|A Good Day For A Story
Author: LegolasLover2003 PM
Oneshot. Legolas tells a six year old Estel about Hurin. Cute story written for May's Teitho contest 2007.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Legolas & Aragorn - Words: 4,464 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 9 - Published: 11-25-07 - Status: Complete - id: 3913322
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: "A Good Day For A Story"
Author: LegolasLover2003 aka Ashley
Category: Book - "Lord of the Rings"
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to "The Lord of the Rings". I just adore it to pieces! Also, I don't own rights to J.R.R. Tolkien's "Children of Hurin" or "The Silmarillion". I just like to hear Legolas read it out loud... WOOT!
Author's Note: This story was written for the May 2007 challenge in the Teitho Fanfiction Contest. It did not, however, place in the contest.
A Good Day For A Story
Legolas sighed, staring at the six year old boy who was currently gazing out of the Rivendell library's grand window.
It was snowing, the small frozen drops of ice clinging to the window and making patterns which the child was absently tracing with one finger.
"Estel?" standing, Legolas closed the book he had been reading from.
The prince crossed the library, his bare feet making not a sound on the rug covered hardwood flooring. When he was standing directly behind the youth, he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"You should be listening to your studies." The Elf spoke softly.
Jumping slightly, grey eyes turned to look up into a blue gaze. "I'm sorry… it's just so boring…" Estel whined.
One of the Elf's eyebrows arched. "Boring?" Legolas asked. "What could possibly be boring about learning of a great battle against Morgoth?"
Estel sighed. "It's boring because it's all about Elves."
This was hardly the response which Legolas had expected. Carefully, he lifted the boy into his arms.
"Hey! Legolas, put me down!" the child replied.
Smiling, the Elf shook his head, "I am going to teach you a lesson about history." He said, setting the boy down in front of the fireplace. "And I shall make sure you are listening this time. No gazing out the window, understand?"
Estel crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine… but I don't see why I have to learn all these things about Elves anyway." He pouted.
"Well, what if I told you the same story, but from the side of the humans who were there, hmm?" Legolas asked, moving over to one of the bookshelves and taking down a dusty volume.
The book was entitled,'The Children of Húrin'.
Legolas came to sit down beside the boy, opening the book and allowing Estel to look at the artwork inside. "Since you are not an Elf, and since you are obviously not interested in our history as much as Lord Elrond has led me to believe… I shall teach you this story instead."
Legolas nodded, "Aye. In fact, I doubt this book has been read for quite a number of years." The Elf smiled. "I remember reading it when I would visit Imladris as an Elfling, for my father has never believed in keeping the records and histories of men."
"But why?" the boy replied, watching his Elven friend closely.
The prince shrugged in response. "I know not, but I fear my father has never truly been a friend to humans."
"He doesn't like me?"
Legolas laughed, "That is because he does not know you, tithen pen. Now… may I start the story?"
With an eager nod, Estel's gaze settled on the book as he sat in Legolas' lap.
Then Fingon looked out from the walls of Eithel Sirion, and his host was arrayed in the valleys and woods upon the east of Ered Wethrin, well hid from the eyes of the Enemy; but he knew that it was very great. For there all the Noldor of Hithlum were assembled, and to them were gathered many Elves of the Falas and of Nargothrond; and he had great strength of Men. Upon the right were stationed the host of Dor-lómin and all the valour of Húrin and Huor his brother, and to them had come Haldir of Brethil, their kinsman, with many men of the woods.
