With the first ripple on the still pool's surface, Legolas became instantly
alert, holding his bow at the ready. He was still a league or more away,
but his elven eyes immediately sensed the movement. He had been scanning
the Mirkwood for intruders as he walked along. So far, all had been as it
was for hundreds of years gone past. This pool had been a place of
solitude and meditation for all his boyhood fears and worries; he knew
every pebble and blade of grass by heart. No fish swam here, no leaves
floating on the surface from the boughs reaching out overhead, so what
could have...? His thought was arrested by a dark form breaking the surface
of the water. A moment later, a puddle of long dark hair floating around
her, a young woman emerged near the bank. Her back was to him, and her
hair covered her ears, but instinct told him she was not elf-kind. He knew
all the folk native to his father's realm. Who was she, and why was she
here, just inside the edges of his wood?
Unaware that she was being watched, Neryssa climbed to the edge of the pool and shook out her clothing. The dress was still too wet to put on, so she spread it out on a large rock and lay down in the fragrant grass to dry. She was starting to feel clean again, as she had not in weeks- not since the attack on her village. The smoke, soot, blood and dirt that had worked their way into her hair, skin and clothing were finally washed clean. She tried not to remember. Neryssa wished that the gentle breezes that lifted the droplets of water from her skin could carry with it the memories as well. Memories of herself and her brother going out to the well together, hearing the screams and hiding in the caves near their home. Memories of her brother running out to find their mother, of him being captured and dragged away by the orcs... She sat up; feeling suddenly chilled despite the warmth of the glade, and hugged her knees. Silent tears trickled down her cheeks. "Oh stop it, Neryssa," she chided herself. "You are a woman of two and twenty winters, no mere babe. What good will crying do you now?" She raised her eyes to look for her shift when she saw him.
An elf, silent and still as the trees. She had not heard the approach of his softly booted feet. Blue eyes such as she had never seen before pierced into hers before he lowered his gaze and turned away. Neryssa realized he was allowing her a bit of privacy to slip into her shift and slippers. She knew the loose woolen fabric still clung in places, and was stained with blood she hadn't been able to get out. She must look dreadful, but it was better than standing naked before this noble creature. She had seen elves, from afar, but none like this one. Tall and slender, he wore a green tunic and leggings, and on his back hung a bow and a quiver of arrows. He also had a small pouch tied to his belt, and what appeared to be two long- handled knives in a sheath on his back. His hair was pale, long and intricately braided-- the shade of the wheat that grew in her homeland. She self-consciously raised a hand to her own wet, tangled mess. She felt short, dark, and a bit too rounded in comparison to his lean frame.
Although he was facing away from her, Legolas couldn't have been more aware of what the girl was doing behind him. He could hear her breath catching in her throat from her crying, and remembered her wet lashes and cheeks. It was not that his own people did not weep- but in their thousands of years of life, they had seen and experienced so much that tears were hard wrought from them. He had not been around many of the race of men, and was curious about this girl, and what had upset her. His father had told him that women from that race cried "at the drop of the leaves", but he sensed the problem here ran deeper than that. Behind him, the rustle of fabric and a gentle clearing of a throat indicated that she was clothed. He turned, assessing what he saw. Auburn hair, starting to curl about her shoulders as it dried. Her eyes were downcast , but he had seen that they were the color of the canopy of leaves that hung over head. Her cheeks were stained with bright flags of red, and she shifted her feet as if embarrassed by his perusal. She was much more rounded of form than elven women, and almost a foot shorter than he was.
"Thank you," her voice was low but clear, startling him out of his inspection. He was unsure whether she was thanking him for the privacy, or for the use of the pool. He stepped closer, stopping a few feet away from her, and sat himself on the edge of the rock. He said nothing.
Although he was looking straight at her when Neryssa finally glanced up, she sensed he was alert to the forest around them, perched on the edge of the rock as if ready to spring at any instant. She had never met anyone quite like him; all coiled energy and quiet poise bound together. She felt awkward, and a little annoyed all at the same time. He had not yet uttered a single word. It occurred her that he might be waiting for an explanation, after all, she was the intruder here, not he. "For the use of your pond,", she continued. "It looked so peaceful and I...I needed...Uh, My name is Neryssa." She fell silent and waited for him to speak. The feeling that she was standing before her Mother, reciting some new lesson, came over her, and she decided to close the distance between them. She sat down a few inches away from him on the rock. She hoped this might jar him from his aloof manner, as well as give her an excuse to avoid those piercing eyes.
"I am Legolas, Prince of this wood. I am curious as to how you journeyed so far into the Mirkwood without being noticed?"
Neryssa felt her jaw drop. "Prince? Oh! I,..." she made a nervous movement to slide off the rock and kneel in the grass before him. When she looked back up, he was smiling.
"Here in the Mirkwood, our kingdoms are not as those in the world of men. You need not kneel, Lady Neryssa." He held out a hand to help her up. She had the feeling that he might be teasing her- after all, nothing about her appearance proclaimed her to be anything other than the common villager she was. Or maybe he was just being courteous.
"I didn't realize I had entered the realm of the elves, Prince Legolas. I have been tracking my brother and a band of orcs these past few days. I lost their trail at a stream a day or so ago, and have been wandering aimlessly. When I saw your pool I could not resist the urge to feel clean again." She did not go into detail, pushing aside the thought of all the blood... At the mention of orcs, Legolas's pensive face changed at once. If possible, his eyes grew even more bright than before. He leapt off the rock. "You will show me where the trail leaves off." Not a question, but a command. His royal blood showing, no doubt. "We must leave at once," he said again, turning to run from the clearing. Neryssa panicked. She caught up to him and grasped him by the shoulder. "Wait, you don't understand, I lost the trail, I have no idea how to go back to it. I was just wandering when I found the pool, following the setting sun each day, so I wouldn't go in circles." Her lower lip trembled, and her vision was clouding again, so she didn't see the succession of exasperation and then patience that crossed the elf's features. She jumped when his hand wrapped around her smaller one. "We will find these orcs who have taken your brother. Tell me, was he injured in the attack?" She saw now that he was looking pointedly at the stains on the front of her shift. There were no tears in the fabric, and he had seen that she moved freely, so he must have concluded that the blood was not her own.
