Building Ithilien [Legolas] LOTR

Arrival at Lothlorien

In the dim of the evening, two shadowed figures approached one another on the edge of a great forest, fair and feared. The canopies were green and golden; the trees, mighty and deep. This was Lothlorien, home of the Galadhrim.

A guard moved silently from the cover of the woods and addressed the visitor, with a voice both fair and lilting: "Hail, son of Thranduil. You have long kept your distance from our borders."

For this young guard recognized the incoming guest. It was Legolas Greenleaf, one of the Nine Walkers, a member of the Fellowship. He had passed through the Golden Wood once before, during the War of the Ring, and now he returned. Only for what purpose, the guard standing watch could not fathom.

Legolas answered his call sure and merrily. His heart was light from travel and the sight of these great trees stirred his spirit. The young guard's obvious excitement at having been the one to greet him was contagious.

"I have been much occupied in Eryn Lasgalen, but now my duties necessitate my travel to your fair land," Legolas answered him and gave him a solemn elven salute that secretly thrilled the guard to no end.

He studied Legolas for a moment, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. As much as he tried to adopt a dignified expression, his smile he could not suppress. "Will you be long with us?" he asked eagerly and swung down from his post on a low hanging tree branch and landed in front of the elven prince.

"I cannot say for sure," said Legolas. "The Lady Galadriel has beckoned me, and I cannot help but answer her call." No one, not even elven princes, ignored summons from Lady Galadriel, and even in his reticence to speak of it with the guard, Legolas knew what this meeting would entail. He had not endured the worst argument with his father in two centuries for a whim. He meant to leave The Woodland Realm behind for the woods of Ithilien in Gondor and had asked for his father's blessing in this venture. But in the end, even King Thranduil would not deny the Lady Galadriel. She ruled Lothlorien from Caras Galadhon. She was ancient and wise, and above all things, a good and kindly ruler. Many of the elves speculated that she would be soon to leave these shores now that Sauron the Great Deceiver had been thrown down.

As Legolas walked through the forest, his eyes drifted among the mallorn trees, enjoying their beauty and ancient grace. His quiet thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the guard who had met him at the forest's edge.

"I have heard the captain of the guards speak of you. He said that you were one of the Nine Walkers and very skilled with the bow," the guard said and eyed Legolas with a look bordering on near reverence. He chattered on, "I should very much like to see your skills, if Haldir spoke so well of you. For he is one of the greatest among the Galadhrim in that field."

"Yes," Legolas smiled, "Haldir is not one to be overly generous with praise. That is a rare compliment from him."

The young guard nodded his head. "I would know about that more than you think," he added, "for I am Farothin, and Haldir is my uncle." He paused for a moment and glanced at Legolas as they walked toward the center of the forest. "I know this is bold of me to say, but I would dearly love to see you and my uncle compete in a contest of archery."

Legolas laughed out loud. "I? Compete against Haldir in a contest of arrows? Mark me, Farothin, when I say that I am honored, but I do not crave embarrassment, nor would I seek it."

"My lord," Farothin protested, "I meant no jest. It would surely be a diversion welcome among the Galadhrim."

"Perhaps, Farothin, if my duty to the Lady does not interfere, we will have our little game of arrows. Haldir's profession makes him an expert and a worthy opponent in any game. I should dearly love to beat him." Legolas said, winking at Farothin.