. "I never thought this day would come, when my heart and mind recognise the true calling of my life. I never thought to feel that everything fell perfectly into place and that I would be content, that I would feel this sense of pride."

  Legolas rose to face him, and then placed a soft hand on his shoulder. "I know of what you speak," he said quietly with a soft smile. "I think you and I will be legendary friends," he added, and Elladan smiled, and then laughed for it was true. For the first time in his life he was excited, enthusiastic - he had a purpose and the means to fulfil it.

  Legolas walked slowly through the gardens as the sunlight slowly waned, trailing his hands over bushes and barks, feeling their mounting joy at soon being allowed to leave their protective buds and smile at the sun once more.

  However, he was distracted by the sound of two elves speaking not far away, and try as he might, he could not ignore their words.

  "Why? Tell me at least that."

  "I have been trying for ten years."

  "And you always fail - you always will unless your attitude changes."

  "Every time I fail I fail more clearly. It is a spiral I cannot rid myself of, my Lord."

  "Have you thought of why that is? Really thought?"

  There was silence, before the first elf spoke again.

  "Then I will tell you why you fail, Melven Hadorion. You are jealous, you look to others and seek to discredit them, rather than looking to yourself and improving. You look to others to explain your own shortcomings, rather than humbly accepting that you made a mistake. Legolas, I think, was the perfect example. You cannot stand him because he is what you want to be…"

  "No!" he said firmly, defensively, before controlling himself. "No, my Lord, it is not that. I cannot stand him, that is true, but it is because in him, I see my own incompetence… It is my lack of skill that angers me and leads me to lash ou
t at those who show it to me, by being what I am not."

  It was Glorfindel who remained silent then, just as Legolas moved into sight and both elves turned.

  "Forgive me," he said with a smile, "I had no intention of interrupting…" he added, but his eyes settled upon Melven. "I know what you did," he said quietly, watching as Melven blanched and Glorfindel scowled at Legolas.

  "What do you mean?" asked Glorfindel and Legolas turned to him.

  "Lindohtar told me. During the battle, Melven had a clear shot at an orc archer who had sighted me. He did not fire though, instead turning to shoot elsewhere. It was Lindo who took down the sniper, just in time it seems."

  "What!" roared Glorfiindel. "Melven, tell me he is wrong, that you did not do such a thing?" asked the commander in concern now.

  But Melven only looked to the floor and kept his silence.

  A long sigh from Glorfindel was followed by his tired words. "Melven, you know what I would say now…"

  "Glorfindel," interrupted Legolas, reaching out to gently touch his hand. "May I make a suggestion?"

  After a moment's though, Glorfindel nodded.

  "This spiral that Melven has fallen into… I understand what he says. Melven," he continued, touching the warrior's arm to draw his attention. "Melven, what of your family?"

  Melven's dark grey eyes stared back at Legolas and they were hollow, empty, and realisation hit Legolas even before the Noldorin warrior could speak.

  "There are none left, my Lord."

  "You are alone…"

  "Yes," he whispered.

  Turning to Glorfindel, there was a new resolve in the green eyes. "Glorfindel. Would you allow him to travel with Elladan and I, back to the Greenwood? Would you allow him to serve there?"

  "His offence is grave, Legolas. He endangered a fellow warrior's life. He should by all rights be expelled all together."

  "I know. But perhaps a second chance, in a different place, one last opportunity to shine…" said Legolas. There was a surety in his voice that puzzled Glorfindel, for Melven had done nothing but irk him, criticise him, snicker at him. Melven had taken every opportunity to discredit him, had even endangered his life and yet here Legolas was, advocating for him.

  "It goes against my better judgement," said Glorfindel. If something happened to you because of him it would be my responsibility, Legolas."

  "Not if I relieve you of it, Glorfindel."

  "You can't, you have no rank," said the commander.

  "Not yet, no. But if you were to include him in your escort back to the Greenwood… it is a two-week journey. The Company could work with him, decide whether or not he is up to the challenge, and if he is not, then he would simply ride back with you and that would be the end of it.

  Glorfindel was quiet for a moment but he turned back to Legolas and with a silent apology in his eyes, he said, "No. I cannot allow it," and with one last look of disappointment at Melven, he strode away.

  There was an awkward silence between Melven and Legolas, for they had only ever crossed words of disdain and always in the company of others. Now they were alone, and in the wake of such a transcendental moment for the Noldorin warrior, neither seemed to know what to say.

  Legolas turned to leave but stopped in his tracks when Melven finally spoke.

  "I am sorry."

  Legolas regarded him then, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

  "I know," he said in defeat. "But it is too late. Glorfindel has made his decision."

  "Did you mean it?" he asked, puzzled it seemed at Legolas' offer to take Melven back to the Greenwood.

  "Did I mean what?" he asked.

  "That I could ride with you, with the Company. It would be my last chance to prove my worth, show him I can command a patrol."

  "I meant it, but you heard the commander."

  "I heard him," he said softly, but then his face changed from one of abject misery to hard resolve and perhaps, sudden realisation. "I have been a fool," he said. "I have judged you ill and I am sorry for that."

  "You are forgiven, Melven, truly, but there is nothing more I can do for you."

