It had been a long and grueling journey with snippets of beauty in the vast lands they traveled. The days and nights were on the cusp of spring and yet still cold, and very muddy. Thunder currently rumbled, and the sky was the color of pewter, another storm was approaching and hopefully twould be the last. Each well-placed hoof of her stallion seemed to suck as it was lifted free only to continue with every step they made. She was tired of hearing the sucking sound for it was monotonous and she was just as sure her stallion had to be as well. Born to horse and bow even she was weary at the long journey and knew her men must be as well. All of them were of Nargothrond, her fallen home. How she missed it so, though she would not say so. At least not aloud. So many places she had traveled, so many places she had seen. Rivendell was a place of great architecture and elegance, Lothlorien's all about nature and grace. But none had compared to Nargothrond for it had been built into a mountain by the hands of dwarves. She missed the sound of steps upon stone, of touching the mountain and feeling its heartbeat. But as Lord Elrond had counseled her...home was where her heart was. And that too was a problem...where was her heart. Her cousin Arwen was happily wed to Aragorn, Elladan, and Elrohir also on the cusp of binding to their chosen. And she...she had been courted. By many. When she had been younger, she had been taken by Orcs and held in a dark hole in the earth. Her screams had ruined her voice, But the earth had comforted her and kept her from losing her mind from her captivity. She had managed to escape though she still bore their mark and had quickly learned black speech from all the insults hurled. Lord Glorfindel managed to keep her voice musical if somewhat smoky. Most elven males were intimidated by her and thought her cold. Others merely were arrogant and slightly cruel, filled with their own sense of worth; these were lesser lords who wanted her because of her high birth and because she was connected to all the major elven lands with the exception of Mirkwood, and would raise their station, their importance. She inhaled a deep breath and felt the bite of it as it entered her lungs before releasing it in a plumed veil which pulled her mind from its wanderings and just in time for up ahead lay Esgaroth.
Esgaroth...the new Lake Town sat some distance from its previous location, but the darkened spires of the Watertown heavily damaged by Smaug during a fierce battle could still be seen. Perhaps it was a reminder of what had happened and could come again. It was a battle she wished she had partaken in, but she had been elsewhere with her cousins Elladan and Elrohir. Her small company spoke among themselves as they neared the shore and the barges that awaited coin to take passengers into Esgaroth which had been rebuilt with great splendor from the treasure hoard the dragon had fiercely guarded. Ranewen, her stallion, pranced sideways tossing his majestic head and causing the eyes of men to take note of their approach and of his heavily muscled body and nimble, quick hooves as they flirtatiously danced upon the earth.
She glanced to her personal guard and tipped her chin in the direction of the men that watched their approach with fascination as they loaded a wagon with large and heavy barrels. The men had seen elves before to be sure. But never had they seen such fine beasts as the six white stallions and the lone single black stallion that was in the center of the group. The black stallion's rider was more delicate and wore a red cloak with the hood up concealing the face in dark shadow while the others rode upon silvery white stallions wore blinding armor of silver, white and red.
Ragnor stroked his short graying beard and held to the tiller of his ferry as it was unloaded and spoke quietly to the men around him. He watched a single snowy stallion boldly approach with an elven warrior upon his back. He had seen plenty of Mirkwood elves during the goods exchange, but he had never seen elves such as this group, for these looked more regal; clearly they were not of Mirkwood. Their armor was very different, and these elves had golden hair, not silver or red. Their shields all bore a great white stag that glistened as the midday sun beat upon them. Aye, this was different, and he would give his years pay that the middle rider in red was an elven lady for she was more petite, her garments even from here were costly and elegantly designed.
