Chapter 1: Lost
Legolas the Elf stepped softly through the woods determined to keep his presence unknown to darker elements. Such forested areas were no safe place at this point, given the somber situation of Middle Earth and her faithful inhabitants. Though the gift of elven grace gave him an assured sense of stealth, Legolas meant to take extra care in selecting his path this time around.
His heart was heavy, and his mind clouded with guilt and uncertainty; it had been days since he lost his place amongst the Company. He tried in vain to remember where he last saw them, but only the memories of heavily falling snow and outrageous winds stayed with him. He imagined they lost one another in the blizzard, though every decent elf would be able to track such an indiscreet group within merely minutes in any given direction. Something beyond his abilities to define had occured, and he believed the Company had fallen into a sinister trap somewhere in the perilous mountains. He knew Frodo; honorable Ringbearer and delightful hobbit would be well protected by Boromir and Aragorn at all costs. Still, he remained unsettled.
He sighed. He kept his bow ready at hand, fearing the worst at every turn. His keen eyes and sharp sense of the living had lead him in every which way. The trees hung lowly, casting an unfriendly shadow about the area. Legolas muttered elvish phrases of comfort to the ambiguous nature that observed him, but even the purest elements seemed dubious. They had seen the evil that lay upon the land, and Legolas didn't expect them to trust so easily.
At last Legolas could see a clearing several miles ahead of him, but before he could take aim in its direction, a sharp movement to his left caught his eye. He slipped quietly behind a large oak, peering anxiously before him to survey the landscape.