Chapter 7 - Moving Forward Part 2

Gildor rode along side Legolas, silently studying the son of the Thranduil. He wondered what could be troubling the elfling; Anorlir had briefly spoken of ill tidings surrounding the young Prince, excusing his less than enthusiastic behavior. A letter for Elrond, explaining the details lay resting safe in the folds of his tunic beside the missive from Cirion of Gondor.

From Gildor's understanding Legolas had never left the forest. The elfling was quiet, too quiet for a child witnessing the world for the first time. Hidden under his thick grey-green cloak, the child had barely spoken a word. Gildor could have sworn he even saw his hands tremble.

He carefully eyed Legolas up and down, wondering at the boy's appearance; he had briefly seen a strand of golden hair before his guard quickly tucked it away. Upon the horse the youth sat stiffly and looked more than awkward. Surely Legolas had been on a horse before. If not, things could be problematic once they reached the mountains. He would have to remember to inquire at a more suitable time when Legolas was more comfortable.

Any attempts Gildor had made to make short conversation were received with nervous one-worded answers. It bothered him to no end. It had been centuries since he had seen an elf as young as Legolas, yet Legolas was shy and quiet. From how the sons of Elrond had described, Gildor had expect to be bombarded with curious questions and mindless chatter by now. He had to find a way to break this child out of his shell.

They rode on for the better part of the day, Gildor called a stop once they reached a small ridge overlooking the Anduin and Misty Mountains beyond. Gildor nodded towards his men to quickly check the area before turning towards Legolas. He watched with a hidden smile as Legolas awkwardly dismounted his horse, confirming his previous judgment that Legolas had not ridden much.

Gildor dropped the reins of his horse, allowing it roam free and motioned for Legolas to do the same. Together they sat upon the ridge, admiring the beauty of the Wilderlands. Gildor surveyed the area. It was a clear day. The snow had long melted and the early spring flowers were just starting to bloom. He took in a deep breath. The silence was both tense and awkward.

Looking up at the sky, his face spread into a soft smile.

"Pen-neth, look," he pointed, earning Legolas' attention as he lead his gaze to the sky. "Eagles," he explained.

As Legolas turned his gaze up a light breeze blew through the air taking with it the hood from his cloak. Gildor nearly gasped as long waves of golden hair were released from hiding, bringing with it a fair completion and rosy cheeks. Grey eyes with flecks of crystal blue were seen, Gildor compared them to that of the sky they beheld. The son of Thranduil was very fair indeed, Gildor surmised with a small smile.

When Legolas turned toward him, Gildor saw there was a grave sadness hidden behind those crystal eyes. Gildor, who did not even know the child, wanted to reach out and take that pain away wondering who could have hurt such an innocent soul.

"My father would sing to see such a sight," Legolas shared in a soft voice. Gildor smiled to himself.

Suddenly noticing the blowing of his hair, Legolas immediately made to replace his fallen hood. Gildor reached out to stop him.

"You need not put that back on," he said, his grip light upon the Legolas' wrist. "We are blessed with a beautiful day. No longer are you hidden under the shade of the forest. Why not feel the sun upon your face and the wind in your hair?"

"My father said I was to wear it," Legolas whispered. Gildor was relieved. It was better than the one-worded answers he had been receiving.

"Do you not find it uncomfortable?"

Legolas hesitated. "It is warm."

"Why do you not take off the cloak?" Gildor urged. " You shall not need till we reach the front ranges of the Hithaeglir. We are alone, spies of the enemy do not stray this far north."

That seemed to be the correct thing to say, after a moment of deliberation, Legolas forwent his cloak, taking it off and folding it neatly beside him. After that he seemed to relax.

"Tell me now, are there not any questions you wish to ask?" Gildor hinted, satisfied the youth finally seemed more at ease.

Legolas looked at him, his eyes sparkled with curiosity. " May I?"

"Tis no trouble. The road is made longer when travelled in silence."

Legolas nodded, thinking for a moment. So many questions burned within him he did not know which ones to ask first.

There was a moment of quiet thought. "Are there many spiders nearest Imladris?"

Gildor raised an eyebrow, eyeing the elfling. Legolas' expression was serious. There was no hint of a jest in his eyes.

"Nay," he replied. "These lands are free of from kin of Ungoliant, Destroyer of the Trees. Only in the Eastern Forest are they seen. And kept at bay."

"Oh," came the somewhat relieved but also surprised reply.

"Tis the Goblins in the mountain passages we must be concerned about," Gildor said. "In ever growing frequency their hoards bar the passages. Many are left impassible."

"The land is so open here. It is strange. There are so few trees," Legolas determined. Gildor examined him; the son of Thranduil was defiantly peculiar. He had an innocent nativity to him.