As the white stallion pranced to a stop, he had a better look at the cold warrior that now halted before him. "We wish passage into Esgaroth." The tones of Westron were clipped and yet musical, a dialect that again signified this traveling company was not of Mirkwood. This being was similar to the King's son Legolas in looks but not in demeanor. Legolas was quiet and at times filled with humor but Ragnor would bet his barge that this elf never laughed, his eyes were hard and cold and a piercing blue. Again, he stroked his chin and hid a shiver; he looked over his shoulder, while the men about him watched with avid interest. He looked to the city glistening in the midst of the lake as he debated whether to bring them or tell them nay when soft feminine tones, low and husky like the finest whiskey came to his wizened ears. "Please sir, we seek a gift for my father."
He slowly turned back around, and the first thing he saw was eyes that were neither blue nor green, but both, the top of the eye was a startling aqua while the bottom was a beautiful spring green and heavily lashed. Her face so sweetly carved of delicate ivory that he lost his breath. His men were also taken aback by her stunning beauty, and her guardsmen shifted dangerously taking note of the human male's interest.
Ragnor cleared his throat breaking the enthrallment and his men began loading but also keeping an appreciative eye on the elven lady. Elves were truly a sight to behold, and he had only ever seen one other female and that was Tauriel, the woodland kings captain of his guard and oft seen with Legolas. But this elven lady was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. Her lips were full and red, her nose straight, her ears sweetly pointed with silver cuffs about the upper part of her ear and her hair, it was in a very intricate braid twined with red ribbon and fell to the black beast's belly with its length while the elven crown upon her fair brow glistened with some black and milky white stones proclaiming her elven royalty.
The male guard coughed, and it was then Ragnor saw the first signs of amusement in the blue eyes. "Aye, Aye m'lady...O'Course. What gift be ye seeking?" He straightened and held the tiller firm. "But your horses need to stay on land; we have no place to keep them in Esgaroth."
Natulcien nodded at the man and asked if he had a name to which the tips of his ears colored before filling his cheeks rosy. "I be Ragnor M'Lady."
She studied his flush of color and said to him sweetly to ease him "I am Natulcien Inglorion, and I seek a barrel of your famed wine."
As his eyes grew wider, he stammered "Ah...Well ...ye see...we have none at the moment. We are waiting for a shipment in the next few days. It comes from upriver and we trade for it."
Captain Terel looked to the wagon thoughtfully and Ragnor quickly spoke up "That be the Woodland King's share and we are sending it to him while we are awaiting our share."
Natulcien glanced to the wagon being so carefully loaded and frowned for she did not see any guards. Seeing the lady's disappointment, he hastened to add. "But this load is to go to him. However, more will be coming any day now. Ye are welcome to wait as it appears ye have traveled far."
Natulcien glanced to her traveling companions then to the east where the Celduin ran and with it, Mirkwood lay shrouded. She then glanced back to the wagon being loaded with barrels of wine and then to the driver. "Where are your guards?" she inquired for she saw none that would travel with the elven king's wagon.
Ragnor looked to the driver seated in the wagon and suddenly understanding her frown was not in disappointment but with concern. "M'Lady our guards are seeking thieves elsewhere. The driver goes alone."
Natulcien glanced to her Captain of the guard and like her aunt could read his thoughts and projected her own in far speak and he merely tipped his chin. Natulcien turned back to Ragnar and spoke softly "We will be your guards for the short journey to Mirkwood, As I have a desire to visit the Woodland Realm."
Truly it would not be that much farther to ride. An hour or more at most to the forest's edge. Natul had never been to Mirkwood, nor met any of the elves that resided there for she had never traveled this far on her own. Galadriel had been training her to take her place and already it was said that the Dark Witch would be more powerful than the White who was tired and wanted to seek the undying lands. Some of her training with her aunt had skirted Mirkwood and its powerful though oft not seen King. Galadriel had told her that Thranduil did not fully realize his own power yet, but soon he would. As Ragnor spoke again, her musings ended and she focused on the conversation yet again.