"No, My mother was killed in the attack, I was too late to help her when I found her. Brendyl and I had been able to hide in a cave when they came...he ran out to help her, and I could not hold him. I couldn't help them." The hand that held hers moved up to tilt her chin up. The look in his eyes was compassionate and calming, silently entreating her not to give in to her self-pity. "Tell me what this stream looks like, Neryssa. We will find him" He repeated.
Part Two
After a short walk in the wood, they met up with another elf, this one with dark hair. He kept glancing over Legolas's shoulder, giving Neryssa curious stares. Apparently, elves were no more used to mankind than she was to them. They spoke quickly, in a strange, flowing tongue that Neryssa could not make out. When Legolas spoke to her, he used the Common Speech. He had spoken it so clearly and so well that Neryssa had forgotten it would not be his native elf-speech. She was fascinated, and wanted to hear more, but the conversation was soon over and the other elf disappeared into the wood. "Nerathnil will tell my father where I have gone. He will set scouts around the wood, to watch for these orcs."
As they walked along, Neryssa fought to match his long strides and keep abreast of him, telling him what she remembered of the stream. He seemed to know the area, for he nodded and changed his direction. For most of that afternoon, into the evening, Legolas kept up, what was for Neryssa, a near impossible pace. He seemed never to rest, this elf! As determined as she was not to complain, this was just too much. How did one tell a seemingly tireless elf that you needed to rest, eat something, and um, attend to personal business? It felt like her lungs were just about to explode when he suddenly stopped. Neryssa narrowly missed crashing into his back. "Just let me stand up on my own," she thought to herself. "I am not falling on my face in front of him."
Legolas had stopped to locate a place for them to rest when he caught the sound of the girl wheezing for breath behind him. She had shown amazing courage and stamina today, but he knew she was at the end of her limited endurance. Truth be told, he too was ready to rest his legs. They had perhaps another swift day's run before they would reach the place she spoke of. He turned to tell her they could stop here and make camp. She was leaning over, arms about her waist, and he thought she might be about to lose her stomach, except that he recalled they had eaten nothing all day. He felt a bit chagrined; apparently her people couldn't go a day without food, as elves could do.
"Here, sit down. I have some Lembas and Piria in my pouch." He could not see her reaction to this; the moon was clouded over head, and they had stopped in the shadow of a steep cliff face that rose above the plain. Added to that was the fact that Neryssa's unruly hair had dried into a curly cloud that obscured her face now that her head was bent.
"I don't know what that is, but can you eat it?" She panted. Legolas laughed. "Yes, it is food and drink." He brought out a small bundle tied in leaves, and a tiny vial. Neryssa looked skeptical. One eyebrow rose in question. The two of them were going to subsist on this? And for who knows how long? She felt as if she could eat an entire wild boar by herself at this point, let alone whatever it would take to fill a tall fellow like him. Maybe he planned to use his bow and hunt something for them to eat. She was just considering how she would cook a wild boar out here in the open when she realized he was holding something out to her. It was a tiny crumb of cake or bread of some sort, no bigger than her thumb. She took it and swallowed it down, and was just opening her mouth to ask for more, when a curious feeling came over her. Her surprise must have shown on her face, because Legolas laughed. "Still hungry?"
"Why, No! But how? " "Lembas bread. It is what we use when we travel. One cake doesn't take much room in a pack, but can feed one of us for a whole week. Here, open your mouth." She didn't ask, but did as he told her. Holding the vial above her tongue, the elf let one small drop slip out of the bottle. The moment it touched her lips, her entire mouth felt moist and her thirst was quenched. She clapped her hands in delight. "Well! I've never heard of such wondrous food. I wish I had had this with me earlier. What I brought with me didn't last me three days." It didn't have much of a taste to it, and Neryssa thought after a time she might grow tired of it, but just now she felt full and satisfied. Legolas wrapped the bread and put it back in his pouch, and then sat down and made himself busy with checking the fletching on his arrows, and the edge on his knives. Once again She had the feeling he was allowing her the privacy to go behind the rock and have a moment to herself. She couldn't help but wonder if he was ever going to need the same. Odd people, these elves. They made one feel inferior just by being near them.
Legolas finished his task and repacked his arrows. Inevitably, his thoughts returned to his traveling companion. She had been very brave so far, hardly saying a word although he knew she was exhausted. She impressed him- he had expected to get only half this far with her in tow. He smiled to himself, recalling how her eyes had grown round with surprise when the Lembas bread filled her stomach. He imagined that kind of joy on the face of children- but he had not seen children for such a long time it was hard to remember. Legolas wondered at the age of her brother-he hadn't thought to ask her. She was so obviously saddened by the memories he was loath to bring it up again. And saddened by her own helplessness. He was sure many females in her place would have stayed in the cave and awaited a rescuer- but not Neryssa. She was brave enough to try and become the rescuer herself, and for that she had earned the elf's respect. Legolas was a trained as a scout and a warrior; he had spent many long centuries honing his skills. He had not had time for the gentler path of courtly love. Thus far he had seen no she-elf that inspired him to write songs to her beauty, or even to think of her often. This girl, however, seemed destined never to be far from his thought. How odd- she was nothing like the females he was accustomed to. They were quiet, graceful, sleek as willows, and not given to tears. Neryssa was like a poppy in a field of daisies. She laughed easily, cried when she was saddened, kept a fair pace with him as he ran, and never asked one boon for herself. She had suffered great loss, and yet still held her determination. And gave him her complete trust, though he was a stranger to her. She was a puzzle to him indeed. And that great cloud of hair! No elf had ever had such a curly auburn head of hair as that. As if his mind had called aloud for her, Neryssa appeared from behind the rock, smoothing her shift down around her rounded hips. No she-elf ever walked like that, either. She swayed like a tree in a storm. She was smiling as she sat down beside him, looking for a place to lay her head.
