Over the next couple of days he tried. He really did try to rest, but he kept getting these sudden surges of unbidden anger, urges to scream, to attack, to hurt. He suspected it had something to do with the rune permanently carved into his face. Elrond spent a lot of time in his study, searching for something to stop it, and Durion spent even more time on the guards' training grounds, mercilessly slashing at the dummies with the rapier. It was the only time he allowed himself and was allowed to come near any weapon, always under the watchful eyes of at least one of Elrond's sons. They quietly watched him with pity. Durion wanted to punch them. One day, Elfond came to him with a black mask in hand. It was designed to cover the upper half of his face and his scarred cheeks. Upon further inspection, he noticed that the small, intricate detailing across and in the mask was made of metal very similar to mithril.
"What is this?" Durian ran his thumb over it.
"A metal made with a combination of silver and mithril. It would be better if we used pure mithril, but our supply is scarce. The effect it will have shouldn't be affected, just the durability." Durion looked at the Lord with confusion. "Mithril was often used not only for its incredible strength against physical weapons, but also for its durability against magic. So, in theory, as long as the metal touches the skin around the area, your bursts should not be appearing." Durion stared at the mask in awe, but in the back of his mind, the mask reminded him of something.
"I...Thank you...I don't know what to say." Elrond smiled kindly.
"Let's try it on for a few hours and I think, after that, if nothing happens, you can roam Rivendell freely. Arwen's been wanting to speak with you."
"Should I be worried?" Sighed Durion, knowing that talks with Arwen usually resulted in her coaxing every little secret out of him.
"Hmm, depends on how much she liked the last trinket you stole for the poor from her."
"Now that you mention it, I'm surprised Elladan and Elrohir didn't say anything about the last time I 'borrowed' one of their jewels." Snorted Durion.
"I think they were simply too worried." Elrond chuckled and Durion's heart swelled. The elven Lord turned to leave.
"My Lord-" Durion's call stopped him and Elrond turned back to him. "In Ost-in-Edhil, when I used Raidho to get away, I didn't think of Rivendell." Elrond frowned in worried confusion. "I... I thought of home." Durion looked at the floor, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. Elrond smiled.
"Durion, as much of a lone wolf you like to pretend you are, you will always have a home here." No, those weren't tears stinging in his eyes, thank you very much. "Come now, let us go for a walk."
***
"Durion!" Arwen called happily and jumped up from the bench she was sitting on in a garden. She excitedly grabbed his hand and dragged him off, leaving Elrond in the dust. "How are you? It's been decades since I last saw you."
"I am... alive." Durion decided on saying.
"Where were you? We've heard nothing about you since the dwarves reclaimed the Lonely Mountain." Durion stayed quiet for a long time before deciding that Arwen would get the truth out of him eventually anyway.
"I was hiding from Gandalf." Arwen frowned.
"Why?"
"Do you know Legolas?" He sighed, resigned.
"The prince of Mirkwood?" Durion nodded. "I know of him. Why?"
"Gandalf told me we were...soul bonded." Arwen's eyes widened.
"You and Legolas?" She gasped. "Durion, do you know what it means?"
"Well, Gandalf explained it kind of haphazardly so..."
"Durion, Beren and Lúthien were soul bonded." Durion was left staring at the new information.
"What?! What does that mean?"
"Have you felt a pull to him?"
"I... well, I guess when he came looking for me in Gondor..."
"He looked for you?" Arwen gasped and Durion got the feeling that she was enjoying this way too much.
"Yes and, uh, there have been some dreams here and there and-" He cut himself off. A memory from the ambush in Ost-in-Edhil resurfaced.
Please.
Where are you, Greenleaf?
Durion blushed.
"Damn it..."
***
Elrond sent the two of them out two days ago on fast horses, someone was in great need of help. They must have been in great trouble, since the two elves picked up on the presence of RingWraiths already. It has been a few days and the mask worked wonders. He felt himself again. Enough to wield a sword in his hand steadily. He decided to keep the rapier and named it Holly after its intricate and useful knuckle guard. Arwen's horse, Asfaloth, was the fastest horse in Rivendell, and Durion's had trouble keeping up. Night fell by the time they found the lost travelers. A man is crouched on the ground near them and Arwen sneaks up on him, unsheathing her sword.
"What is this? A ranger caught off his guard?" She speaks, a smile heard through her tone. The man looks up, his chin length brown hair falling over his eyes.
"Arwen." His voice is gravely and deep. Durion feels like he's intruding. The ranger leads them to a group of four hobbits, one of them moaning in pain on the forest floor.
"Frodo, I am Arwen. I have come here to help you. Hear my voice. Return to the light." She speaks to the injured halfling kindly.
"Who are they?"
"They're elves."
"He's fading." Durion sighs upon inspecting the wound on the hobbit. The wound that looks awfully like his own. "He's not going to last."
"We must get him to my father." Arwen nods and the ranger lifts and places Frodo on Arwen's horse. "We've been looking for you for two days. There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know."
"Stay with the hobbits. I will send horses for you." The ranger said.
"I am the faster rider. I'll take him."
"The road is too dangerous."
"I can go with you." Durion pipes in, leading his horse by the reins.
"No, you are still recovering. Stay here and protect them. If I can get across the river, the power of my people will protect him."
"What are they saying?" One of the hobbits asks, worried for his friend.
"I do not fear them." Arwen looks deep into the ranger's eyes and Durion has a feeling there is more to them than meets the eye.
"As you wish." The ranger sighs. "Arwen, ride hard. Don't look back."
"Ride fast, Asfaloth, ride fast!"
"What are you doing? Those Wraiths are still out there!" Another hobbit calls after Arwen's retreating form.
"Take some load off that pony and give it to my horse. We'll be faster." Durion told the hobbits and prepared some latches for the bags on the saddle.
"What's your name?" The ranger asked in a quiet voice as the hobbits occupied themselves with the task.
"Durion, at your service." The elf nodded his head.
"Legolas's Durion?" The ranger's eyes widened and the elf flushed.
"How the hell do you know about that?!" And thus, a new friendship begins.
Alright, Aragorn and Arwen are definitely gonna gang up on Legolas and Durion...
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In the Ruins//Legolas
ספרות חובביםDurion's heritage is painted in mystery. Being the last elf born in the Second Age, with his mother dead and his caregivers nowhere to be found, he battles with what his future holds in store for him. What reason would a mother have for naming her c...
