Chapter 2

Gimli and Legolas had departed from their vast company of friends only two days before, to begin the promised journey through Fangorn Forest. Back when Gimli had discovered the Glittering Caves near Helm's Deep, they had vowed to explore the places that had spoken to each of their hearts. Both Elf and Dwarf had misgivings about the exchange, but a promise was a promise, and Legolas was sure to hold Gimli to his after having seen the Glittering Caves as he'd pledged.

Though Elves were not overly fond of walking underground, concealed from the light of the sky, the Prince of Mirkwood had truly admired the beauty of the gems that shimmered in the walls of the catacombs. The awe it inspired was beyond words, and seeing Gimli's pleasure at his speechlessness had made the trip more than worthwhile. He knew the Dwarf hadn't much liked Fangorn when they had first stepped into its realm looking for the errant Hobbits, but the reappearance of Mithrandir had given them a joyous memory, and Legolas hoped that would fortify his friend should he grow anxious.

He knew he shouldn't worry. Gimli was stouthearted, loyal and fierce, and very little frightened him, but he wanted his friend to be comfortable. Legolas glanced behind him to see the Dwarf several paces away, looking at the great, old trees in fascination. As an Elf, Legolas knew he had nothing to fear from these trees, although he knew some of them to be angry and antagonistic. Travelers avoided this forest altogether; preferring to chance meeting a band of orcs or goblins, rather than risk being lost in the deep of Fangorn. Their four Hobbit friends had told them of their near-demise by the roots of Old Man Willow who dwelt in The Old Forest near the Shire. He could only imagine that fate had befallen many unfortunates in the Third Age with so few Ents to keep the trees in line.

Legolas again looked at his friend and called out to him, "Are you ready to make camp Master Dwarf, or shall we continue on till nightfall?"

Gimli glanced up at his Elven comrade, and concealed the growing trepidation he'd been feeling at the tree he stood before. "Nay, Master Elf, I believe I would prefer to stop here for now," he replied. "We Dwarves are not as quick-footed as the Elves, and tend not to make long journeys on foot if we have no need to. Not to say we are not just as hearty, mind you."

Legolas laughed musically, and walked nimbly to his friend. "Then we shall camp here tonight, Gimli, as you seem weary of taking such small steps," he joked amiably, and Gimli glared at him in mock consternation. Although the two had started out with much enmity between them, as befit the tradition of their races, battle, hardship and tragedy formed a strong bond between the unlikely friends. They competed with each other, but always in good humor, which had helped them both withstand the trials of the past year.

"Why don't you use those light feet of yours to gather us some firewood, Elf? I'll put down our bedrolls and busy myself with tasks more suited for Dwarves," Gimli quipped smartly, and began to dig a small pit for the campfire, so as to not anger or threaten the surrounding trees.

Legolas laughed again, and made his way through the wood, picking up dry twigs from the forest floor. Content to be away from battle and among undisturbed nature, he began to sing softly to himself the songs his people in Mirkwood often sang of Lórien. It was spring now, and he vowed that before he returned home and then ventured back to Gondor, he would walk in that wood without a blindfold this time, and see the beauty of the mellyrn for himself.

He had turned back towards the camp, when his Elven ears heard a distant cry. He stilled, listening intently and heard another cry that held more sorrow than he had ever known in his long life. Dropping his bundle of twigs, he rushed in the direction of the sound, discerning as he drew closer that the voice belonged to a female. The anguished cries continued, until with a final scream of unchecked rage, they quieted. After that, he could only hear soft sobs, and he quickened his pace. It did not sound as if the voice's owner was in any sort of danger, and Legolas could sense none nearby. At last, the sobs ceased, and he walked for five more minutes before coming to a clearing by a stream.

When he broke through the trees he made an odd discovery: a young girl with golden hair lay sleeping on a bed of moss. Her body was lax with exhaustion, and her face bore the traces of tears. She was clothed strangely in tight fitting blue trousers and some kind of knitted light brown tunic with a large cowl at the neck. He silently stepped closer, and noted how tiny she was. Barely taller than a Dwarf, yet delicate and small boned like an Elf.