"Wait," he spoke, before the words had even formed in his head, "May I braid your hair for you?" She looked up at him, curious. Men, know how to do a woman's hair? "All elves wear their hair in such a fashion, I learned from boyhood. It is a task my friends and I perform for each other quite often." She shrugged and made a face as if to say, All right, if you insist, and moved closer to him. At first, he was afraid to tug his fingers through the thick curls, afraid he might cause her pain, but she made no noise to stop him. It was more difficult than thin, silky elven hair, to be sure, but soon he had fashioned two braids on the sides of her face. He noticed her head was lolling to one side now, she was so tired. "I need a ribbon or string from your clothing, to secure the plaits,...Neryssa?" Her head would have fallen into his lap had he not held it up by her hair. He quickly plucked a loose string from her sleeve and tied the braid in place, gently lifting her head from his knees and laying her down on the grass. He watched her face for a moment, then rolled up his own cloak and placed it under her head. Without the dark curtain of hair to obscure her, he had ample opportunity to examine her features. She had a short, freckled nose, with a round, tiptilted button on the end of it, and a small round mouth. Her long lashes lay against her cheeks. He remembered the pleasant color of her eyes- the color of his home. Even her hair recalled the shade of tree bark in the afternoon sunlight. With a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips, Legolas leaned back against a large boulder near the cliff face, and dropped into the half-sleep of his people. His eyelids remained open, small slits of glittering blue in the shadows. If anyone came upon their small encampment, he would be ready. Part 3
The noise brought Neryssa up from the depths of sleep, but it was the firm hand on her mouth that made her eyes snap open. She started to fight off her captor before she recognized the man holding her. No, she corrected herself silently -elf, not man. Legolas's voice sounded close against her ear. "Not a sound Neryssa. We need not track your orcs; they have come to us." He was already hauling her to her feet and moving her quickly against the rock face.
"Here, get down and cover yourself. You must make no move." He settled his cloak around her. Legolas crouched down in the shadows beside her, partially covered by the cloak himself. His head and shoulders were free, but she could see that his hand rested on a knife-hilt just visible above his boot. She could hear the low grumblings of the orcs and the shuffling of their armored feet, just a few yards away now. How she wished she could peek out and see if Brendyl was with them, if he were alive and well. She began to tremble in spite of herself. Brendyl could be out there now, and she could do nothing but hide! Legolas must have felt the cloak quivering beside him, for he ducked his head under briefly. Those bright eyes were only inches from her nose. "No movement, Neryssa." His gaze was calming, though his voice was low and stern. Something brushed against her hand, and then he was gone. She looked down to find his knife had been slipped into her open hand.
Legolas had heard the orcs approaching almost an hour before, and now the wait seemed intolerable to him. The sun had not yet risen over the horizon, but he could see clearly in the grey light of the predawn. His cloak bundled beside him looked exactly like the stones surrounding them at the base of the cliff, except that it quivered every now and again. He hoped it was only his elven eyes that could detect that small movement. Although he had left the girl his knife as a precaution, he hoped fervently that she would not have cause to use it. The party was approaching from the west, not from the Orc-lands of the east. They must have continued raiding after they had left Neryssa's village, he thought to himself. There could be more captives, he would have to be careful. He readied his bow and waited. The rising sun was against their backs, but he could just make out a taller figure with a crown of red curls. The lad was tall, almost as tall as he, and appeared to be at least sixteen or seventeen summers, if he was any good at reckoning the ages of men. Had he been elf- kind, he might have been hundreds or even thousands of years old. Legolas melted back into the shadows to be sure he hadn't been detected. He hoped he could double-nock a few arrows and pick off several orcs before they could determine his position. Just then the call of a bird sounded over head, and Legolas glanced up in surprise; he had seen no birds here. From above him, from a small ledge on the cliff face, a green cloaked figure leapt down beside him. The elf took aim immediately.
"Hold! Friend Legolas," A quiet voice spoke in the elvish tongue. Legolas's face split into a wide grin as he recognized the figure.
"Aragorn!" The man pushed back his hood and grasped his friend in a quick embrace before he too drew his bow taut. "Well met, friend!"
"Apparently we track the same party of orcs." Aragorn assessed the distance and calculated the strength of his draw. "Who's that pretending to be a rock over there, may I ask?" What sounded suspiciously like quiet laughter met his query.
"Time enough later for introductions. She is a friend."
"She?" Aragorn's question was interrupted by the near silent twang of his companion's bowstring, followed swiftly by orc screams. He dropped the questioning immediately and joined in the ambush. His first arrow cut the rope binding the hands of a tall youth to the orc who held him tethered. The lad rolled out of the fray, searching for a rock, or anything to attack with. Good boy, Aragorn thought, and tossed him a dagger. Legolas could see no other humans among the throng, and so he drew his knives and leapt into the mass of orcs, slashing and spinning as he went.
Beneath the blinding cloak, Neryssa could wait no more. She peeked out her head to see what was happening around her. The sun was up now, and shone brightly on the horrific scene before her. Orcs seemed to be everywhere. She was not good with sums, but she figured there were at least twenty or thirty of them. And right there in their midst was a whirling blonde fury. Legolas. She gasped aloud at the barely controlled rage on his face. She had never seen anything like it. All that bounded energy she had sensed when they first met had been unleashed with terrific force. It was like watching some beautiful but deadly dancer, gracefully dealing out death. No orc stood in his path for long. He seemed to be a dervish of flying hair and spinning blades. Neryssa would have been afraid of him herself, had he not shown himself to be her friend. This was the same elf who had gently combed her hair with his long, deft fingers- this maelstrom of orc-throat cutting blades. As soon as she could break the spell of watching this Elf warrior wreak his havoc, she realized he was not alone. A man with longish brown hair, a beard, and a long cloak stood with Legolas , wielding a sword with deadly precision. She could see that he had positioned himself at Legolas's back; obviously whoever he was, he was a friend and a godsend. To her left another pale face caught her vision-- this was no grisly orc visage! "Brendyl!" Her brother! Alive, and apparently unharmed, he was stabbing wildly about with a small dagger, trying to free himself from the clutches of large, nasty looking orc. She couldn't just stand by and not help him! Neryssa ran forward, holding the knife out in front of her. She charged at the creature's back. Immediately he dropped Brendyl and clutched at his back. In his agony, the orc spun around to face her, black blood spilling from it's open maw. Oh God, Neryssa thought, I'm going to be sick. Two hands tugged at her shoulders, pulling her backwards as the dead orc fell forward. The hands spun her around til she stared into a pair of wide, incredulous eyes the same shade as her own.
