We Can Make It If We Run

Introduction

For new people, firstly: hello and welcome! Some details of these stories refer directly to In a Field of Blood and Stone, which is a canonic telling of the Battle of the Five Armies from an elven pov, and things would make more sense if you read that first, but you don't have to!

So I know it's been a while, but here is the beginning of the sequel to In a Field of Blood and Stone. I have been ridiculously busy with exams, and only finished on Tuesday, so I just didn't have the motivation to get around to doing this until then. On the plus side, I now have the entire summer to myself without any work to do! And the awful anxiety that comes from having to wait for exam results... Oh, and my country is rapidly going downhill, because the majority just voted to leave the EU. The value of the pound has plummeted, there's been a rapid increase in hate crimes because this has legitimised the racism and xenophobia of idiots in this country, and I think most of Europe is pretty annoyed with us right now. As a young English person who, along with 75% of people my age, voted to remain, I am so sorry to the rest of Europe for the people in my country who allowed this to happen.

The title comes from another Bruce Springsteen song: Thunder Road. If you are ever driving really fast down a long road with the windows down and the wind in your hair, then this is the song for that moment. Anyway, this sequel isn't a sequel in that it's one full story- instead, this will be a series of interconnected oneshots and short stories that follow up the events of In a Field of Blood and Stone, focusing mainly on the elves (of course). There will be Bard and Gandalf appearing in later stories, though, and I have those planned/in the process of being written.

So this introduction was only meant to be a few hundred words long. That didn't happen. As far as the length of these stories go, it's pretty short- I have one story for this already written that's something like 20k long and will be published in several chapters- but it's still a few thousand words. I'm tentatively planning to publish a chapter once a week, to give me enough time to actually write them, but we'll see how it goes.

As always, reviews are very welcome, and I only own Belhadron and Rhavaniel.

0-o-0-o-0

The woods were tantalisingly close. They could see the boughs of the closest trees, the leaves having turned a thousand shades of autumn now winter was fast approaching. Trees carven out of stone, stark white against the dark woods, were stood marking the entrance to their realm, and every elf had been watching them almost hungrily, weary and more than ready to step underneath the boughs of their realm once more.

Erebor was behind them, its grey peak shrouded in cloud. Laketown, or the beginnings of it, sat behind them too, as did Bard and all his people, and the graves and pyres of all those they'd left behind. It had been two weeks, and the edges had been sanded down on the raw grief that they all bore, but they were still sharp. It would take much longer for the wounds to fade to scars.

Thranduil turned his face into the wind briefly, his cloak snapping around his heels. "Thank you, Mithrandir," he said softly. "I am aware enough to know that this would have ended far worse if you had not been here."

Gandalf smiled. "How much did it take for you to admit that?" he asked. Thranduil's lips curved in amusement, and he shook his head.

"I would tell you that you are welcome in my halls at any time," he said. "But I don't think it makes any difference to you. Just try not to bring any trouble with you when you come. We've had enough of that for a while."

Gandalf huffed a laugh. "The trouble finds me, not the other way around," he said. "I'll come back in a year or so, when I have the time and have returned from the Shire." He saw the look in Thranduil's eye. "I'll make sure Bilbo gets back home safely, of course," he said. "And I will keep an eye on him. You could too, if you were so inclined."

Thranduil chuckled briefly. "I do not have eyes west of the mountains, and you know it," he replied. "But I will keep an ear to the ground. There's a far greater storm coming, and we need to weather it somehow."

"Tell Legolas not to get into too much trouble," Gandalf said. "And remember Thorin's words. He was right; there does have to be some kindness in this world, if we are to succeed."

Thranduil inclined his head. "Master Baggins is proof of that," he said. "I will love and protect Legolas as I have always done. You do not need to worry about that, of all things, Mithrandir." His voice had grown fierce as his gaze flickered back towards where Legolas was waiting. "We'll come back from this," he murmured. "I will make sure of it."

Gandalf nodded, and clasped his shoulder. "Take care, old friend," he said.

"And you," Thranduil replied with a smile. "Safe journey. And thank you, Mithrandir. For everything."

Gandalf bowed his head, and then walked back to his horse. Bilbo Baggins raised a hand in farewell, sat astride his pony, and Thranduil echoed it, thinking of the gift Bilbo had given him, only a few minutes ago, and all the days after Erebor where he had been so surprised by the halfling. He had meant it when he had said that Bilbo Baggins was perhaps braver than all of them, for all their bows and bright swords, and he found himself hoping that the halfling had a good life.

