The Shadows That Remain Rating: PG-13
A Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, The Silmarillion fic - CHAPTER02
Shadow Chaser


A sigh of relief escaped his lips. For all the minutes he stood there watching the battle unfold, he thought that he would have to jump in and deal with the Wilder until he saw that things were going to be all right. There were times he had to step in and help the NYPD secretly to lead them in the right direction, but he didn’t really mind. It gave him more time to observe the Reincarnated Ones in a closer proximity.

For Legolas, who was codenamed by his employers Ithilien, he was glad that the two members of the Fellowship were safe. Though he was saddened by the death of the Vernomage as he had known who she was Reincarnated as, he didn’t really let it bother him too much. For the Reincarnation of Gilraen was little use to the plans of his employers. It was cold, callous, icy hearted his ways of thought at this time, but over twenty thousand years old, he wasn’t the young sprightly Elf anymore.

He had changed, grown, and matured and he knew it. His outlook was one of a tinge of sarcasm, but he knew what was at stake. All Elves knew what was at stake. Only the humans, the former race of Men, were the innocent ones, the ones who didn’t really know too much, whose lives were so brief and short on the Earth that they didn’t really have the time to explore the real meanings that kept eluding them. For each one of them they just lived here on the Earth for but a brief moment and it was kind of sad to see them go, after just roughly one hundred years on the planet.

Though some died off quicker than others, he had to admit that in that brief time for each person, they had flourished and failed as a society. The race of humans were weaker than they had ever been. Long gone was the resolve of fighting for good and resisting evil. Now evil was all that most humans knew.

As he turned down a different street, barely lit up by the dim flashing streetlamps, he hugged his tan trenchcoat closer to him, as a fierce cold breeze blew by. Though Elves weren’t really affected by the weather, it seemed that the wind held ill omens, and he felt a creepy feeling run through him. There was something about the whole Wilder attack that didn’t make sense…as if some kind of oppressive evil was working its magic around that area.

He didn’t really dwell on it too much as he filed that piece of information in the back of his mind. Sticking his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat, he let his eyes wander the empty street, well mostly empty save the homeless or runaways scampering around. The blue glow in his eyes were bright enough to cast at least a dim flashlight glow onto the ground he was staring at or at any close object his eyes passed by, but he didn’t need the light as his eyes were fine and had always been.

His Elven eyes, after twenty thousand years needed nothing in terms of glasses or contacts. They were just as sharp as the day he had been born into the world. Except now they glowed blue with the mark of someone who has slain many Technomages. Though he could tell anyone the exact number of Technomages he had slain along with the number of Irimages too, he didn’t like to brag about his killings as some Elves or humans did.

There was only one person he would brag his killings to, but Gimli son of Gloin was long dead. His Reincarnation, however, had no memory of the comradeship they had back in the old days of Middle Earth. His Reincarnation was probably currently in the New York Museum of Natural History, pouring over the artifacts he had recently found on a trip to Egypt.

Legolas shook his head ruefully, remembering the olden days. If he called those days ‘olden’ they were really very old ...

“Not a good time to be spacing out, eh?” a voice sudden said from behind him and Legolas tensed.

He cursed himself silently for not paying attention to his surroundings as he turned his head slightly to see a man with a gun pointed to his back. A few strands of his hair were tinged with white streaks, a sign that he had killed a few Vernomages, while his eyes were a dim green glow, a sign that he had not killed too many Technomages. This man wasn’t really dangerous, but still possessed a certain amount of skill. He was probably just a newbie to killing people.

“Do you really want to kill me?” Legolas replied evenly, turning around so that the barrel of the gun was pointed at his chest. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, but also narrowed his eyes and made sure that the engraved skull on his palm was in clear view of the potential killer.

As it was, the man’s eyes widened as he stared at his skull-palm, which was a very dark black color, almost glittering in the dim streetlight and in the glow of Legolas’ eyes. He knew that humans usually thought other humans with skull-palms were highly trained assassins, and didn’t know them as Elves, but then again, he did look like a regular human with long blonde hair. The only thing that defined him as an Elf was his pointed ears, but with practice, he had managed to manipulate his ears to look more like a human’s round ears than the pointed ones of an Elf.

After all, there was no need to scare the whole population of Earth that Elves did really exist, and that J.R.R. Tolkien’s world was in fact, almost all true.

“Uh ... uh ... ” the man was reduced to a blubbering mess, as his hand holding the gun shook as he slowly backed away, “sorry, man, very sorry ... p-please don’t k-kill me ... ”

Legolas lowered his arms and rolled his eyes, “Get yourself a decent job. You don’t have to be living out in the streets like this. You’ll live longer if you put your skills to good use.” He turned and walked on, his sensitive ears listening as the man tripped over garbage cans and nearly ran over a cat on fleeing the scene.