Then Fingon looked east and his elven-sight saw far off a dust and the glint of steel like stars in a mist, and he knew that Maedhros had set forth; and he rejoiced. Then he looked towards Thangorodrim, and there was a dark cloud about it and a black smoke went up; and he knew that the wrath of Morgoth was kindled and that their challenge would be accepted, and a shadow of doubt fell upon his heart. But at that moment a cry went up, passing on the wind from the south from vale to vale, and Elves and Men lifted up their voices in wonder and joy. For un-summoned and un-looked for Turgon had opened the leaguer of Gondolin, and was come with an army, ten thousand strong, with bright mail and long swords and spears like a forest. Then when Fingon heard afar the great trumpet of Turgon, the shadow passed and his heart was uplifted, and he shouted aloud: 'Utúlie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalië ar Atanatarni, utúlie'n aurë! The day has come! Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!' And all those who heard his great voice echo in the hills answered crying: 'Auta I lómë! The night is passing!'.
Legolas nodded, "In those days, most did. Men and Elves were close long ago, and they fought side by side."
"But Men don't even know Elves exist anymore… at least… that's what El and Ro told me."
Smiling, the blond archer nodded once more. "Indeed, the twins are right. There are many Men in this world, Estel, and many think we have passed from thought and memory. Others believe we hide in our forests, caring little for their affairs, which is quite wrong, I assure you."
Estel laughed, "I know. Ada told me that there were some Men who came to Rivendell not long after I was born. They asked for his help."
"His counsel no doubt." Legolas replied, "Lord Elrond is wise beyond his years, Estel. You should remember that."
A pout found its way to the boy's expression. "But he always makes me learn boring things…"
"And do you find this boring?"
Estel shook his head. "Nuh uh. I like this story, Legolas." He smiled. "It has Men in it."
Then the hearts of the Noldor grew hot, and their captains wished to assail their foes on the plain, but Fingon spoke against this.
'Beware of the guile of Morgoth, lords!' he said. 'Ever his strength is more than it seems, and his purpose other than he reveals. Do not reveal your own strength, but let the enemy spend his first in assault on the hills.' For it was the design of the kings that Maedhros should march openly over the Anfauglith with all his strength, of Elves and of Men and of Dwarves; and when he had drawn forth, as he hoped, the main armies of Morgoth in answer, then Fingon should come on from the West, and so the might of Morgoth should be taken as between hammer and anvil and be broken to pieces; and the signal for this was to be the firing of a great beacon in Dorthonion.
But the Captain of Morgoth in the west had been commanded to draw out Fingon from his hills by whatever means he could. He marched on, therefore, until the front of his battle was drawn up before the stream of Sirion, from the walls of the Barad Eithel to the Fen of Serech; and the outposts of Fingdon could see the eyes of their enemies. But there was no answer to his challenge, and the taunts of his Orcs faltered as they looked upon the silent walls and the hidden threat of the hills.
The prince smiled. "It shall, but you must have patience, tithen pen. You must know the might and terror of Morgoth's armies before you can appreciate the battle which the Men of that age fought."
By ill chance at that point in the outposts stood Gwindor son of Guilin with many folk of Nargothrond; and indeed he had marched to war with such strength as he could gather because of his grief for the taking of his brother. Now his wrath was like a flame, and he leapt forth upon horse-back, and many riders with him, and they pursued the heralds of Angband and slew them; and all the folk of Nargothrond followed after, and they drove on deep into the ranks of Angband. And seeing this the host of the Noldor was set on fire, and Fingon put on his white helm, and sounded his trumpets, and all his host leapt forth from the hills in sudden onslaught.
The light of the drawing of the swords of the Noldor was like a fire in a field of reeds; and so fell and swift was their onset that almost the designs of Morgoth went astray. Before the decoying army that he had sent west could be strengthened it was swept away and destroyed, and the banners of Fingon passed over the Anfauglith and were raised before the walls of Angband.
Ever in the forefront of that battle went Gwindor and the folk of Nargothrond, and even now they could not be restrained; and they burst through the outer gates and slew the guards within the very courts of Angband; and Morgoth trembled upon his deep throne, hearing them beat upon his doors. But Gwindor was trapped there and taken alive and his folk slain; for Fingon could not come to his aid. By many secret doors in Thangorodim Morgoth let forth his main strength that he had held in waiting, and Fingon was beaten back with great loss from the walls of Angband.