"You will see the world is different from what you are used to. We have tarried here long enough," Gildor said, standing up. "I am eager to return, for I do not like the air on this side of the mountains. We are too far from the Sea, my heart yearns for it," he explained, reaching down to give Legolas a hand up.


"I have never seen the stars shine as brightly as they do right now," Legolas said. Everything outside of the forest seemed so much brighter. His first night out of the forest was cloudless and cool. They took rest upon the banks of the Anduin. Legolas felt as though he were surrounded within a dome of stars, mesmerized by the true valor of the Vale of Elbereth. The stars were comforting. The land may have changed, it was the stars that had stayed the same always looking down upon him.

Legolas looked over as Gildor once again sat beside him. The old elf had a powerful presence, much in the likeness of is father. With every thoughtful gesture and every kind word, the small threads of trust slowly started weave their way through Legolas' heart.

"The closer to the Sea we travel, the brighter the stars shall become," Gildor replied. "I remember a time when they were much brighter."

"So they are brighter in Imladris?" Legolas asked as curiosity grew within his eyes.

"They are. On the calmest of nights they are reflected through the stillness of water. In one of the pools lies a rock, standing upon it is as though you are surrounded by stars."

"Your home, Imladris, sounds so lovely," Legolas replied in awe.

"Imladris is one of the fairest places in Arda," Gildor said. "But she is not my home."

His eyes shone with an ancient longing, Legolas realized much like his father's did when he had asked for stories of Doriath.

"My true home is lays across The Great Sea. Here in Arda I am exiled to wander ever hearing her calls through the sweet scent in the wind, till it is time for my kin to leave these lands. If there is a need to settle, it'd be in Mithond nearest to the shores. "

"Would you tell me of it? Your home, I mean."

"Such things should not be spoken of out in the wild," Gildor replied in a low whisper.

Legolas must have looked quite defeated for Gildor quickly, added, "I shall tell you of Imladris, for that is where we are headed, and there is much of it to know."


Legolas gaped in wonder, simply awestruck by the magnificent sight before him. The day was warm just as the sun slowly moved across and behind set behind the peaks of the Misty Mountains. After three and a half days of heavy riding they had finally made their through the Wilderlands, across the Anduin and over to the Mountains.

Hidden from plain sight within the front ranges, they stopped for much needed and deserved rest. Legolas was thankful for this short reprieve. As much as he did not wish to openly admit it he was exhausted. He walked through a patch of grass and low growing soft jasmine shrubs, breathing in the clean air. It was a strange and beautiful place to him. He found himself content, surprised that he was not afraid, there was no lingering darkness in the air, nor did he sense any danger. He kept his bow close, noticing that Gildor too always had a weapon at hand; his long sword.

Legolas quickly made his way over to tree line of their small clearing where the fir and pine trees grew. Their needles were different than the leaved trees he had grown up with. Running his hand overtop of them he was surprised at their softness, expecting them to be sharp.

Closing his eyes he pressed his forehead against the bark and listened. The tune the trees sang was different from the once at home. For a moment he felt sad, wishing the trees at home sang this joyfully. It was a powerful tune, strong and full of life. Legolas found himself overwhelmed by the pure energy of it, forcing himself to pull away. His head span fast, Legolas quickly sat down. He brought his knees up to his chest, resting his cheek upon them. Closing his eyes, he took deep breaths, hoping to overcome the powerful sense of vertigo he felt. Not knowing what was happening to him, he tried not panic, wishing with all his heart his father was here to explain these things to him. Back at home, everyone had some connection with the trees and the forest, his father's was the strongest and most controlled.

"Legolas, pen-neth, are you well?" Legolas looked up and saw Gildor standing before him.

Legolas inhaled a deeply and nodded. "The trees here are different. They sing freely without shadow," he tried to explain, and then added, "I just am tired."

Gildor nodded in agreement. "The ride today was longer than I had anticipated. Do you hunger? We had managed to shoot down a few rabbits. Come," he offered.

Legolas reached out for Gildor's extended hand, allowing the older elf to pull him to his feet. Legolas did not let go of Gildor's hand once he was on his feet, instead gripping it tighter. His head swam and he could feel a pounding in his ears. He panicked as a wave of anxiety flashed through him, swaying dangerously on his feet.

"Gildor, I do not t-think-," Legolas closed his eyes feeling himself fall before he was able to finish his sentence.

Expecting this, Gildor easily caught him, lowering him to the ground.

"Aye, pen-neth," Gildor whispered, smoothing some damp hair away from Legolas' face. "It must be hard for you," he whispered. "To see the sun after living your whole young life amongst shadow. I expect it must be quite overwhelming."