Sticking his hands once more back into his pockets, he walked on, wishing that he had brought a hat or something to cover his soaked head. Though he wished he could create a shield against the rain using his powers, he really didn’t dwell on it due to the fact that he had rushed out of his apartment after hearing that the squad that the Reincarnated version of Boromir and Aragorn were going after the Wilder that had been bothering them for the last few years or so. He rounded the corner of Mott Street and Bayard, in the former Chinatown section of Manhattan Island. Though still retaining its usual name, the area and probably the rest of New York City, had gone for a bit of renovation. A small Mage war had broken out around five years ago, and rampaging magical creatures had devastated the area. But the building formerly known as Confucius Plaza still stood proudly with its 44 floors intact ... or mostly intact. There were a few floors that looked like they had been literally chewed apart, but the elevators still worked.

He crossed a few debris piles and leapt across some gaping caverns and headed into the tall apartment complex. Passing by a few of the homeless who made their cardboard shelters in the base of the complex, he pressed a button to summon one of four elevators and stepped back. He didn’t have to wait long for an elevator to come down and as the door hissed open, Legolas stepped forward ... then hesitated and stepped back.

He kept his head down and waited quietly as the door closed after a few seconds and the elevator shot back up. Pressing the button again to summon a different elevator, he shook his head ... he had forgotten about one of the elevators ...

As another elevator opened up, he took a quick peek in and seeing that it was all clear, stepped in and pressed the button to the thirty-third floor. As the elevator shot up, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. He released the manipulative magic on his ears, and let out a soft sigh. Running around the whole New York area was frustrating at times, especially with the NYPD, with two members of the Fellowship in constant danger and three who were not part of the fellowship, but still important in equal danger. At least the hobbits were located in one area, Columbia University, and Gimli’s Reincarnation was content in staying at the Museum of Natural History, he didn’t really have to worry about them too much.

The slowing of the elevator made him snap his eyes open and he walked out as soon as it stopped and the doors opened. Legolas suddenly froze as he felt danger all around him. Something wasn’t right here ... something foreign, maybe evil, maybe not, was here. Had he let an Irimage follow him back? Or were Orcs here? He couldn’t tell, but what he could tell was that the evil, or maybe not, emanated from his apartment.

He knew that he couldn’t run, he had nowhere to go and it was getting dangerous as the night passed on. Irimages and all sorts of vile creatures were now on the prowl and even a Technomage of his caliber could not hold off an attack by many Irimages should they come together and decide he was ripe for the picking. No, besides, he was a warrior, skilled and able, he would be able to drive out whatever was in his apartment.

Taking out one of his milky white daggers that he had for so long, ever since he was born, as it was a gift from Cirdan of the Grey Havens, he held it concealed in his palm, the blade resting on his forearm and walked slowly towards his apartment.

He could feel the foreign presence ... there were more than one ... probably four that had invaded his apartment. As he approached his door, he wondered how they got through the barrier of attack spells he had covered his door with. Perhaps it was Irimages that had gotten in ... and if so, he would need more than his dagger to combat them.

Casting a spell to open his door, he tensed and readied his weapon ...

His dagger dropped to the ground as two objects latched onto him, both of them furiously embracing him. He staggered slightly from their weight and tried to reorient himself as he windmilled unsuccessfully and toppled to the ground, the two objects falling down with him.

Jarring pain flash through his back as he saw stars for a brief moment then shook his head to clear them and looked up into the cheery smiling faces of Elladan and Elrohir ... his employer’s twin sons ...

“Hi! So sorry about the glomping,” Elladan apologized cheerfully, a smile on his face, “but you haven’t called or given us your email address.”

“Yes, quite rude, you know,” Elrohir replied equally cheerfully then offered a hand to help Legolas up as the twins stood up themselves and brushed their clothes from the dirt and debris.

He took the hand, looking at them ruefully, and got up. They proceeded to brush the dirt and debris that he had gotten when he batted their hands away. He most certainly didn’t need their help after getting more than his back bruised. His ego was slightly wounded for being caught so off guard and gave them a slight glare, to which they either didn’t notice or didn’t care ... probably both.

“Good to see you too,” he grumbled at them then bent down and picked up his dagger and sheathed it inside of his trenchcoat. The last time he had met the twins was during the Nano Wars, and even back then the twins had matured from being overly fanatical at killing Orcs, to becoming hyperactive almost children-like Elves.