He mounted his horse and rode back to the head of his army. Legolas and Belhadron were waiting there, talking quietly to Rhavaniel. She was seated in front of Belhadron on his horse, her arm securely bound to her chest. She barely seemed lucid, but it was, Thranduil supposed, better than being unconscious.

Legolas glanced up as he approached. He had said his farewells earlier, and now looked impatient to return home. Belhadron looked so concerned over Rhavaniel, and Legolas, that Thranduil wasn't sure he'd fully noticed that they were almost home.

"Are they still going the long way round?" he asked.

Thranduil nodded. "I do not think Master Baggins wants to step under our boughs again for a little while," he replied. "But they will be safe enough, and I do not doubt that we will see Mithrandir again shortly." He glanced at Rhavaniel, who looked as if she might have fallen back to sleep again. "Are we ready?"

Legolas nodded, and without a word, Thranduil turned and began to ride east once more. The army fell into step behind them, and the closer they got to home, the more Thranduil could sense the strange undercurrent of relief and tension that was building. He was well versed in such a feeling, remembered it easily from when he returned home after the Last Alliance.

The trees of their home grew closer and closer, until finally they were within the very shadow of the wood itself. Legolas found himself staring at the trees with a weary longing he hadn't felt before. He felt exhausted, and he knew the other captains were the same. Belhadron had dark circles beneath his eyes from staying up each night to watch over Rhavaniel, who had started to run a fever and was restless. The other captains were just as tired, stretched too thin trying to keep everything under control whilst still mourning two of their own.

By the time they reached the stronghold itself, if was getting dark, and Legolas had already resigned himself to working through the night in order to even begin the efforts needed to ensure things returned to normal as smoothly as possible. Thranduil and the captains were the first into the large courtyard, and their faces remained carefully impassive at the sight of elves waiting for them, who looked like they were trying so hard to keep their hope banked, because they were elves of the Woodland Realm, and they knew what they could be facing upon the army's return.

Despite promising his father he would get some rest, Legolas spent most of the night working. A lot of the elves in the army had been drafted and had lives outside of being soldiers, and so they went home, drifting away in groups to go back to their settlements and villages. But there was still so much to do.

Belhadron had disappeared as soon as they arrived, taking Rhavaniel down from the saddle and carrying her inside to the healers. From what Legolas heard, he had stayed there until he was certain he wasn't needed, and then disappeared to do whatever work needed to be done.

Thranduil spent the night behind closed doors with his advisors and council, and what they discussed did not pass from the room that night. The elite companies, the elves that the captains themselves directly commanded, they didn't rest either, content to follow their captains in everything. Legolas was fairly sure, when another of his archers came to him asking what else needed to be done, that they were all afraid of stopping, because of what might catch up with them if they did.

0-o-0-o-0

Belhadron tracked down Legolas to the common room of the captains in the early hours of the morning, a few hours before dawn. He was working, drawing up plans with one of the lesser captains who had remained behind to guard the realm for what to do now. Belhadron walked in, rapping his knuckles on the desk as he cleared his throat.

"I'm officially calling it," he said, levelling Legolas with a look. "Chambers. Now. Or I'm getting your father."

Legolas rolled his eyes, and didn't even look up from the table. "I'm busy," he murmured. "Give me another fifteen minutes."

"No, because fifteen minutes will turn into half an hour, which will turn into an hour, and then neither of us will get any sleep tonight." Belhadron walked over and took the quill out of Legolas' hand. At a glare from him, the lesser captain got up and quickly left.

Legolas sighed, looking irritated. "There's a lot of work that needs to get done," he said wearily, rubbing at his eyes. Belhadron shook his head.

"As your second in command, I am telling you that you are no use to anyone if you are so tired you cannot think straight," he said. He grabbed the chair, pulling it out from under the table. "Get up. You're going to bed."

Legolas rolled his eyes again, but didn't protest, and it was a sign of how tired he was that he merely got up when Belhadron grabbed his arm. The hallways passed in a blur, the activity slowly dying down until they passed through the doors into the royal quarters and it was nearly silent. There was a light coming from underneath the door to Thranduil's chambers, but Belhadron ignored it as he headed for Legolas' rooms.

There was the sound of a door opening, and the two of them looked up to see Thranduil standing in the doorway. Belhadron ducked his head, and then gently pushed Legolas towards his father as he headed towards Legolas' rooms.