Then in the plain of the Anfauglith, on the fourth day of the war, there began the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, all the sorrow of which no tale can contain. Of all that befall in the eastward battle: of the routing of Glaurung the Dragon by the Dwarves of Belegost; of the treachery of the Easterlings and the overthrow of the host of Maedhros and the flight of the sons of Fëanor, no more is here said. In the west the host of Fingon retreated over the sands, and there fell Haldir son of Halmir and most of the Men of Brethil. But on the fifth day as night fell, and they were still far from Ered Wethrin, the armies of Angband surrounded the army of Fingon, and they fought until day, pressed ever closer. In the morning came hope, for the horns of Turgon were heard, as he marched up with the main host of Gondolin; for Turgon had been stationed southward guarding the passes of Sirion, and he had restrained most of his folk from the rash onslaught. Now he hastened to the aid of his brother; and the Noldor of Gondolin were strong and their ranks shone like a river of steel in the sun, for the sword and harness of the least of the warriors of Turgon was worth more than the ransom of any king among Men.
"How come…" the boy began quietly, "How come the Men are fighting for Fingon?"
Legolas shook his head slightly. "In those days, Estel, Men and Elves fought side by side, as they did in the Last Alliance as well. Húrin was a great friend of Fingon, and he regarded the Elves with respect, especially the Elven Lords of old."
"So…" Estel sighed as he tried to figure out just how to ask the question. "When I grow up, I'll be like Húrin and you Fingon, Legolas? Will I be a great friend to you?"
The prince smiled, "One day, Estel… One day…"
But the boy's lips had been pressed into a grim line of determination. "No. And… I don't want you to be Fingon anymore, Legolas…" Estel explained.
The prince laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. "Very well then. But do you still wish to be Húrin?"
"Of course! He's a warrior!" the boy replied, smiling once more.
Legolas shook his head, "Then I shall continue on, tithen pen."
'Not long now can Gondolin remain hidden, and being discovered it must fall,' said Turgon.
'Yet if it stands only a little while," said Huor, 'then out of your house shall come the hope of Elves and Men. This I say to you, lord, with the eyes of death: though we part here for ever, and I shall not look on your white walls again, from you and from me a new star shall arise. Farewell!'
Maeglin, Turgon's sister-son, who stood by, heard these words and did not forget them.
Then Turgon took the counsel of Húrin and Huor, and he gave orders that his host should begin a retreat into the passes of Sirion; and his captains Ecthelion and Glorfindel guarded the flanks to right and left so that none of the enemy should pass them by, for the only road in that region was narrow and ran near the west bank of the growing stream of Sirion. But the Men of Dor-lómin held the rearguard, as Húrin and Huor desired; for they did not wish in their hearts to escape from the Northlands; and if they could not win back to their homes, there they would stand to the end. So it was that Turgon fought his way southward, until coming behind the guard of Húrin and Huor, he passed down Sirion and escaped; and he vanished into the mountains and was hidden from the eyes of Morgoth. But the brothers drew the remnant of the mighty men of the House of Hador about them, and foot by foot they withdrew, until they came behind the Fen of Serech, and had the stream of Rivil before them. There they stood and gave way no more.
At this, Legolas could not contain his laughter, for he had anticipated the child's reaction to that name. "The same, Estel."
"But… but Glorfindel lives here, Legolas. How could he have fought against Morgoth?"
The prince shook his head, "Have you never heard the tale of the Fall of Gondolin, tithen pen?"
Estel sighed, "I… I was supposed to study that last week… but I kind of…"
"You fell asleep, did you not?" Legolas asked, his blue eyes narrowing, "You should have stayed awake for such a tale, Estel. For it tells more about Glorfindel."
The boy shied away at the Elf's expression, turning around and facing the book once more. "Will you tell it to me?"