"Neryssa! What are you....? How did you...? " She laughed and hugged her brother briefly, before bending to retrieve the knife. Looking around her, she saw that all but two orcs lay dead or moaning in pain on the rocky ground around them. The other two had their hands bound with rope, and were being held at sword point by the dark-haired man. "I can't believe you tracked me! I thought you were dead for sure!" Her brother, freckled face and unruly mop of red hair, stood grinning down at her, none the worse for wear. "And you even managed to get help from a ranger and an elf warrior!" Legolas walked toward them, a grim look on his face. Neryssa cleared her throat. "Brendyl, I um,..." She wasn't about to tell him she had gotten lost and stumbled blindly into the elven forest. Or that she had been naked and dripping when she had first met this particular elf. Legolas had reached them by this time, and almost imperceptibly shook his head at her.
"Your sister is a very resourceful young woman." Whew, she heaved a sigh of relief. He was not going to tell her secrets. "And you are quite a warrior in the making. There is no shame in being captured in battle, Brendyl. The shame lies in not taking advantage of freedom when the opportunity arises." He clasped Brendyl's shoulder. Neryssa remembered belatedly that she still held his knife. Bending down to find a patch of grass, she wiped the gore from the blade and held it out to him. "Thank you, Legolas.. Oh!" She exclaimed, noting a darkening spot on his arm. "You are injured!" The elf shook his head at her.
"It is nothing. Elven healers are swift to mend such small cuts as this." He moved away again, binding his arm with a torn bit of tunic as he went. The ranger moved to join him. Apparently he had been questioning the orcs. They spoke together quietly for some moments, dark head bending toward fair. Neryssa and Brendyl took the time to themselves, discussing what had happened in the past few days. Brendyl said nothing as she told him of their mother's death. She felt he must have known it, in his heart; that she was gone. Although he had been an emotional, quick-tempered lad when she had last seen him, it seemed the last few days had aged Brendyl in a way that Neryssa could only begin to understand. He seemed quieter, and more settled, although every now and again he would catch her in a big hug and just grin at her. "I missed you too, little brother." He grabbed up a handful of grass and tossed it in her face. "Little! Why, I am still a good arm's length taller than you, Neryssa! Although in weight, I am a bit smaller perhaps- you may be closer to Mother's old cow in that measure..Hey!" This last was caused by a well-placed elbow in the ribs. A voice filled with mirth interrupted their play.
"Hold now, Lass! We did not rescue this poor boy just so you could save the orcs the trouble of beating him to pulp!" She looked up to see that Legolas and his ranger friend had joined them. She did not rise, but leaned back to look up at the newcomer. Legolas looked offended. "Neryssa! Are you not of Gondor's lands? This man is your..." The ranger coughed and interrupted him. "Your kinsman. My name is Strider. ." He and the elf exchanged a silent but meaningful glance." I have been tracking that same party of orcs, wondering what took them from the Orc-lands and toward Isengard." Legolas was thoughtful. "I too wonder at this; Saruman the White has always been an elf-friend.. What business would he have with orcs, or their captive?" "Our "Friends" over there will tell us nothing. I myself have some business with another wizard, at Bree. I shall put this puzzle to him. I think I might just "drag" these two along with me, at least as far as the wood. I might lose them there." He spoke with humor in his voice. Neryssa rose and held out a hand to him, hugging her brother to her side with the other. She instinctively liked this man of Gondor. "Many Thanks for saving my brother's life, Mr. Strider." He laughed. "From what I could see lass, you had a fair hand in that yourself, albeit you were shrieking like a gale wind when you carried out the deed." She gasped and blushed. "I did not scream, did I Brendyl?" Her brother smiled down at her. She punched his arm. "Did I?" "How would I know! All I could think about was the orc with his hands around my throat!" "Then maybe it was YOU screaming, baby brother!" Legolas watched the teasing interplay between brother and sister with a small smile. He and his own friends shared the same warm teasing, especially when trying to best each other at archery, or some other competition. He marveled that these two could endure so much hardship, and still hug and play with ease. Clearly, as his friend Aragorn had shown him, he had underestimated this race of men. It was good to see Neryssa smiling, as she had not been this happy since they had met. "I must get moving toward Bree, then, "Strider said later, as they sat companionably and shared the last of Legolas's Lembas bread. "I promised to meet Mithrandir by sunset day after tomorrow." The name meant nothing to Neryssa, and she shook her head in question. "You may know him by his name in the Common Speech,- Gandalf the Grey." Yes, she had indeed heard that name before. These two were friends of the great wizard? Would wonders never cease. "And you, Legolas, you return to the Mirkwood? I had word from the elf-folk at Rivendell that your um, prisoner has escaped." Legolas stared at him a long moment. "The small pitiable creature my father held in the wood? Yes, he had a great hatred of my people,...I am not surprised he attempted to escape us. But that he succeeded, that does surprise me. I must return home at once." The two of them turned back to Neryssa and Brendyl , as if just now remembering they were also present. Brendyl clasped the dagger to his side, forgetting that it belonged to the ranger and not himself. "You will need help tracking this creature, Elf." He ignored the elbow at his ribs again. "His name is Legolas!" his sister whispered. "Our home is no more, and I find I would love to learn to fight as you do. I will be no trouble to you at all...." His youth was apparent, as he blushed a bright red all the way to the roots of his hair. "Um,..Please." Legolas pretended to be stern as he furrowed his brows together and walked around Brendyl, looking him over from head to toe.
"Yes, you showed courage today. I think you might benefit from the tutelage of the elves. But what of your sister? I am not sure she would be any help to my people at all." Neryssa gasped, and then realized he was teasing. Brendyl, however, answered him as if he had been serious. "She can cook, she has a fair hand with a needle, and she is no so bad to look at, I guess." He ducked another jab. "Never seen her with her hair like that, though."
