Title: The Sea and The Flame
By: Elvensong
Rated: PG
Feedback:  europa494@yahoo.com I love feedback, let me know what you thought of the 
story. 
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Chapter 1 – The Fading of the Light

 The times were changing.  The land was changing.  No mortal could describe 
what was occurring, but even their small perception of time could tell them that 
something was changing the landscape of Middle Earth.  
 
            Existence was changing for the immortal and magical creatures of the world.  
 
Unicorns, which were once seen forming the forests, were becoming scarcer.  Not 
even the presence of a young maiden could coax the remaining ones out into the open.  
Some believed there was none left, for the forests did not contain that shimmer that 
announced their unique magic.
 
            Fairies could not longer be found on the fields, appearing as nothing but fireflies 
to the untrained eye.  Only those with knowledge of their habits would be able to catch 
their playing on the flowers, but even beings that had seen fairies proclaimed to not 
having seen one in many ages.
 
            Dragons were not found in the caves of Middle Earth.  Rumors of great piles of 
gold went unattacked, and warriors could no longer test their metal against the great 
might and fire of a such a powerful foe.
 
            However, none of that was as disturbing as one trend.  One change, which stroke 
fear into their friends, and into the heart of the land itself.  
 
            Elves were slowly disappearing from the landscape.
 
            Not long ago, there was a time when Elves were seen daily by some of the 
peoples of Middle Earth.  They were numerous enough to build great armies and fight in 
great battles.  They had spectacular cities and multiple cultures.  One race of Elf varied 
greatly from another.  There were elves in Rivendell, Mirkwood and many places in 
between.
 
            Now, they were dwindling.  Places that used to be great holdouts of the Elves 
were abandoned.  By the time of the war of the one ring, Elves were so scarce that the 
Hobbits had never even seen one before their journey.  It was after the war of the ring 
that the race of the Firstborn truly began to fade, for they were not called upon by the 
other races.  There was peace and the threat was no longer.  It was always assumed, 
especially by man, that the immortals would always be there when they needed them.
 
            They were immortal, after all.  Time slowly passed, and it was not long after the 
battle that some men closed themselves off to the rest of the world, hiding in its 
undeveloped corners looking for places none had ever seen before.
 
            Soon, far too soon, they were so few that some peoples had already forgotten 
them.  Elves were said to be only legend and myth in the far out places of the world.  
Immortality was an unbelievable concept in some cultures, if only they knew that there 
were still some members of the forgotten race in Middle Earth.  There had to be, for it 
was them who gave the forest its shimmer and the river its sparkle. There had to be some 
left.  Somewhere.
 
            The beautiful Elves were leaving Middle Earth, the call of the sea proving too 
much for them to resist.  It was some unbelievable force which beckoned them.  A calling 
from afar that had to be answered.  Once an Elf left to find out what the sea wished of it, 
it would not return from its quest.
 
            But what was this call?  Elves assumed this to be nature's call to them to move 
on.  That they would find no more on these shores and they should pursue new places, 
unseen by Man or Dwarf.  
 
            It was believed they dove into the sea, hoping to find what they were seeking 
among the waves.  They had the power to live beneath its surface, to dwell on its floor.  
That is where they went, and that is where they remained.  Growing more and more faint 
in the realm of the lands.  Residing together just off the shores, riding the tides, held there 
by some mysterious force.  
 
            The question remained about the source of this pull of the sea.  No one thought 
that it could be something other than nature's will.  No one believed that anything could 
have the power to affect an entire race.  No one thought that a creature could have such 
power as to hold them there, for its own delight, but they were deceived
 
            Gandalf knew something was unnatural about all of this.  After Lord Elrond had 
left, something began to plague his dreams.  Images of fire, a great being of fire.  What 
did this have to do with the Elves journeying to the sea? He knew he would have to find 
out, he would solve this puzzled of else see the most fair of all beings fade from the 
landscape forever.  He would need his friends, the Dwarf and the Man to go with him.  
For this was all of their business, this was the business of all of Middle Earth.  They 
would find their friend Elf and they would together journey to find the power that had 
claimed such a tight grasp on all the Firstborns of Middle Earth.
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Chapter 2 – Into the Woods

There were even fewer Elves left in the world than they had thought.  The Wizard 
knew the situation was dire, but he had no idea that they were so close to the final hour.  
Every small elven camp they journeyed to was empty and abandoned.  
            
