The Song of the North

It’s been years since the battle for the Lonely Mountain; but, sometimes it feels like it’s only been months or even days since the young prince left his father and his kingdom behind. Legolas would always miss his father, Tauriel and his friends in the guard. But he needed to leave. It had been long past due that he sees the world for himself. Living in his father’s kingdom, with no freedom had forced him to feel claustrophobic. He needed his space, and he needed to be alone.

So he traveled north, having taken the advice of his father to find the dunedine. He spent several decades with the men of the north. And eventually found the one named Elessar or Aragorn as he had come to find out. The young dunedine king and the elvish prince had very quickly become good friends. For decades they traveled the north and for a time, Legolas could not think of anything else that he’d rather be doing. The life of a ranger was often dirty work, but the freedom that came with it was what the prince loved.

Life with the race of men was very different from his home with his elvish kin. The men of the north loved their stories of war, plenty and pleasures. They could talk for hours and hours to great lengths about old legends of fallen heroes, great triumphs and terrible beasts. Often, Legolas found the stories would change with each telling.

Among the dunedine rangers there were a few women. One in particular, Legolas had found a dear friendship with. Her name was Bellona; a muscular woman with great skill in using spears, swords and shields. She looked like any ranger should; dressed in worn-in comfortable travel clothes, black in color or otherwise dark greens. The only difference that so set her aside from her people came from her almost steel like blonde hair. She was very much a free spirit, but when provoked she was as deadly as any of her warrior brothers. More times than naught, Legolas had found himself on par with the stocky woman.

It was one night, when the snow of Rhîw was only just beginning to fall; Bellona began to tell Legolas a story about an ancient Elvish kingdom that had once thrived in this desolate northern land. Deep in the mountains of Ered Mithrin a race of Sindarin and Silvan elves made their home, in a kingdom that can only be found by those who know where it is. Surrounded by such a remote climate, they had found a sanctuary in a valley between the two highest peaks in the north.

Bellona had explained to the young prince, that her grandmother had once been a member of this secluded kingdom; she was a Sindarin elf who had fallen in love with a dunedine ranger that had eventually sailed to the Undying lands with her kin. It was then that Legolas discovered that Bellona was nearing 200 years old, though she hardly looked older than Aragorn in his forties.

Some years later Aragorn had come to the decision that he wanted to return to Imlardis to visit Lord Elrond, and to stay with him, as he had at another time protected his mother and himself. Legolas had opted to stay in the north a while longer; so he said his goodbye to his friend, and told himself that he would no doubt see him again.

For the next decade Legolas began to hear stories of a white haired woman spotted in the forests of the north. Some of the rangers thought this to be a silly superstition, others thought her to be a ghost or some unnatural force meant to encroach upon what little they had left of their race. Bellona was one of the few that thought something entirely different.

“She is the only living Princess, once meant to be the Queen of my grandmother’s people. Without her people, her kingdom, and her family; she now wanders as nothing more than a reminder of what was lost and a ghost of what once was.”

The thought was chilling; but something deep inside Legolas was pulling him north. The Elvish kingdoms of Imlardis, Lothlorien and Mirkwood are all that are left of his kind. For centuries, his people have slowly been returning to the Undying Lands; and with them, their history.

Since the war for the Lonely Mountain; when he and Tauriel had raced to the terrible fortress of Mount Gundabad, his mind had lingered on the thought of his mother. What little memory of her, had begun to haunt his mind. She had died when he was very young, as a child he had taken her death very hard; his father had spent years with him, trying to comfort him until his grief slowly began to fade away.

But with the passage of time he was beginning to lose the memory of her. When he closed his eyes he could picture her lips as she smiled at him, her pure blue eyes- so alive and beautiful, like a torrential wave of expressive feeling. Sometimes, he could even feel the softness of her hair ghosting over his fingertips. And every time he pulled back his bowstring he could hear her voice whisper ‘Deep breath’.