Gildor, pulled out a cloth, damp with water from his canteen, he gingerly whipped the sweat away from Legolas' brow and cooled his clammy cheeks. The child was cool to the touch, Gildor wondered at this. He sang softly as he gently placed a hand upon Legolas' cheek and over his chest. He channeled his energy, softly calling Legolas awake.

After a moment, Legolas slowly blinked his eyes open, his cheeks growing unmistakably red from embarrassment.

Thoughts raced through Legolas' mind as he tried to think up an explanation. He quickly tried to sit up but Gildor stopped him, gently place a hand atop his chest.

"Rest for a moment. You will be overwhelmed again if you try to stand so quickly," he explained in a soft murmur.

"Gildor I-I," Legolas lowered his eyes in shame, inhaling deeply. "I am sorry. I do not know what happened."

"Do not apologize," Gildor soothed. "All is well."

After a few moments Gildor slowly helped him to sit up, giving him some water from his canteen.

"Just like your eyes must adjust to the brightness of a new light, so must your spirit to the light of the world."

Legolas nodded. He did not hate the feeling. It was joyous, his heart sang in tune with it, but the power it beheld over him was strong.

Gildor softly smiled. "Do not let this dampen your spirits. Your are sensitive to the environment. In time you will grow accustomed to all the light has to offer and shall walk upon it unhindered. For now, allow me to give you aid."

Gildor was kind, placing a great amount of trust in him, Legolas allowed this ancient and powerful elf to help him up and walk him back to their tiny camp. Once Legolas was seated, his cloak was pulled out of his pack and securely wrapped around his shoulders. Legolas hid beneath its warmth as he was handed a plate of food and a mug of warm tea. Gildor lent him his own cloak for additional warmth, unaffected by the chill evening breeze.

The mood around the small fire was joyous. Legolas did not allow his exhaustion to prevent him from laughing along with the others as Nimel, Gildor's second in command shared tales of Imladris, telling him all the things he would see and do.

Legolas looked around the group with a smile. They had done much to make him feel comfortable in the short time they had travelled together. His last thoughts were of contentment before he lay down to take his nights rest. His face falling into a soft smile because they did not know.


Legolas soon discovered the Misty Mountains were aptly named. The day was chill as a thick layer of fog covered their path. Clouds blocked out the light of the sun, so different were they from the branches of trees at home. Legolas tightened his cloak around himself, his hood once again brought to its rightful place shielding his face from sight. He did not like this place, he felt caged surrounded by walls of towering grey rock. If they were to be ambushed there were few places to hide. This made Legolas uneasy.

His senses were constantly on edge, he could not help but to feel something were to go wrong. He could feel a lingering shadow in the air, and wished to all but hide from it. But he was out in the open.

His heart was beating so fast in his chest Legolas was sure Gildor could hear it, for Gildor had turned over to him and gave him an encouraging smile.

"All will be well," Gildor said. "For I feel it too, but the tall peaks of Hithaeglir tend to echo shadow from far off."

Legolas nodded but did not feel any better. He would not be satisfied till he was once again beneath the warm branches of a tree. Tears built within the corners of his eyes. What would Gildor think if he ever found out what Legolas had done? Legolas would lose was little friendship and trust he had built with this elf over the short amount of time they had known each other.

The pressure of the air increased and Legolas did not think he could bear it. So akin it was to that time with Brégil, Legolas squeezed his eyes shut his heart not wanting to recall. His mind betrayed him as images of Brégil laying upon the ground with spiders upon him surged through Legolas as a dam breaking, releasing torrents of water.

Legolas fell from his horse, balancing on his hands and knees he retched, releasing the contents of his stomach. His eyelashes were damp and he closed his eyes as he fought back the memory. He would not let them control him. How he wished for his father.

It took him a moment to register a gentle had upon his back supporting him and realized Gildor was speaking softly to him, surrounded by the others who where all equally concerned. Legolas leaned into the warm body, comforted by the strong presence. He focused on Gildor, as the ancient elf kept his torments at bay.

Gildor did not say anything, silently waiting for Legolas to calm. Legolas was grateful; he was in no mood to talk. Slowly Legolas regained his breathing and sighed heavily.

"I cannot, I cannot be here," he whispered. Seeing Gildor's concerned face, Legolas could only shake his head and try to prevent the tears from falling.

Gildor seemed to understand. He led Legolas to his horse and helped him onto it, before mounting in front of him.

"You shall ride with me," he softly said, "and we shall make great haste. Hold on, I shall not have you fall again."

Legolas obeyed, wrapping his arms tightly around Gildor's waist. Pressing his cheek against Gildor's back. Legolas closed his eyes as he let the world pass him by as Gildor skillfully maneuvered his way through the winding paths of the mountain pass.