            "We cannot linger looking for an Elf somewhere, we must go to Mirkwood and 
speak to Prince Legolas immediately.  He can answer the many questions plaguing our 
minds."
            "Agreed, Aragorn. It would seem the annoying Elves have eluded us as always.  
They never have made any sense to me."
            Gandalf smiled, nothing changes in the mind of a Dwarf.  Even after having 
traveled with an Elf for so long, he still would call them annoying and crazy, but inside 
he knew better.  
 
            The trio traveled a long distance to Mirkwood.  They told stories of their 
adventures with the one ring, and Gandalf told of many ages and legends he had seen 
become reality.
            "Most legend was once reality, remember that always, mortals.  For soon the 
beloved face of the Elves may also pass into that category.  The minute you stop 
believing myth entirely is when entire races fall into nothingness."
 
            The words of the wizard were wise and Aragorn spent the night drinking them in 
by the fire.  They were now getting even closer to Mirkwood and were expecting to see 
some of the guards who line the boarders soon.  
 
            Finally, after traveling a long period of time over many terrains, the top of the 
trees of Mirkwood became visible.  As they neared, something was very off.  The forest 
seemed darker than before, if that was possible.  It had always been a foreboding place 
where evil lay in dark corners, but the power of the Elves kept that evil from completely 
conquering all light inherit in those woods.
 
            "There are no guards?" Gimli questioned. Wood-Elves were very well known for 
their prowess at detecting intruders.  They had caught his ancestors completely off guard 
during their quest to the lonely mountain.
            "We must continue.  There are Elves in these woods still, however they are well 
hidden.  They do not attack travels anymore for they have not the numbers."  They raised 
their hoods in order to keep their identity hidden from those who would seek to destroy 
them.  
 
            The companions journeyed for nearly a day into the woods towards the last 
known elven settlement.  Along the way they saw smaller places long since abandoned 
and overgrown.  
 
            They entered a clearing which seemed to be still in use.  It looked as if the there 
had been a fire in the campsite recently, and there were supplied laid about.  
            "It seems we are nearing our target." Gandalf whispered.
 
            A voice suddenly came at them from somewhere in the trees above.
            "What are you doing in Mirkwood?" The three travels began to turn towards the 
source of the voice when an arrow struck the tree next to Aragorn's head.
            "Don't move until you answer me!" 
 
            No one moved.
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Chapter 3 – Towards the West
           Gandalf stood taller and called out to the being aiming down on them from 
above.
            "Are you really going to shoot old friends?"
 
            Suddenly, they heard a drop from above and slowly turned around.
            "Gandalf?"
            They recognized the undisguised voice immediately. 
            "Legolas!" Gimli cried and ran forward to embrace his old friend.
            "Aye! It is good to see all of you again! What brings you here to Mirkwood?"
            Aragorn's joy at seeing his friend quickly was replaced by concern.
            "It is the dwindling of your race that brings us here. You must tell me what you 
know."
            "Come with me my friends. We shall find more comfortable places to sit and 
talk."
 
            Before they left Legolas walked to the trees with the arrow in it.  Very gentle he 
pulled the arrow from the bark.  It had not gone into the tree too deep for he had fired that 
shot as delicately as possible.  He whispered apologies to the tree and put his hand over 
the mark where the arrow had once been.  He then also chanted an ancient Elvish spell of 
healing meant to take the pain away.  After he was sure the beautiful tree, a very old 
friend of his, was going to be fine, he rejoined the others on their path.  
 