"I thought I told you to get some rest," Thranduil said, though the stern tone to his voice slipped easily as he spoke, and he merely sounded tired, and fond.

"There's so much that needs to be done," Legolas murmured. "And with two captains dead and another badly injured, there's more work for the rest of us to do." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We've only just-"

"Greenleaf." Thranduil cut in, gripping Legolas' shoulder. "Legolas. You do not have to shoulder all of the responsibilities on your own. And I know you think that if you keep working, then the enormity of what has happened won't reach you, but you know that isn't true. And you cannot exhaust yourself like this."

Legolas' lips twisted in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

At those words, something in Thranduil's expression cracked, and he tugged Legolas forwards, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into an embrace. Legolas drew in a breath and clung to Thranduil, hands tangling in his tunic. He choked on a breath and heaved a sob, just one, pressing his face into his father's shoulder.

"I know," Thranduil murmured. "I know." He smoothed a hand down Legolas' back. "You are allowed to find it hard," he said. "You are allowed to take some time to pull yourself together. But we have come through this, and we are still here. Remember that."

Legolas nodded, and Thranduil let himself hold his son for one more moment before pulling away. "Get some rest," he said. "And take as much as you need. I don't want to see you working before midday. And tell Belhadron that the same applies to him, because I think he's had less sleep than me, given how often he's stayed awake to keep an eye on Rhavaniel."

Legolas nodded again. "That might be a little difficult, but I will try," he said.

Thranduil smiled tenderly, pushing a loose lock of hair out of Legolas' face. "I am your King, and I can make it an order," he said, but there was no heat in his voice. "I have the healers on orders to notify me immediately if anything changes with Rhavaniel, so if something does happen, I will let you know. That might make Belhadron shut up and go to sleep."

Legolas huffed a laugh. "I'll tell him that," he said.

Thranduil pressed a kiss to his forehead, and pushed him gently in the direction of his rooms. "Go to sleep," he murmured. "Everything will still be here when you wake up."

Legolas nodded, and Thranduil watched as he slipped into his own rooms, the door falling shut behind him. He sighed, and then returned to his study.

0-o-0-o-0

Legolas let the door fall shut behind him. There was a fire burning in the hearth already, and Belhadron was in the middle of grabbing spare blankets out of the wardrobe and piling them on the divan in Legolas' room. "I assume your father told you to go to sleep," he murmured, tossing a pillow onto the divan as well.

Legolas smiled wearily. "He said he doesn't want to see either of us working before midday," he replied, shedding himself of weapons and his leathers. "He'll come and tell us if anything happens with Rhavaniel, by the way, so you don't need to get up early to check on her."

Belhadron huffed what could be a laugh, if he didn't sound so weary. "I'm fairly sure your father would find me, throw me back in here and bar the door if I left before midday," he said. He tugged off his leather jacket, draping it over a chair, and toed off his boots. He glanced over at Legolas, who was leaning against the poster of his bed. "Go to sleep," he said, shoving the cushions off the divan and replacing them with blankets and a pillow. Legolas shrugged, and Belhadron sat down on the edge of the divan.

"I'll tell you what you told me on the shores of the lake," he said, running one hand back through his hair and tugging briefly at the knots and tangles he found. "We've come back every single time before. We'll come back now. We'll go on. We can't do anything else."

Legolas smiled softly, ducking his head. "I know," he murmured. He pulled back the covers and all but fell into bed, exhaustion quickly catching up with him. Belhadron lay down on the divan, fussing with the blankets until he was satisfied.

They fell into sleep quickly, and the room was silent save for the crackle of the fire in the hearth. They were exhausted, weighed down by grief and worry and responsibilities that gripped their shoulders and clung to them as they walked on, but for now, they were asleep and the weight on them had lifted, just for a few hours.

It was going to take a lot of work to get back to a semblance of normal, but they knew that, and they were ready. It would look better in the morning. And if it didn't, then they would work to get the morning where they woke up and it did look better, and they wouldn't stop until they reached it. After all, they didn't know what else to do but keep going.

finis

So that's the introduction, I hope you enjoyed it. I'll put up the next story, another oneshot, next Saturday. I have a few stories written, and quite a few planned, but if you want to see anything specific in this sequel, then feel free to let me know and I'll be more than happy to try and accommodate it! As always, reviews are very welcome. It's nice to be back.