  "Yes, yes there is!" he said urgently. "I will speak with Commander Glorfindel again tomorrow. I will convince him to let me go on the escort."

  Legolas' face showed his skepticism all too clearly. "I doubt he will change his mind, but try if you will and if he does accept," he turned meaningfully to Melven, "then you will answer to The Company, as well as to your Commander for you have much to prove to him, but you have more to prove to us if you are to join us."

  "The spark of a challenge flared behind the grey, Noldorin eyes and Melven allowed a smile to ghost over his lips.

  "Until tomorrow then?"

  "Until tomorrow, Melven. I wish you luck," said Legolas as he turned to leave. Hollow words, he mused, for Glorfindel would not allow it, he was sure of it.

  His muscles screamed in agony and if they could talk, they would be hammering at his common sense to stop and let them rest, for he had pushed them far past their limits.

  The spear was marginally longer than his own body and was not particularly heavy, yet it required its wielder to hold it aloft for much of the time he was fighting, and this was calling on his lesser used muscles.

  "Swivel! Turn! Overhead! Swipe back! Again! Again! Again!"

  Sweat poured off his naked torso as Legolas toiled under the early spring sun, his two silver bands glinting proudly as the muscle below flexed and bulged as he worked through the positions.

  "Forward lunge, tuck it back, back under! Again! again! again!" shouted the instructor ruthlessly as he circled his trainee, checking his posture here and there, driving him hard.

  "Both hands, forward attack, pivot! pivot!" No! Again!"

  Elrond tutted at his spear master's methods, shaking his head. "He is going to need a good massage tomorrow! he laughed somewhat bleakly. "Your instructor is harsh," he said.

  Glorfindel nodded but did not turn to face him for he could not drag his eyes away from Legolas, and neither could the rest of the elves that had stopped to watch the strange spectacle, for no one wielded spears any more - or so they had thought.

  "That is my fault. I told him to do it," he said distractedly."

  "He's good," murmured Elrond, to which Mithrandir added, "he's very good."

  Glorfindel simply smiled sparingly as he continued to watch and listen.

  "Side twist then lunge - faster, faster, again!"

  There was a thud as Legolas' body hit the ground in a tangled heap.

  "Up! Get up! Do it again!"

  With a mighty groan of exertion, Legolas ran and then side twisted as he brought the spear round and ended in a low lunge, the tip of his spear just below his instructor's neck.

  There was stunned silence for a moment, and then one, single word.

  "Good."

  A wave of soft chuckles rippled through the crowds and the instructor nodded, to which Legolas relaxed, and then fell to his knees, his chest heaving, mouth as dry as the sands of Mount Doom.

  "Well done," said Rhrawthir as he handed Legolas a cup of fresh water. He took it with both hands and poured it down his parched throat, drinking greedily until it was all gone and he handed it back with a silent plea for more. Rhrawthir laughed and then left for more, while the rest of The Company hauled him to his feet.

  "You are a mess," said Elladan as they started back to the house, making the rest of them giggle at the understatement.

  "Elladan," panted Legolas, his voice stilted as he struggled for air. "You, are well on the way - to earning - your warrior name…" he trailed off.

  Idhrenohtar stopped for a moment before looking at Legolas disbelievingly and then at Elladan. "You are joining us? Elladan is joining The Company?" he asked excitedly.

  It was Legolas who smiled now, and then nodded enthusiastically. "He has been given leave, for now at least," he said and with that, they were all patting the Noldo upon the back, cheering and ruffling his head.


  "We have a Noldo in our midst, and a healer at that!" said Lindohtar.

  "Aye. Elladan here has much to tell us of his projects. Perhaps tonight, after dinner, we could meet in the gardens? It has been long since we shared cups together."

  They all cheered once more, the promise of some well-earned rest and relaxation lending an extra bounce to their step, except for Legolas, whose feet dragged more and more as they approached the house. The only real question was, would he still be awake for dessert?

  Elladan could not remember the last time his stomach fluttered in excitement, could not remember his mind racing forward like this, enumerating the things he would do, how he would do them. This enthusiasm had taken a firm hold of him and now he could not stop. Indeed his father had been looking at him from the corner of his eye for the entire time during dinner, as had Elrohir, and even now, in the Hall of Fire, as bards strummed their lyres and flutists sang out their sweet melodies, the shrewd grey eyes watched.

  Glorfindel, as observant as ever, broke the comfortable silence with a comment he knew would draw them all in, even his father, who now looked expectantly at the Commander, and as he did so, Elladan could feel the almost tangible weight lift from his chest and he blew out a subtle breath in relief.

  "Melven came to me today, Legolas," began Glorfindel, sipping on his wine and giving the Silvan a sideways glance before continuing.

  Sure enough, Legolas was sitting forward. "Oh?," he said somewhat lamely, and Elladan snorted in mirth.

  "Legolas, you are a terrible fibber. You must learn to hide that," he gestured to his face - "even I can tell you already knew!"

  Legolas smiled lopsidedly and Glorfindel gave a somewhat sinister grin.

  "Well, not exactly," began Legolas ruefully. "He just - just mentioned that he might - try to change your mind…" said Legolas, flapping his arms around himself somewhat chaotically.