He probably thought that it was an offshoot of finding their mother in the Undying Lands after they had crossed over roughly the time he had with Gimli. And if they possessed the same amount of hyper quality from just a few minutes ago, he wondered what state his apartment was in ...

The twins bounded inside and he followed, preparing himself for meeting his apartment in shambles. He walked in, noticing that the hallway where he kept some of his weaponry, of both guns and a few swords he had acquired throughout the centuries, were intact ... rounding the corner to enter into the main living area, he closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again.

His room wasn’t but a disaster ... it looked like a tornado blew through it.

And sitting in the middle of all the wreckage, of all the Elves, was Haldir, who had the gall to be drinking what suspiciously looked like his last bottle of miruvor that he had been saving. A quiet bubble of anger began to boil within him, and Legolas resisted the urge to scream out loud at the state his whole apartment was in, and instead looked at his best friend, for whom he hadn’t seen since the American Civil War, with narrowed eyes.

“This isn’t your last bottle if you’re wondering,” Haldir didn’t look up from the magazine he was reading, “It’s my own personal one. Went down to the store around the corner and found that they had miruvor ... or what they now called saké ... it’s still not as good as the real thing, anyways, good to see you. Sorry about the disaster zone, the twins couldn’t contain themselves and insisted on exploring your apartment. They did not touch your weapons however, I know you’ve put some magic spells on them ... ”

With such an air of calm, Legolas stared at his friend incredulously then heaved a big sigh and rubbed his forehead. “Just answer this one question before I plan to throttle all of you up the wall and out thirty-three stories to the ground ... How? How did you manage to break through my spell barrier on the door?”

Haldir looked up and smiled then indicated with a nod of his head for Legolas to turn around. He turned around and his jaw promptly dropped slightly in surprise. He hadn’t seen Glorfindel, Elrond’s right hand, since he had left for the Undying Lands.

“Sorry for the break in,” the Eldar replied then glared at the twins who were both tapping the fish tank in the corner of the living room, Elrohir making faces at the fishes who were both curious and scared and kept being attracted to the tapping yet scared at the faces the two Elves were making. “Annoying little Elves born in the Third Age,” he muttered and Legolas raised an eyebrow at the comment.

“Hope that wasn’t for me,” he said and Glorfindel smiled a bit sheepishly.

“Sorry ... they insisted on coming for reasons of ‘throttling you to the wall for not giving your email address’ or something of that nature. Not to mention it’s better to have more than a pair of eyes when in the Black City,” Glorfindel replied, “to answer your question ... you’re a Technomage, so a Vernomage, me being one, effectively cancels the spells you have on your door, simple as that. Though there was one particular spell that was pretty tough. Don’t worry, I’ve added a few of my own personal spells so that when you come with us to the Golden City you don’t have to worry about your apartment.”

“Wait a minute, I’m going where?”

“To the Golden City, Lord Elrond wants to talk with you ... ” Glorfindel replied, a bit business like. Legolas grimaced inwardly; as much as he admired the Eldar Elf, he hadn’t changed since the Third Age ... still Elrond’s ‘enforcer’ and basically everything he should be ...

“It’s like those quarterly reports that you have to make while in big business corporations,” Haldir offered, taking a sip of his sake while flipping a page in the magazine.

Haldir however, Legolas noticed, had changed ... a lot. Gone was the long blonde hair of the Noldorian-Teleri Elf, and in place a stylish slicked back hairstyle, short and raggedly cut. He looked like a professional businessman, except for the ears that separated him from the human race.

Legolas sighed ... he really didn’t have too much of a choice in the matter. If Elrond wanted to talk with him, then why not? He didn’t have much to do at the moment, and with the Wilder situation the NYPD was handling resolved, he knew that if he took a few days in the Golden City, then everything would still be mostly intact when he came back. “All right, just give me a few minutes to get a bit dried off. The weather out there is dreadful.”

“Sure take-”

There was a sudden yelp coming from one of the two twins and all heads turned as they saw Elrohir, taking his finger out of the fish tank, a fish stuck on the tip of his finger. He gave his hand a small shake, but the fish wouldn’t release its hold on his finger. Finally after dunking it back into the water and shaking it, the fish finally let go and swam off.

“Serves you right,” Haldir called towards the twins, Elladan who was snickering at his brother’s mournful expression.

“I knew I should have kept the piranha,” Legolas muttered as he glared once more at the twins who were the cause of the devastation to his apartment before stalking off to his bedroom to clean up a bit.

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To the Story Notes | To the Technical Notes

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