Building Ithilien - Special Edition [Legolas]

I Make a Grand Entrance

Lothlorien, home of the Galadhrim. This particular story begins there, in the dim of the evening, as I crossed the edge of the great forest, fair and feared. The canopies were green and golden; the trees, mighty and deep.

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

For this young guard obviously recognized his incoming guest. Being one of the Nine Walkers, a member of the Fellowship, cultivates your reputation. Once I could count on being fairly anonymous—even as the Elvenking's son—but apparently going on a mission to save the world can put a real damper on one's ability to fade into the background.

I answered his call sure and merrily. My heart was light from travel, and the sight of the great trees stirred my spirit. The young guard's obvious excitement at having been the one to greet me was contagious.

"It is a glad day when my duties lead me to your fair land," I answered and gave him a solemn elven salute.

A small grin tugged at the corners of the guard's mouth. "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 me.

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

Walking through the woods of the Galadhrim felt like coming home; my eyes drifted among the mallorn trees, enjoying their beauty and ancient grace. Too soon the guard's voice interrupted my quiet thoughts.

"I have heard the captain of the guards speak of you. He said you were one of the Nine Walkers and very skilled with the bow," the guard said and eyed me 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," I 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 said and added with a chuckle, "for Haldir is my uncle. My name is Farothin." He paused for a moment and glanced at me as we 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."