The Silvan (Lord of the Rings-Legolas)[Wattys2016]

Chapter 22: Part III - To Imladris, and the Truth

List of characters:

The Silvan / Legolas / Hwindohtar / Hwindo (The Whirling Warrior) - Legolas

Idhren / Idhreno / Idhrenohtar (The Wise Warrior)

Ram en' Ondo / Ram en' (Wall of Stone)

Lainion / Dimaethor / Dima (The Silent Warrior)

Carodel / Lindo / Lindohtar (The Bard Warrior)

Amareth - Legolas' aunt and Lassiel's sister

Lassiel - Legolas' mother, Amareth's sister

Erthoron - Village leader of Lland Galadh

Golloron - Spirit Herder of Lland Galadh

Thavron - Chief Forester of Lland Galadh

Lorthil - Village leader of Silvertree

Narosén - Spirit Herder of Silvertree

Prince Handir - second son of Thranduil

Prince Rinion - heir to the throne of Greenwood

Councillor Aradan - Chief Councillor to Thranduil and childhood friend

Commander General Celegon - Sindarin Lord, Captain of the Guard

Lieutenant Galadan - Sindarin lieutenant to Commander General Celegon

Silor - veteran Sindar warrior, aspiring Lieutenant

Chapter twenty-two: Who Am I?

Autumn sunlight filtered through the green leaves of a flet high above the forest floor, cradled in the arms of a mighty tree, a sentinel, Legolas knew.

Funny, how pain comes in different rhythms and tones and today, it was a slow, deep thud, the type that comes after a night of Silvan reverie.

Comfort too, came in grades, but this morning, there was none to be had. It was as if there were nothing below him, and yet the three points of pressure he could feel upon his body were - hard and unyielding, sticking into his skin painfully.

Raising his heavy head for a moment, he realised he lay draped over a set of intertwined branches, just above the area he was supposed to have slept. He vaguely remembered having climbed to see the autumn stars. It was there, that he had fallen asleep.

He wore only his leggings and one boot, for the other had dropped into the living quarters of the flet below. He had also managed to retain one vambrace, but the other hung from his wrist by its strings, swaying mockingly in the light morning breeze.

Turning his head, he winced as his hair tugged painfully and he realised it had all come undone, only to snag in the finer twigs and drying leaves.

He wanted to laugh, and then he wondered if it was his own sense of humour, or that of the sentinel.

He knew he would never be able to free himself on his own. He would have to call for help, but that was not going to happen, said Legolas to himself, for he would surely be the laughing stock of the village.

The night had been long and oh so memorable. He had become a warrior in every sense, and a master archer too. He turned his head as far as he could, smiling when the silver arm band came into view, sitting now upon his strong, naked bicep.

His smile soon disappeared though, when his scalp was jolted painfully and he yelped, and although he had not moved, his hair was now, mysteriously free, falling around him almost to the floor beneath. Smiling, he realised it was time to climb down.