            Legolas led them deeper into the woods, the skill at knowing exactly how to 
navigate the forest impressed even Gandalf.  Of course, this was his realm and future 
kingdom, and it was always so easy to forget to great age.  He had seen many generations 
come and go before them, and would see countless more after they had gone from this 
world. 
            They had arrived at the last settlement of the woodland Elves.  They really had no 
idea how many were here since Wood-Elves enjoy hiding from others, especially in the 
own homes.  However, they knew that there were significantly less numbers here then 
there were only a short time ago.  
            They entered the palace where Legolas lead them to a beautiful large living room, 
covered with tapestries.  Many of them were maps of the forest, telling where to find 
other Elves and also where to find the numerous foes which lurked in these woods.  
 
            "We know of what you speak.  The calling to depart these shores, and even our 
woodland home is growing stronger by the day.  My kin are constantly leaving, hoping to 
find an answer to this call.  We do not try to dissuade them any longer, for it is of no use.  
Soon, there will be no more Elves in Mirkwood.  I only fear that the forest will descend 
into evil far too quickly after we've gone."
            Gandalf took in his words with great care, "So it is worse than I have feared.  
Soon Mirkwood will join all the other elven societies we have found in desertion."
            "Is that true, Gandalf? Are there so little of my kind left?"
            "I'm afraid so, my young Elf.  Soon, there will be no more Elves in Middle Earth, 
and we shall never look upon anything like your kind again."
            Legolas' face fell.  He had thought that maybe some Elves somewhere were 
immune.  That some of their magic might survive into eternity on these lands.  Was 
magic truly to fade in this manner?  Were Elves to join the Unicorns as only a myth to be 
told to children? It could not be so.
            "It is the will of the fates that we leave this world.  What am I to do about it?  I 
assure you I am not immune to its effects, for I have also felt the call of the sea in my 
spirit."
            Gimli grew afraid, he did not wish to loose his friend to this force.
            "We must know what awaits your kind, Legolas." Gimli had grown quite attached 
to this Elf, even though he would never admit it. 
            "You must to our guide, Legolas" The old wizard stated, "for even I cannot hear 
this call. It is not for me. In order to find out where your kin are going, you must lead us."
            "I do not know if I can leave my home." Legolas' voice was hushed, "I may never 
return if I go now. I am needed if my father were to depart."
            "Legolas, please.  Help us. I cannot let you go to a fate I know nothing about." 
Aragorn feared many things, above all the fact that his beloved Arwen was beginning to 
fell to pull from afar.  He could not loose her after all they have been through together. 
She may have given up her immortality, but she was still an Elf and subject to the 
instincts of their kind.
 
            Legolas stood and paced around.  How could he leave his home now?  However, 
it was only a matter of time before he would leave, and these were his friends and 
companions asking him to go.  He had swore an oath to go with them and fight with them 
before, he could not abandon that now.
 
            "I will go with you if you like. Though I would wish to be able to return after I go 
to the sea."
            Gimli snorted, "It's just like you crazy Elves to go diving into the water with no 
good reason.  What? Did your kind think there wasn't enough going on here that you had 
to go find out if the bottom of the ocean was as wet as the top?"
            The company smiled at the Dwarf's words.
 
            They had stayed long enough in Mirkwood go relax and prepare themselves for 
the long journey ahead.  They had stocked up on their supplies and were given wonderful 
capes of elven cloth.  After being refreshed, they began down the road towards the west.  
Legolas trailed behind the others in their journey.  He took in all the feel of the woods 
that could be absorbed into his being.  
 
            When they had left Mirkwood, Legolas stopped from the top of the hills 
overlooking his home.  He whispered an Elvish blessing towards his realm, hopes for a 
bright future and for the evils there not to consume all.  
 
            As he turned and ventured out of sight of the forest, Mirkwood itself lost a little 
more of its magical glow.  
 
  


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