Legolas stopped his circling and stood in front of Neryssa. "What say you, Orc-tracker? Would you be of any use to elves? You would teach us this cooking and needle-work?" She smiled sweetly. "Oh yes, and also manners, courtesy, ..." she couldn't resist one small jibe. "..and the art of bathing in forest pools..." She swore the composure left Legolas's elegant features, if only for a small moment. Hah, she thought. Neryssa smiled to herself all through the long walk back to the Mirkwood. Life among the elves might prove to interesting after all.
Unaware that she was being watched, Neryssa climbed to the edge of the pool and shook out her clothing. The dress was still too wet to put on, so she spread it out on a large rock and lay down in the fragrant grass to dry. She was starting to feel clean again, as she had not in weeks- not since the attack on her village. The smoke, soot, blood and dirt that had worked their way into her hair, skin and clothing were finally washed clean. She tried not to remember. Neryssa wished that the gentle breezes that lifted the droplets of water from her skin could carry with it the memories as well. Memories of herself and her brother going out to the well together, hearing the screams and hiding in the caves near their home. Memories of her brother running out to find their mother, of him being captured and dragged away by the orcs... She sat up; feeling suddenly chilled despite the warmth of the glade, and hugged her knees. Silent tears trickled down her cheeks. "Oh stop it, Neryssa," she chided herself. "You are a woman of two and twenty winters, no mere babe. What good will crying do you now?" She raised her eyes to look for her shift when she saw him.
An elf, silent and still as the trees. She had not heard the approach of his softly booted feet. Blue eyes such as she had never seen before pierced into hers before he lowered his gaze and turned away. Neryssa realized he was allowing her a bit of privacy to slip into her shift and slippers. She knew the loose woolen fabric still clung in places, and was stained with blood she hadn't been able to get out. She must look dreadful, but it was better than standing naked before this noble creature. She had seen elves, from afar, but none like this one. Tall and slender, he wore a green tunic and leggings, and on his back hung a bow and a quiver of arrows. He also had a small pouch tied to his belt, and what appeared to be two long- handled knives in a sheath on his back. His hair was pale, long and intricately braided-- the shade of the wheat that grew in her homeland. She self-consciously raised a hand to her own wet, tangled mess. She felt short, dark, and a bit too rounded in comparison to his lean frame.
Although he was facing away from her, Legolas couldn't have been more aware of what the girl was doing behind him. He could hear her breath catching in her throat from her crying, and remembered her wet lashes and cheeks. It was not that his own people did not weep- but in their thousands of years of life, they had seen and experienced so much that tears were hard wrought from them. He had not been around many of the race of men, and was curious about this girl, and what had upset her. His father had told him that women from that race cried "at the drop of the leaves", but he sensed the problem here ran deeper than that. Behind him, the rustle of fabric and a gentle clearing of a throat indicated that she was clothed. He turned, assessing what he saw. Auburn hair, starting to curl about her shoulders as it dried. Her eyes were downcast , but he had seen that they were the color of the canopy of leaves that hung over head. Her cheeks were stained with bright flags of red, and she shifted her feet as if embarrassed by his perusal. She was much more rounded of form than elven women, and almost a foot shorter than he was.
"Thank you," her voice was low but clear, startling him out of his inspection. He was unsure whether she was thanking him for the privacy, or for the use of the pool. He stepped closer, stopping a few feet away from her, and sat himself on the edge of the rock. He said nothing.
Although he was looking straight at her when Neryssa finally glanced up, she sensed he was alert to the forest around them, perched on the edge of the rock as if ready to spring at any instant. She had never met anyone quite like him; all coiled energy and quiet poise bound together. She felt awkward, and a little annoyed all at the same time. He had not yet uttered a single word. It occurred her that he might be waiting for an explanation, after all, she was the intruder here, not he. "For the use of your pond,", she continued. "It looked so peaceful and I...I needed...Uh, My name is Neryssa." She fell silent and waited for him to speak. The feeling that she was standing before her Mother, reciting some new lesson, came over her, and she decided to close the distance between them. She sat down a few inches away from him on the rock. She hoped this might jar him from his aloof manner, as well as give her an excuse to avoid those piercing eyes.
"I am Legolas, Prince of this wood. I am curious as to how you journeyed so far into the Mirkwood without being noticed?"
Neryssa felt her jaw drop. "Prince? Oh! I,..." she made a nervous movement to slide off the rock and kneel in the grass before him. When she looked back up, he was smiling.
"Here in the Mirkwood, our kingdoms are not as those in the world of men. You need not kneel, Lady Neryssa." He held out a hand to help her up. She had the feeling that he might be teasing her- after all, nothing about her appearance proclaimed her to be anything other than the common villager she was. Or maybe he was just being courteous.
"I didn't realize I had entered the realm of the elves, Prince Legolas. I have been tracking my brother and a band of orcs these past few days. I lost their trail at a stream a day or so ago, and have been wandering aimlessly. When I saw your pool I could not resist the urge to feel clean again." She did not go into detail, pushing aside the thought of all the blood... At the mention of orcs, Legolas's pensive face changed at once. If possible, his eyes grew even more bright than before. He leapt off the rock. "You will show me where the trail leaves off." Not a question, but a command. His royal blood showing, no doubt. "We must leave at once," he said again, turning to run from the clearing. Neryssa panicked. She caught up to him and grasped him by the shoulder. "Wait, you don't understand, I lost the trail, I have no idea how to go back to it. I was just wandering when I found the pool, following the setting sun each day, so I wouldn't go in circles." Her lower lip trembled, and her vision was clouding again, so she didn't see the succession of exasperation and then patience that crossed the elf's features. She jumped when his hand wrapped around her smaller one. "We will find these orcs who have taken your brother. Tell me, was he injured in the attack?" She saw now that he was looking pointedly at the stains on the front of her shift. There were no tears in the fabric, and he had seen that she moved freely, so he must have concluded that the blood was not her own.
"No, My mother was killed in the attack, I was too late to help her when I found her. Brendyl and I had been able to hide in a cave when they came...he ran out to help her, and I could not hold him. I couldn't help them." The hand that held hers moved up to tilt her chin up. The look in his eyes was compassionate and calming, silently entreating her not to give in to her self-pity. "Tell me what this stream looks like, Neryssa. We will find him" He repeated.
