It had been a long time since Legolas had walked through Mirkwood in this manner. Usually he had ridden his horse through so as to see over the swarm of people, and he had been accompanied by other royals or guards. Now that the War of the Ring was over, though, he wished nothing more than to take an uneventful walk in his homeland. His original desire had been to find a civilian and have a pleasant conversation. This, though, seemed unlikely since all the people of Mirkwood seemed to be steering clear of the Prince.

He was just thinking of turning back when he heard screaming and crying. The commotion seemed to be coming from up ahead and he rushed to see what was going on. The civilians were ignoring the scene being caused in the middle of the street.

A woman was kneeling on the ground, bawling her eyes out, as Cilantro --one of the palace’s head guards and main soldiers-- tried to walk away, holding a bundle. The woman was holding onto his leg as if for dear life, so Cilantro kicked her to loosen her grib. It was then that Legolas realized the bundle was a baby. What was Cilantro doing stealing this baby from its mother?

Legolas surged foward and approached the pair.

“Cilantro!” he called, trying to sound as demanding and regal as his father, the King of Mirkwood, was apt to sound at times like these. Cilantro stopped and looked up at the Prince; the woman continued to weep on the ground.

“Is there a reason this babe is being pulled from its mother?” he asked, continuing the stare down that he and Cilantro seemed to be having. Cilantro said not a word, but continued to hold the bundle of blanket and baby in the air.

Legolas was afraid Cilantro would drop the baby, so he ordered, “Very well, Cilantro. Give me the baby, I will take over from here.”

Without missing a beat, Cilantro thrust the baby into Legolas’s arms, gave another swift kick to the woman on the ground, and ran off.

The woman on the ground was doubled over, bowing low to the Prince, still weeping, and trembling in fear. Legolas saw her hand shake as they lay on the ground before her head, and on closer study he reaffirmed his guess. Another tiny hand was visible underneath the woman’s arm; another child was being hidden beneath her body in a desperate attempt to keep this child safe.

“What is your name?” Legolas asked, not sure if the woman would be able to answer because of her visible tremors.

Instead, he heard a faint voice stutter a reply, “A-n-n-Aniri-i-i-th.”

“Stand up, Anirith,” Legolas instructed, hoping he had gotten her name right. Anirith, keeping her chin pointed down and her gaze at the ground, rose slowly and shakily. The child that had been hidden underneath her body ran behind her and clung onto the plain blue skirt its mother wore. Anirith had halted weeping, but tears still rolled down her cheeks and her breath came in short gasps.

Legolas took a step towards her, still holding the bundle in his arms which was now screaming loudly. Anirith shook harder and Legolas worried she would pass out from fear.

He said not a word, instead letting his actions speak for him. Holding the baby out to her, he watched as she grabbed the infant and fell back to the ground, squeezing it close and kissing it repeatedly on the head. The other child clung to its mother’s side as Anirith cried harder than she had before and rubbed her hands over the baby’s head, as if not believing she were truly holding it again.

Legolas noticed that wherever she rubbed, though, a smudge of red appeared. Anirith noticed it, too, and glanced quickly at her hands before returning her attention to the baby.

“I’m sorry, Solwen. I’m getting you all bloody,” she whispered. In the quick glance, Legolas, too, saw her hands and the gashes that covered her palms.

Anirith looked up at Legolas, as if just noticing he was still there, and immediately bent back over in a low bow.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Thank you,” she said into the ground, holding both children close to her.

“I request only one thing in return,” Legolas replied to her thanks, causing Anirith to look up at him quickly with fear in her eyes. “I would ask that you accompany me in a walk and a talk.”

Anirith looked at him hard through her teary eyes, as if trying to understand his request.

“I cannot deny Your Majesty’s wishes,” she finally answered.

“If you don’t want to, I can’t make you,” he assured her.

Anirith stood warily, a little unsteady on her feet, and took the other child’s hand, keeping Solwen in her arms.

Legolas walked a bit off of the main path before turning to make sure Anirith was there. She was and he chose this time to try and start a conversation.

“Your name is Anirith. What are their names?” he asked, motioning to the baby in her arms and the child by her side.

“This is Solwen, Your Majesty,” she pointed to the baby,” and this is--”

“Aiwe!” the little girl said proudly, temporarily letting go of her mother’s hand and flinging her arms in the air, as if to prove the point.

Legolas, having never spent much time around small children, smiled at her antics, and said to her, “Hello, Aiwe. My name is Legolas.”