But what had struck him speechless more than her strange attire or her presence in the woods at all, was the unmistakable cloud of misery that surrounded her. It was a grief that reminded the Elf of the Ringbearer: his weariness and despondency that had come with a heavy burden that left him forever changed.

Legolas' heart constricted at the thought of his friend, Frodo. He and Gandalf had discussed at length the fate of the little Hobbit. Even with The Ring destroyed, Frodo would never be the same. The Elf could see on the sleeping girl the same alienation and weariness that came with having the weight of the world on your shoulders. He couldn't guess what her burden might be, but he was saddened that such a small girl had to bear it.

Legolas shook himself out of his reverie. He couldn't let this young woman sleep here unguarded and vulnerable. Quickly making the decision to take her back to camp, he came to her side and knelt, all the while moving silently, so as not to wake and frighten her. He checked her over for injuries first, and finding none, he took her up in his arms and stood to head back the way he came.

The Elf trod gently through the wood, questions whirling in his mind as to why this girl, who looked so out of place, was here alone among the dangers of Fangorn Forest. The forest lay at the foothills of the Misty Mountains, where goblins still dwelt, and he knew not if they ever ventured in here. Could she have been held captive by them for some reason and then escaped? She didn't look as if she'd spent any time in the deep caverns under the mountains as a prisoner. Her odd clothing was only a bit dirty, and her wrists bore no signs of having been bound, as any captive of the merciless goblins would doubtless have.

As he arrived at the campsite, Gimli looked up from spreading his bedroll, ready to ask what had taken the Elf so long to gather firewood, when he saw his friend carrying a girl.

"I do not think that will be fit fuel for our campfire, Master Elf. Nor does that look like any game for our dinner," Gimli said with a raised brow.

Legolas smiled wanly at his friend's comment and moved to set the girl down on his own bedroll, which had been prepared in his absence. "I found her a short distance from here, Gimli," he explained as he tenderly laid her down. "I heard a sorrowful cry and followed it to find her sleeping by a stream."

"Strange that a young girl should be alone in this forest, of all places," Gimli observed and came over to get a closer look. "She is dressed most oddly. I've never seen garb like that anywhere before."

"Nor I," Legolas agreed. "I know not why she is here, but I am certain it was her cries I heard while I was gathering the kindling." He sat down next to the foundling and crossed his knees, looking at her intently. Gimli sat down as well, observing his friend's concern. "Such cries of anguish she gave, that it nearly broke my heart to hear it," he whispered. "I'm not certain whether she had been in the throes of a nightmare, or merely wore herself out with her weeping." He looked up at the Dwarf, concern and bewilderment evident in his gaze.

Gimli merely shook his head, not knowing what to think. He had thought he heard the call of a strange sort of bird in the distance earlier, but his ears were not as perceptive as the Elf's. Still, he was getting used to being surprised, having seen many wonders and mysteries in the past year. He wondered if this meant that their ramble through Fangorn would be cut short. He knew Legolas would be disappointed, and it troubled him, but he would be glad to be out of the oppressive wood sooner than expected.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the girl's steady breaths as she slumbered. Then Legolas stood and stated his intention to retrieve the bundle of twigs he'd dropped as well as fetch some water from the stream he'd made his discovery by. Gimli pledged to watch over their charge vigilantly, at which Legolas remarked that he'd expected nothing less from his honorable friend, and went on his way.

He returned to find the scene unchanged. Gimli reported that the girl had not stirred, and they set about to start their evening meal of the Lembas, dried meats and fruits they'd packed. They set aside a portion for the girl if she awoke and was hungry, and sat silently as they enjoyed their repast, both thoughtful of this strange turn of events.

When at last, Gimli stretched and yawned, Legolas bade him to turn in while he took the watch for the night. He did not need much sleep, and his mind was too occupied to do so in any case. Gimli laid down on his pallet, closed his eyes and was soon snoring loudly. The girl slept on, undisturbed, and throughout the night, Prince Legolas pondered what the possible twists of Fate could be that had thrown this young woman onto their path.