Nodding, Legolas' soft and kind expression returned. "Of course, Estel. But not today. It can be your lesson for tomorrow, agreed?"
"Agreed!" the boy laughed, "Oh, but what happens to Húrin, Legolas?"
"Well… perhaps we should find out, hmm?"
Last of all Húrin stood alone. Then he cast aside his shield, and seized the axe of an orc-captain and wielded it two-handed; and it is sung that the axe smoked in the black blood of the troll-guard of Gothmog until it withered, and each time that he slew Húrin cried aloud: 'Aure entuluva! Day shall come again!' Seventy times he uttered that cry; but they took him at last alive, by the command of Morgoth, who thought thus to do him more evil than by death. Therefore the Orcs grappled Húrin with their hands, which clung to him still, though he hewed off their arms; and ever their numbers were renewed, till he fell buried beneath them. Then Gothmog bound him and dragged him to Angband with mockery.
Thus ended the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, as the Sun went down beyond the Sea. Night fell in Hithlum, and there came a great storm of wind out of the West.
Great was the triumph of Morgoth, though all the purposes of his malice were not yet accomplished. One thought troubled him deeply and marred his victory with unquiet: Turgon had escaped his net, of all his foes the one whom he had most desired to take or destroy. For Turgon of the great House of Fingolfin was now by right King of all the Noldor; and Morgoth feared and hated the House of Fingolfin, because they had scorned him in Valinor and had the friendship of Ulmo his foe; and because of the wounds that Fingolfin gave him in battle. And most of all Morgoth feared Turgon, for of old in Valinor his eye had lighted on him, and whenever he drew near a dark shadow had fallen on his spirit, foreboding that in some time that yet lay hidden in doom, from Turgon ruin should come to him.
The archer smiled sadly, "He became a captive of Morgoth, obviously."
Sighing, the boy nodded, "I know that… but what happened AFTER?" and suddenly the child launched into a fury of questions. "Did he ever see Turgon again? Did he escape Morgoth? Did he get blinded like… like Gelmir? Did he get his arms and legs cut off? Or his head cut off?"
Legolas placed a hand on Estel's head. "Sidh, tithen pen. I can not continue the story right now."
"Why not?" Estel pouted.
"Because," came a voice from the doorway. "It is time for dinner."
Looking up, both Elf and boy saw Elladan standing there. A few moments later, Elrohir joined him.
"Come on, Legolas, Estel. We are all waiting for you to start dinner."
Standing, the boy rushed toward the Elven twins, jumping into Elladan's arms. "Guess what!"
Humoring the child, Elladan spoke. "Legolas promised he would take you off our hands for good?"
Frowning, Estel shook his head. "Not funny, El… But," the boy immediately brightened. "But he told me a story about Men!"
Both twins looked to Legolas, who was replacing the book on one of the library's many shelves.
"A story of Men, Legolas? Where did you learn such a thing?" Elrohir asked, obviously intrigued.
Elladan nodded, "Last I heard, your father kept no tales of Men on hand."
The prince smiled, coming to stand next to the brothers. "From this library of course." He ruffled Estel's brown hair once more. "I read him the story of the Niraneth Arnoediad, with focus on Húrin." His blue eyes found Estel's grey gaze. "By the way, tithen pen… do you still wish to be Húrin?"
Estel shook his head. "No… I don't think it would be very fun to be caught by Morgoth."
The twins began to laugh.
"Indeed it would not." Elladan replied.
Elrohir glanced to Legolas, "And who were you going to be, oh mighty prince?"
Legolas sighed, "Apparently I was supposed to be Fingon… until he died."
"Ouch…" the twins said in unison before smiling to their little brother.
"Remind me never to read you a story again." Elladan spoke.
Elrohir nodded, "Right. Otherwise, we might end up as Túrin… or worse."
At this, Estel looked to the Elves in confusion. "Who's Túrin?"