They had been two weeks upon the road and Legolas was growing weary of waybread and scavenged food. Had Thranduil his way Legolas would be travelling with a large retinue, including a cook to attend his every culinary whim and for just a few moments, upon rousing from dreams, the Prince of Mirkwood was beginning to see his father's point of view.
Had Legolas his way he would have been travelling alone but he had done so before only to be attacked by orcs upon the very borders of Imladris. Thranduil had never forgotten, so Legolas now travelled with a personal guard, when he did not care to give them the slip. Today he travelled in the simple garb of an archer in an attempt to hide his lineage. Orcs would attack any elf but they would take perverse delight in taunting Thranduil of Mirkwood if they managed to capture or kill his son.
"The sun is setting," Haradrenor noted as he poured water upon the embers of their breakfast cooking fire.
"As it does most days," Pethon replied with an ironic twist of his lips. He stuffed drawing materials into his pack.
Legolas smiled as he fastened the last buckle on his quiver harness. The two could be relied upon to jibe each other at every opportunity but it was always good natured. They had been Legolas' personal guard for some time and despite the difference in their decent, Legolas being of the Sindar and his guards of the Silvan; the three got on well from the moment they were thrown together by their ruler.
"We should reach the fords of the Anduin before moonrise if we walk swiftly and do not tarry overmuch to admire the scenery," Legolas observed.
Pethon scowled. "I limited my drawing and writing to our midnight break yester eve. We lost no time and will lose no more tonight."
"Well, be sure that is so. You are supposed to be my guards and this feels more like a hobbit walking party." Legolas picked up his bow and followed Haradrenor.
"What is a hobbit? And whatever is a walking party?" the one time Lorien elf asked over his shoulder.
Legolas grinned. "That's right. You did not join our people until after the Battle of Erebor. You may know them as Perrian or Halflings. They live west of the Misty Mountains and have a love of field and pasture. They also like to walk for pleasure, or so I am given to understand; although not beyond the borders of their own lands." He added pointedly, "Where they have no need to watch for orc, goblin or other dangerous folk."
"Sounds like a good place to go for a holiday. Not being chased by spiders, orcs or trolls sounds appealing," Pethon suggested as he scanned behind them.
"Well, talking of not being chased . . . we can return meat to our menu once we have forded the river. The Beornings are not interested in protecting the animals outside their lands. At least that is one danger we avoided without a fight." Legolas pointed to a rocky outcrop on the horizon where what appeared to be a huge bear was silhouetted against the fading pale grey glow of the sunset.
"I did not know there were any Beornings left to avoid until a few days ago," observed Pethon.
"Hush!" Haradrenor hissed as he fitted an arrow to his bow.
As one they moved to form a triangle, weapons drawn and eyes looking outward.
"What do you hear?" whispered Legolas.
"Breathing," Haradrenor replied.
"It is all around us," added Pethon, his voice hardly louder than a breath in itself.
"And we have been all around since you arose." The owner of the voice came out from behind a thicket of gorse, along with several others. They were elves, but clad in the grey of Lorien. "What brings Mirkwood elves so far west?"
Legolas lowered his bow and his guard followed suit, although Pethon kept his arrow nocked. "We have no need to answer your questions. What brings the guards of Lorien so far north?"
One of the grey company stepped forward. "I am called Orophin. We had word of a large party of orcs moving down the western shores of Anduin and came to investigate. We were returning when we heard your voices on the wind. Now that you have my name and our business will you give me yours?"
"I am called Legolas and we are on our way to Imladris to deliver a message to Lord Elrond from King Thranduil." Such was the introversion of Thranduil's kingdom that Legolas' felt safe in the knowledge that his position would not be known by name alone, outside the borders of Mirkwood.
Orophin pressed. "Does this message contain anything of import for Lorien?"
Legolas shook his head. "It is a personal matter and presages no threat to your land." Indeed, he could imagine no serious threat to any realm ruled by Galadriel and Celeborn, least of all from a creature as weak as Gollum. "Did you find your orcs?"
"We followed their tracks as far as the entrance to a tunnel west and a little north of the fords and decided it would be safer not to enter. We are only a scouting party and who knows how many more lurk in those caves. It may be that Lord Celeborn will instruct us to return with a larger force."
"We will keep our eyes open for the orcs."
"And your ears I hope." Orophin waved his troop on before surprising Legolas by bowing low to the three. "We will leave you to your errand and wish you safe travel, Prince of the Woodland Realm." With a knowing smile he turned and followed his warriors into the night, their clothing soon rendering them invisible even to elven eyes.
Legolas narrowed his eyes at Haradrenor whose own eyes widened. "Do not look at me. I told them nothing. Orophin always knows more than he says. He and his brothers are high in Celeborn's esteem for good reason."
Pethon dropped his arrow back into his quiver. "Perhaps we should dispense with conversation for a while. We need to pay closer attention to our surroundings."
"Especially if there is a possibility of encountering orcs once we cross the river," added Haradrenor with a grimace.
Haradrenor – southern male
Pethon – word male