Part Two
After a short walk in the wood, they met up with another elf, this one with dark hair. He kept glancing over Legolas's shoulder, giving Neryssa curious stares. Apparently, elves were no more used to mankind than she was to them. They spoke quickly, in a strange, flowing tongue that Neryssa could not make out. When Legolas spoke to her, he used the Common Speech. He had spoken it so clearly and so well that Neryssa had forgotten it would not be his native elf-speech. She was fascinated, and wanted to hear more, but the conversation was soon over and the other elf disappeared into the wood. "Nerathnil will tell my father where I have gone. He will set scouts around the wood, to watch for these orcs."
As they walked along, Neryssa fought to match his long strides and keep abreast of him, telling him what she remembered of the stream. He seemed to know the area, for he nodded and changed his direction. For most of that afternoon, into the evening, Legolas kept up, what was for Neryssa, a near impossible pace. He seemed never to rest, this elf! As determined as she was not to complain, this was just too much. How did one tell a seemingly tireless elf that you needed to rest, eat something, and um, attend to personal business? It felt like her lungs were just about to explode when he suddenly stopped. Neryssa narrowly missed crashing into his back. "Just let me stand up on my own," she thought to herself. "I am not falling on my face in front of him."
Legolas had stopped to locate a place for them to rest when he caught the sound of the girl wheezing for breath behind him. She had shown amazing courage and stamina today, but he knew she was at the end of her limited endurance. Truth be told, he too was ready to rest his legs. They had perhaps another swift day's run before they would reach the place she spoke of. He turned to tell her they could stop here and make camp. She was leaning over, arms about her waist, and he thought she might be about to lose her stomach, except that he recalled they had eaten nothing all day. He felt a bit chagrined; apparently her people couldn't go a day without food, as elves could do.
"Here, sit down. I have some Lembas and Piria in my pouch." He could not see her reaction to this; the moon was clouded over head, and they had stopped in the shadow of a steep cliff face that rose above the plain. Added to that was the fact that Neryssa's unruly hair had dried into a curly cloud that obscured her face now that her head was bent.
"I don't know what that is, but can you eat it?" She panted. Legolas laughed. "Yes, it is food and drink." He brought out a small bundle tied in leaves, and a tiny vial. Neryssa looked skeptical. One eyebrow rose in question. The two of them were going to subsist on this? And for who knows how long? She felt as if she could eat an entire wild boar by herself at this point, let alone whatever it would take to fill a tall fellow like him. Maybe he planned to use his bow and hunt something for them to eat. She was just considering how she would cook a wild boar out here in the open when she realized he was holding something out to her. It was a tiny crumb of cake or bread of some sort, no bigger than her thumb. She took it and swallowed it down, and was just opening her mouth to ask for more, when a curious feeling came over her. Her surprise must have shown on her face, because Legolas laughed. "Still hungry?"
"Why, No! But how? " "Lembas bread. It is what we use when we travel. One cake doesn't take much room in a pack, but can feed one of us for a whole week. Here, open your mouth." She didn't ask, but did as he told her. Holding the vial above her tongue, the elf let one small drop slip out of the bottle. The moment it touched her lips, her entire mouth felt moist and her thirst was quenched. She clapped her hands in delight. "Well! I've never heard of such wondrous food. I wish I had had this with me earlier. What I brought with me didn't last me three days." It didn't have much of a taste to it, and Neryssa thought after a time she might grow tired of it, but just now she felt full and satisfied. Legolas wrapped the bread and put it back in his pouch, and then sat down and made himself busy with checking the fletching on his arrows, and the edge on his knives. Once again She had the feeling he was allowing her the privacy to go behind the rock and have a moment to herself. She couldn't help but wonder if he was ever going to need the same. Odd people, these elves. They made one feel inferior just by being near them.
Legolas finished his task and repacked his arrows. Inevitably, his thoughts returned to his traveling companion. She had been very brave so far, hardly saying a word although he knew she was exhausted. She impressed him- he had expected to get only half this far with her in tow. He smiled to himself, recalling how her eyes had grown round with surprise when the Lembas bread filled her stomach. He imagined that kind of joy on the face of children- but he had not seen children for such a long time it was hard to remember. Legolas wondered at the age of her brother-he hadn't thought to ask her. She was so obviously saddened by the memories he was loath to bring it up again. And saddened by her own helplessness. He was sure many females in her place would have stayed in the cave and awaited a rescuer- but not Neryssa. She was brave enough to try and become the rescuer herself, and for that she had earned the elf's respect. Legolas was a trained as a scout and a warrior; he had spent many long centuries honing his skills. He had not had time for the gentler path of courtly love. Thus far he had seen no she-elf that inspired him to write songs to her beauty, or even to think of her often. This girl, however, seemed destined never to be far from his thought. How odd- she was nothing like the females he was accustomed to. They were quiet, graceful, sleek as willows, and not given to tears. Neryssa was like a poppy in a field of daisies. She laughed easily, cried when she was saddened, kept a fair pace with him as he ran, and never asked one boon for herself. She had suffered great loss, and yet still held her determination. And gave him her complete trust, though he was a stranger to her. She was a puzzle to him indeed. And that great cloud of hair! No elf had ever had such a curly auburn head of hair as that. As if his mind had called aloud for her, Neryssa appeared from behind the rock, smoothing her shift down around her rounded hips. No she-elf ever walked like that, either. She swayed like a tree in a storm. She was smiling as she sat down beside him, looking for a place to lay her head.