Ragnor immediately agreed "Aye M'Lady, my cousin Odo would appreciate the escort for brigands be about and they cause much grief. And we cannot afford to lose the woodland King's wine. You came at a most opportune time." Relief colored his faded eyes as he glanced to his cousin seated in the wagon and who was gathering the reins. Odo nodded his thanks as well and grinned showing several missing teeth. Cleary he was eager and yet cautious to be off and the lady's black stallion was clearly in agreement for he shifted restlessly beneath her.
She lifted her hood and spoke softly "Thank you Ragnor I hope to visit your lovely water city soon and wait for a barrel of wine for my father. If we do not return from Mirkwood, then we have accepted a place to stay there. Please send a missive when we can return for a small cask."
She turned her mount and Ragnor admired the fey beast for surely he must be for he had never seen a more perfect beast... not even the Rohirrim rode such magnificent animals. His face creased with disappointment but then lightened as he heard her say they would return. He would love to escort such a jewel about his beloved city and he sniffed discreetly at his tunic. Perhaps she would not mind his fishy smell so much.
She moved away from the wagons and men as it continued to be loaded and dismounted to stretch her legs. Her guard did the same and pulled their water bags free taking a break with small talk and laughter while keeping an eye upon their lady. She walked the kinks out of her legs and hoped the elven king would allow them a night's respite complete with a hot bath.
For some reason, she felt uneasy and she carefully glanced about looking for what could be causing her disquiet but could find nothing that raised this feeling in her. She looked to the heavens but could not find the young hawk she had healed upon leaving Lorien and wondered where he might be for he still shadowed her. As footsteps approached she glanced to the side to see Terel approaching with a wine skin and behind him, lightning illuminated the heavens and she knew the weather would be ugly.
"The barge master Ragnor thought you might enjoy this skin of wine. It is his personal skin and a gift to you."
Natulcien took the skin and took a small drink, her eyes widening with pleasure. "Oh, tis good! It is sweet and bold, spicy and tastes of spring!" She passed the skin to Terel who also took a mouthful and agreed with her.
"Aye, your ada will like this gift." Natulcien laughed huskily causing everyone to look their way and Terel took her arm and led her farther away. "You seem unsettled, is aught amiss?"
"I am not sure, but something seems off and I cannot place it. It seems planned to me that brigands would attack at the same time the wine for the elvenking is being sent to him. And no guards? Would King Thranduil not send an escort? Or perhaps he is not aware of what passes here? Still we should be on our guard as we escort this wagon of wine."
"Aye and we will," he said nothing further for his mind too was seeking the answer to the puzzle and his eyes restlessly skimmed over the men who had just finished loading.
"The weather will take a turn for the worse." Even as she spoke thunder crackled overhead and a loud boom resounded and the earth shook even as the winds slightly picked up. "We must reach shelter soon." She glanced to the bargeman and saw him too studying the heavens and speaking in low tones to the men and his cousin. Terel agreed and his blue eyes wandered restlessly over the lands seeking what troubled his lady, but he too could find naught amiss.
As they walked back, she offered her own embellished water skin to Ragnor in a gift exchange for his wineskin. He sought to refuse the elegant gift but Natul would not take no for an answer and he admired the beautiful stitchwork of the white stag. "I know ye are not from here, but all of ye have this stag. Where do ye come from and what is this stag to you?"
"Nargothrond. Rivendell and Lothlorien. The great stag is my father's sigil." she said proudly. She quickly mounted and began calling orders to her Captain who then finished the orders and they quickly caught up to Odo who had already pulled off.
As her guard fell in behind her, she rode next to Odo with the wagon. Ragnor watched with trepidation for there was still a band of miscreants loose, for their own guards had yet to return.
He did not call out a warning because by the time he had his wits about him they had ridden well out of earshot and they were traveling at a fast gallop towards the river and beyond it to Mirkwood. He could only watch till the party faded into the horizon and pray they made it without incident.
Author's Note: We hope you have enjoyed the start to our tale. Reviews are always welcome, but please remember - this is OUR story, our fanfiction. We also ask that you be signed in to leave a review as "guest" reviews are moderated.