“Prince Legolas,” Anirith corrected him, then clamped a hand over her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t mean to correct you,” she apologized quickly, bowing her head.

“It’s all right, Anirith,” he assured her, slightly confused. What in the world had made her so afraid of royals?

Aiwe, however, found his royal status exciting, and asked, “Are you Prince Charming?”

“Who?”

“Prince Charming,” Aiwe repeated, sounding exasperated that Legolas didn’t know who that was. “My brudder told me about him. He is handsome and nice and he saves princesses and kills dragons and lives in a big c-c-c-”

“Castle,” Anirith gave her the word she was searching for. Aiwe nodded.

Legolas smiled at the question and asked Anirith, “You have more kids?”

Anirith nodded, keeping her gaze on the ground, and replied, “Yes, Your Highness. The rest are at home.”

“How many more?”

“Two, lord. A son and a daughter.”

“How long have you lived in Mirkwood?” he asked.

Anirith thought a moment and then replied, “Almost twenty years. Not very long.”

“Where else have you lived?”

Legolas had not gotten to travel much, until he became a member of the Fellowship, ofcourse, and ever since he was a child he had loved listening to people’s tales of other places.

“Lothlorien, Ascadaciliel, Rohan, and in the wild outside the Iron Hills,” she answered, daring a glance up from the ground. A bird flew up out of a nearby bush and she jerked her head back down, then added as an afterthought, “Your Majesty.” The continuous use of these titles was beginning to annoy Legolas --who was never big on being held above civilians-- but he said nothing to the case.

Aiwe was beginning to drag, the long walk being tiresom for her short little legs, so Anirith knelt down and picked Aiwe up. Carrying two children at once was an art Anirith had seemed to master.

Legolas was amazed that she had lived in so many places, especially in the lifespan of a woman. This sparked curiosity in him and he looked at her. Anirith’s ears were covered with her hair, so that proved no help, but Solwen and Aiwe both had tiny little elf ears.

“You are an elf?” Legolas asked. Anirith nodded and moved her hair so he could see the tip.

About this time the castle came into focus. Legolas didn’t pay any heed to it, continuing to lead Anirith. She, on the other hand, noticed where they were and stopped dead in her tracks.

“I apologize, Your Majesty, but I must be getting home,” she said steadily, staring at the castle with the most basic of fears showing blatantly in her eyes.

“It’s all right, Anirith, come inside. We can tell Lord Thranduil about Cilantro trying to take Solwen--”

“He was following orders from the King,” she answered, a spark of anger flashing through her eyes. The fire disappeared quickly, though, and the fear returned. “Thank you, Your Highness, but I must be returning,” she said again. Then Anirith turned and fled, leaving the palace, guards, and royals far behind.

Legolas stared after her for a moment, pondering her words. He was following orders from the King...

Anger surged through him and he all but ran up the steps, through the courtyard, and into the Throne-Room.

His father sat on the throne, deep in conversation with Aragorn on the throne beside him. He vagualy saw Arwen by the window, looking out over the courtyard, and Gimli by the door, talking to several of the guards.

“Milord!” Legolas called upon entering the room. Thranduil and Aragorn both stopped their conversation and looked at him.

“Do you order children to be taken from their mothers?” Legolas demanded, praying that his anger would not overcome his ability for thought.

Thranduil looked at his son, trying to figure out what this outburst was about, and asked, “Do you think me a child-stealer?”

Legolas shook his head, then replied, “I have learned of the problems of Mirkwood.”

Thranduil motioned his son come closer and explain. And Legolas did, telling his father all about Anirith and Cilantro and the bloody hands and the fear she had shown just by seeing the palace.

“This is an outrage!” Thranduil boomed, sending a flock of birds in a tree by the window flying away.

Legolas could only nod.

“How is our kingdom suppose to be great if our people are terrified of us?” he asked, calming down slightly now that his father knew of the problem.

Thranduil agreed and said, “Tomorrow. Tomorrow we will go and spend the entire day among our people. We will spend time with them until they trust us. And we will find this Anirith. I’d rather like to have a talk with her and see what help we can offer in place of Cilantro. Which reminds me. He is now wanted. I want him brought to me...alive. Creating orders from a king, childstealing, and who knows what else. Keep your eyes open.”

1. Not much to comment on this. Wrote it before I knew as much about Tolkien as I do now, so excuse the inaccuracies that are thrown around in there.

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