His father never spoke of her, no grave can be found in his kingdom, no paintings and no mention of her name. And in all the books that Legolas had read through, he found no mention of her. He missed his mother dearly, and he wanted to know more about her. What type of person she was, what type of queen she was. What was her weapon of choice? What color was her hair? Where did she come from? Did she have a sister, brother, or parents that she left behind in this world? Legolas knew nothing about her, and he needed to right this wrong. All this hung in his mind as an unknown force pulled him north.

Legolas left on the first day of Echuir with the intent on finding this ancient kingdom of the north. When he had asked Bellona if she wanted to go with him, she refused with a slight shake to her head.

“I will not go with you, but instead I will offer directions. Go north, and keep going north until the only things you see are grey mountains, and black forests. Where the nights are longer than the days, and the stars are the only light to lead your way, you are only half way there. Between the two highest peaks that touch the clouds there is a valley. There, I think you might find what you are looking for.”
They said goodbye with a friendly embrace, and Legolas thus turned his sights north.

The forests that covered the mountains were dense and thick; populated with fir, pine, and spruce trees. Mountain springs flowed in all directions, and snow was a common fixture for most of the landscape. The further north he traveled the more remote the landscape became and the more dangerous the wildlife ranging from great bears, packs of wolves and a number of beasts he didn’t have a name for.

Fog would hover over the slopes and on the ground as he walked through the dark trees. The only sound to accompany the daunting silence was the occasional gust of wind. The further north he went the colder the air felt.

With every step he took, the cold was becoming more and more powerful. As if telling him to turn and leave his quest behind and question the directions of his friend. With only himself for company, and the lingering night stars leading his way after nearly a week of travel, he finally found the twin peaks that touched the sky.

As the distance lessened, Legolas found that he was walking upon a path. The red mosses had grown in on it, but the grey stone was still laid deliberately. Soon he found himself walking downhill, and the temperature began to get warmer. A humid fog lingered on the ground, hiding the trunks of the dark trees all around him. No small forest animals could be heard as he walked, and an eerie feeling started to creep through him. Legolas felt like he was being watched.

The path came to the side of a cliff that opened up the entire valley to its observer. A evenly running river flowed right through the center of the valley- no doubt a freshwater spring, similar to ones found all through this landscape. A temperate forest grew thickly within the valley; and an impressively giant elm tree grew at its center. From the distance Legolas was from the great tree, he could only just make out the incredible task that went into hollowing out the elm. The great tree must’ve acted as the central point to this kingdom.

The deeper he walked into the valley the more intrigued the young prince became. Metal ornaments hung from the trees, with glass beads of every color strung through the dark branches overhead. Silver lanterns, expertly crafted into beautiful orbs hung where they would have (in another time) offered light to the path he followed. Among the trees he could make out the homes that the ancient peoples had once lived in. They looked to be crafted from wood, stone and just as everything else- were ornamented with silver metal and colorful beads.

When the young Mirkwood prince stood before the great tree he was in awe. Only now had he really had a chance to take in the great beauty and pure imposing size of the tree. It stood taller than any tree he had ever seen it could only compare its size to that of a small mountain of its own.
When Legolas walked through the great archway carved into the elm, he marveled at the beauty of the architecture. Carven spiral columns ascended throughout the internal structure. Silver metals were used to accent everything; stairways were given metal railings, in some places metal was engraved into the wood in spirals and veins that wound their way throughout the wood.

He found himself wandering the great corridors and hallways. Legolas’s feet just carried him in some direction, and without completely realizing it- he found himself standing in front of 4 ornate silver thrones.

The two in the center were larger than the two on the ends. All of them were equally beautiful, and also singularly different. The one on the center-left was broad and powerful looking, while the one on the center right looked intimidating in its own right from the sharpness of its edges.