"Wait," he spoke, before the words had even formed in his head, "May I braid your hair for you?" She looked up at him, curious. Men, know how to do a woman's hair? "All elves wear their hair in such a fashion, I learned from boyhood. It is a task my friends and I perform for each other quite often." She shrugged and made a face as if to say, All right, if you insist, and moved closer to him. At first, he was afraid to tug his fingers through the thick curls, afraid he might cause her pain, but she made no noise to stop him. It was more difficult than thin, silky elven hair, to be sure, but soon he had fashioned two braids on the sides of her face. He noticed her head was lolling to one side now, she was so tired. "I need a ribbon or string from your clothing, to secure the plaits,...Neryssa?" Her head would have fallen into his lap had he not held it up by her hair. He quickly plucked a loose string from her sleeve and tied the braid in place, gently lifting her head from his knees and laying her down on the grass. He watched her face for a moment, then rolled up his own cloak and placed it under her head. Without the dark curtain of hair to obscure her, he had ample opportunity to examine her features. She had a short, freckled nose, with a round, tiptilted button on the end of it, and a small round mouth. Her long lashes lay against her cheeks. He remembered the pleasant color of her eyes- the color of his home. Even her hair recalled the shade of tree bark in the afternoon sunlight. With a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips, Legolas leaned back against a large boulder near the cliff face, and dropped into the half-sleep of his people. His eyelids remained open, small slits of glittering blue in the shadows. If anyone came upon their small encampment, he would be ready. Part 3
The noise brought Neryssa up from the depths of sleep, but it was the firm hand on her mouth that made her eyes snap open. She started to fight off her captor before she recognized the man holding her. No, she corrected herself silently -elf, not man. Legolas's voice sounded close against her ear. "Not a sound Neryssa. We need not track your orcs; they have come to us." He was already hauling her to her feet and moving her quickly against the rock face.
"Here, get down and cover yourself. You must make no move." He settled his cloak around her. Legolas crouched down in the shadows beside her, partially covered by the cloak himself. His head and shoulders were free, but she could see that his hand rested on a knife-hilt just visible above his boot. She could hear the low grumblings of the orcs and the shuffling of their armored feet, just a few yards away now. How she wished she could peek out and see if Brendyl was with them, if he were alive and well. She began to tremble in spite of herself. Brendyl could be out there now, and she could do nothing but hide! Legolas must have felt the cloak quivering beside him, for he ducked his head under briefly. Those bright eyes were only inches from her nose. "No movement, Neryssa." His gaze was calming, though his voice was low and stern. Something brushed against her hand, and then he was gone. She looked down to find his knife had been slipped into her open hand.
Legolas had heard the orcs approaching almost an hour before, and now the wait seemed intolerable to him. The sun had not yet risen over the horizon, but he could see clearly in the grey light of the predawn. His cloak bundled beside him looked exactly like the stones surrounding them at the base of the cliff, except that it quivered every now and again. He hoped it was only his elven eyes that could detect that small movement. Although he had left the girl his knife as a precaution, he hoped fervently that she would not have cause to use it. The party was approaching from the west, not from the Orc-lands of the east. They must have continued raiding after they had left Neryssa's village, he thought to himself. There could be more captives, he would have to be careful. He readied his bow and waited. The rising sun was against their backs, but he could just make out a taller figure with a crown of red curls. The lad was tall, almost as tall as he, and appeared to be at least sixteen or seventeen summers, if he was any good at reckoning the ages of men. Had he been elf- kind, he might have been hundreds or even thousands of years old. Legolas melted back into the shadows to be sure he hadn't been detected. He hoped he could double-nock a few arrows and pick off several orcs before they could determine his position. Just then the call of a bird sounded over head, and Legolas glanced up in surprise; he had seen no birds here. From above him, from a small ledge on the cliff face, a green cloaked figure leapt down beside him. The elf took aim immediately.
"Hold! Friend Legolas," A quiet voice spoke in the elvish tongue. Legolas's face split into a wide grin as he recognized the figure.
"Aragorn!" The man pushed back his hood and grasped his friend in a quick embrace before he too drew his bow taut. "Well met, friend!"
"Apparently we track the same party of orcs." Aragorn assessed the distance and calculated the strength of his draw. "Who's that pretending to be a rock over there, may I ask?" What sounded suspiciously like quiet laughter met his query.
"Time enough later for introductions. She is a friend."
"She?" Aragorn's question was interrupted by the near silent twang of his companion's bowstring, followed swiftly by orc screams. He dropped the questioning immediately and joined in the ambush. His first arrow cut the rope binding the hands of a tall youth to the orc who held him tethered. The lad rolled out of the fray, searching for a rock, or anything to attack with. Good boy, Aragorn thought, and tossed him a dagger. Legolas could see no other humans among the throng, and so he drew his knives and leapt into the mass of orcs, slashing and spinning as he went.
Beneath the blinding cloak, Neryssa could wait no more. She peeked out her head to see what was happening around her. The sun was up now, and shone brightly on the horrific scene before her. Orcs seemed to be everywhere. She was not good with sums, but she figured there were at least twenty or thirty of them. And right there in their midst was a whirling blonde fury. Legolas. She gasped aloud at the barely controlled rage on his face. She had never seen anything like it. All that bounded energy she had sensed when they first met had been unleashed with terrific force. It was like watching some beautiful but deadly dancer, gracefully dealing out death. No orc stood in his path for long. He seemed to be a dervish of flying hair and spinning blades. Neryssa would have been afraid of him herself, had he not shown himself to be her friend. This was the same elf who had gently combed her hair with his long, deft fingers- this maelstrom of orc-throat cutting blades. As soon as she could break the spell of watching this Elf warrior wreak his havoc, she realized he was not alone. A man with longish brown hair, a beard, and a long cloak stood with Legolas , wielding a sword with deadly precision. She could see that he had positioned himself at Legolas's back; obviously whoever he was, he was a friend and a godsend. To her left another pale face caught her vision-- this was no grisly orc visage! "Brendyl!" Her brother! Alive, and apparently unharmed, he was stabbing wildly about with a small dagger, trying to free himself from the clutches of large, nasty looking orc. She couldn't just stand by and not help him! Neryssa ran forward, holding the knife out in front of her. She charged at the creature's back. Immediately he dropped Brendyl and clutched at his back. In his agony, the orc spun around to face her, black blood spilling from it's open maw. Oh God, Neryssa thought, I'm going to be sick. Two hands tugged at her shoulders, pulling her backwards as the dead orc fell forward. The hands spun her around til she stared into a pair of wide, incredulous eyes the same shade as her own.