The one on the far right was perhaps the most ornate with its more dedicated workmanship; swirls of silver, and similar precious metals wove together to form the legs and arms rests, while wood was used as a base to build off from. Jewels and beads were embedded in the wood and even without a sufficient supply of light, they shown beautifully.

The last throne on the far left, used wood as a base as well, but did not boast the same extravagance compared to the one on the right. It was simple in the sense that it wasn’t as ornaments with swirls and beads and jewels. Instead it was like the entrance cavern to the great elm. The wood had been carved to great lengths, depicting swords, dragons, shields and landscapes. Metal was then used to give depth to these carvings, and work its way throughout the throne like living veins.

The young elf prince found himself running his fingers along the smooth wood and tracing the silver veins. His fathers’ throne boasted power, confidence and said to anyone that the person who sat upon it was a force to be reckoned with. Compared to the four before him; they all sat at the same level, and all gave a different feeling. But the one before him, carved and smooth captivated him. The workmanship was beautiful and whoever had done it must’ve been skilled indeed. And they no doubt must’ve been a dedicated person.

“My sister was always more imaginative than I was.”

Legolas nearly jumped out of his boots, and his heart rate sky rocketed. He didn’t hear anyone come up behind him, not a foot step or a breath. It startled him that anyone would be able to do this. Many a time, he had been told he had inherited his father’s great sense of hearing. No one had ever managed to sneak up on him without being noticed.

So when he turned to watch a woman with waist length white hair, fair skin, and brilliant blue eyes- he didn’t know what to do. Legolas noted the clearly foreign way she dressed. Elves loved their light colors, of whites, purples and blues. They liked their flowing capes and dresses, and the ethereal beauty that came with it.

But the elven women before him didn’t display any of these things. She seemed to float across the floor as she walked closer towards him, but did so in an intimidating and powerful way. She walked with practiced grace, and somehow managed a sense of power with her head held high and her shoulders squared.

She dressed in a sheer black dress, that clung tightly to her bodice and fell away from her hips freely. Beneath the sheer material it looked like she wore delicate chainmail, which Legolas could only guess to be mithril. Around her waist, a metal band, with charms of moons, flowers and stars ornamented her outfit and gave it a singular touch. Just like everything else he had come in contact with in the realm.

“Legolas, it’s been too long.” The womans voice was beautiful, and she smiled warmly at him from where she stood before him. Her pale winter blue eyes met his gaze directly without shying away.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” for all he could think of, he could not remember ever meeting this woman.

“Oh, excuse me!” her eyes widened slightly at realizing, and she clasped her hands together. “My name is Fearvel, I’m your Aunt. “

Bellona’s words quickly entered his mind. This woman, his aunt, standing in front of him is the white haired woman spotted in the north. He almost didn’t believe it. But he was just as much in awe. He couldn’t remember ever hearing his father speak her name.

“You’re quiet,” she chuckled lightly, “Its funny, when you were a babe you were always talking, or running through your father’s halls. But, I have a question for you, what brings you this far north? Surely, you did not expect to find someone living here? Not many even know of this places existence.”

“I was living with the dunedine, and some of them have claimed to have seen you in the forests…. Also, I wanted to find this kingdom for myself, something has been plaguing my mind and pulling me further and further north. But finding you must’ve been my greatest feat, because I didn’t even know I had an aunt.” He explained truthfully.

The white haired woman shook her head lightly, and she mumbled to herself. “Thranduil, what am I ever going to do with that man.”

There was silence for a few moments, before Legolas spoke again.

“You mentioned your sister before…. Was she my mother?” He didn’t know how else to ask.

“Yes,” Fearvel replied, and it seemed as though her silver blue eyes became distant as she looked at her nephew. “She was.”

Legolas felt a little awkward asking her this one question, but it was perhaps one of the most important things that he wanted to know about his mother.

“What was her name?” he asked. He could feel his heart rate beginning to speed up with anticipation.

“Nemireth- Yes, that was her name.”