"Neryssa! What are you....? How did you...? " She laughed and hugged her brother briefly, before bending to retrieve the knife. Looking around her, she saw that all but two orcs lay dead or moaning in pain on the rocky ground around them. The other two had their hands bound with rope, and were being held at sword point by the dark-haired man. "I can't believe you tracked me! I thought you were dead for sure!" Her brother, freckled face and unruly mop of red hair, stood grinning down at her, none the worse for wear. "And you even managed to get help from a ranger and an elf warrior!" Legolas walked toward them, a grim look on his face. Neryssa cleared her throat. "Brendyl, I um,..." She wasn't about to tell him she had gotten lost and stumbled blindly into the elven forest. Or that she had been naked and dripping when she had first met this particular elf. Legolas had reached them by this time, and almost imperceptibly shook his head at her.
"Your sister is a very resourceful young woman." Whew, she heaved a sigh of relief. He was not going to tell her secrets. "And you are quite a warrior in the making. There is no shame in being captured in battle, Brendyl. The shame lies in not taking advantage of freedom when the opportunity arises." He clasped Brendyl's shoulder. Neryssa remembered belatedly that she still held his knife. Bending down to find a patch of grass, she wiped the gore from the blade and held it out to him. "Thank you, Legolas.. Oh!" She exclaimed, noting a darkening spot on his arm. "You are injured!" The elf shook his head at her.
"It is nothing. Elven healers are swift to mend such small cuts as this." He moved away again, binding his arm with a torn bit of tunic as he went. The ranger moved to join him. Apparently he had been questioning the orcs. They spoke together quietly for some moments, dark head bending toward fair. Neryssa and Brendyl took the time to themselves, discussing what had happened in the past few days. Brendyl said nothing as she told him of their mother's death. She felt he must have known it, in his heart; that she was gone. Although he had been an emotional, quick-tempered lad when she had last seen him, it seemed the last few days had aged Brendyl in a way that Neryssa could only begin to understand. He seemed quieter, and more settled, although every now and again he would catch her in a big hug and just grin at her. "I missed you too, little brother." He grabbed up a handful of grass and tossed it in her face. "Little! Why, I am still a good arm's length taller than you, Neryssa! Although in weight, I am a bit smaller perhaps- you may be closer to Mother's old cow in that measure..Hey!" This last was caused by a well-placed elbow in the ribs. A voice filled with mirth interrupted their play.
"Hold now, Lass! We did not rescue this poor boy just so you could save the orcs the trouble of beating him to pulp!" She looked up to see that Legolas and his ranger friend had joined them. She did not rise, but leaned back to look up at the newcomer. Legolas looked offended. "Neryssa! Are you not of Gondor's lands? This man is your..." The ranger coughed and interrupted him. "Your kinsman. My name is Strider. ." He and the elf exchanged a silent but meaningful glance." I have been tracking that same party of orcs, wondering what took them from the Orc-lands and toward Isengard." Legolas was thoughtful. "I too wonder at this; Saruman the White has always been an elf-friend.. What business would he have with orcs, or their captive?" "Our "Friends" over there will tell us nothing. I myself have some business with another wizard, at Bree. I shall put this puzzle to him. I think I might just "drag" these two along with me, at least as far as the wood. I might lose them there." He spoke with humor in his voice. Neryssa rose and held out a hand to him, hugging her brother to her side with the other. She instinctively liked this man of Gondor. "Many Thanks for saving my brother's life, Mr. Strider." He laughed. "From what I could see lass, you had a fair hand in that yourself, albeit you were shrieking like a gale wind when you carried out the deed." She gasped and blushed. "I did not scream, did I Brendyl?" Her brother smiled down at her. She punched his arm. "Did I?" "How would I know! All I could think about was the orc with his hands around my throat!" "Then maybe it was YOU screaming, baby brother!" Legolas watched the teasing interplay between brother and sister with a small smile. He and his own friends shared the same warm teasing, especially when trying to best each other at archery, or some other competition. He marveled that these two could endure so much hardship, and still hug and play with ease. Clearly, as his friend Aragorn had shown him, he had underestimated this race of men. It was good to see Neryssa smiling, as she had not been this happy since they had met. "I must get moving toward Bree, then, "Strider said later, as they sat companionably and shared the last of Legolas's Lembas bread. "I promised to meet Mithrandir by sunset day after tomorrow." The name meant nothing to Neryssa, and she shook her head in question. "You may know him by his name in the Common Speech,- Gandalf the Grey." Yes, she had indeed heard that name before. These two were friends of the great wizard? Would wonders never cease. "And you, Legolas, you return to the Mirkwood? I had word from the elf-folk at Rivendell that your um, prisoner has escaped." Legolas stared at him a long moment. "The small pitiable creature my father held in the wood? Yes, he had a great hatred of my people,...I am not surprised he attempted to escape us. But that he succeeded, that does surprise me. I must return home at once." The two of them turned back to Neryssa and Brendyl , as if just now remembering they were also present. Brendyl clasped the dagger to his side, forgetting that it belonged to the ranger and not himself. "You will need help tracking this creature, Elf." He ignored the elbow at his ribs again. "His name is Legolas!" his sister whispered. "Our home is no more, and I find I would love to learn to fight as you do. I will be no trouble to you at all...." His youth was apparent, as he blushed a bright red all the way to the roots of his hair. "Um,..Please." Legolas pretended to be stern as he furrowed his brows together and walked around Brendyl, looking him over from head to toe.
"Yes, you showed courage today. I think you might benefit from the tutelage of the elves. But what of your sister? I am not sure she would be any help to my people at all." Neryssa gasped, and then realized he was teasing. Brendyl, however, answered him as if he had been serious. "She can cook, she has a fair hand with a needle, and she is no so bad to look at, I guess." He ducked another jab. "Never seen her with her hair like that, though."
Legolas stopped his circling and stood in front of Neryssa. "What say you, Orc-tracker? Would you be of any use to elves? You would teach us this cooking and needle-work?" She smiled sweetly. "Oh yes, and also manners, courtesy, ..." she couldn't resist one small jibe. "..and the art of bathing in forest pools..." She swore the composure left Legolas's elegant features, if only for a small moment. Hah, she thought. Neryssa smiled to herself all through the long walk back to the Mirkwood. Life among the elves might prove to interesting after all.