The following day, the journey began once again. The elves had returned
during the night, almost jovial because at least part of their quest was a
success. They rode along the trail northwards, following the Bruinen. The
river broke off into two sections. One flowing east brought the traveler to
Imladris. The other section, flowing on a more northerly route, was a
passageway to the uppermost crossing of the Misty Mountains, the High Pass.
The eagle's Eyries where the Windlord kept his home, was north on the far
side of the mountain chain. Gandalf knew that Gwaihir had not come through
the lower passes, and he was now sure the eagle would keep the stone
nearest his own home for the safety of it. Gwaihir knew that in obliging
Gandalf to seek him out, he stood a much better chance in keeping the stone
from harm's way. Yes, King Thranduil had told Gwaihir that Gandalf had gone
to Isodor, but Gwaihir knew that Gandalf would come to knowledge of the
stone's fate eventually and would seek HIM out. The Windlord had played a
smart move. In looking for Gandalf, he would leave himself open to
discovery to more beings than the wizard. And Gandalf was not certain that
others besides Melune were not searching as well. If Kizea was correct
regarding Melune's spell casting, then perhaps Sauron himself was guiding
her along, and any number of beasts and creatures, which stood slave before
the Dark Lord, would be seeking Gwaihir as well.
So their road was then bent on the High Pass, and the group as a whole, was now seeking Gwaihir. Legolas was at ease as well, for it was decided there would be no time to stop for provisions in Rivendell, and he was secretly thankful for the decision.
The horses plodded along the soft forest ground along the Bruinen. Food was plentiful in the late summer and all manners of berries and forest roots were at their height of ripeness. Hardly did they pass a section of the trail that Kizea did not jump from her horse and pick some berries and hand them out to the elves or see some wild carrots for the horses. Gandalf often grew impatient of Kizea's newly acquired behavior, saying:
"My dear, you would fatten these horses till they cannot carry anyone! Leave some of the forest harvest for other travelers! We must press on!"
Much to the surprise of her elven companions, Kizea never spoke harshly in return to Gandalf. She would merely nod and sprint back to her mount and they would continue. It was now late in the afternoon and they all were looking for a place to camp for the night. They had ridden the better measure of 20 miles since early that day, and both Kizea and Gandalf were growing tired of the saddle. The elves, as usual, seemed unaffected. But they were anxious to give their steeds a rest, because of the cold days to come. The sun was beginning to set in the West, producing a magnificent pallet of red and orange colors across the skyline, and a slight wind was gusting down from the north.
Tenmelion pulled the reins of his horse and came to a halt in a large clearing. He visually inspected the general area. A small patch of trees, providing cover from the chilly evening winds, surrounded the clearing. There were ample supplies of water and grass for the horses. Indeed, Kizea had retrieved so much food from the forest that day that no one was really hungry. Kizea gently kicked her horse and rode up alongside Tenmelion in the front.
"This seems a good place to make camp," he said to her, "Soon the black of night will be upon us, and we should rest the horses a while."
Kizea looked around to the trees, and her horse took two steps backwards, whinnying. Alarmed, Kizea leaned forward in her saddle, wondering if a snake had spooked her mount. Suddenly a hail of arrows rained down upon the group from the trees. Tenmelion was hit solidly in the shoulder and fell from his horse to the ground.
"Orcs!" cried Legolas pulling out his bow. Kizea wildly turned her horse around, looking for the source of the arrows. Orcs were beginning to pour from the forest, 15 in all, laughing hideously as they lumbered towards the group. Kerrinais and Legolas used their bows, each arrow hitting its mark with deadly accuracy. Almost as each orc came running from the forest, its sword held high, it would be struck down by one of the elves. An orc jumped from behind a nearby tree. Gandalf whirled around and lifted his staff, but in an instant it was knocked from his hand. He began to fight the creature with his own sword, the sounds of clanging metal resounded through the forest. Tightening her gaze, Kizea suddenly saw a hint of gold on a tree branch. She instantly spurred her horse and rode full tilt towards the glimmer.
"NO! Kizea!" yelled Gandalf.
But Kizea ignored him. Another rain of arrows came down on top of her from the trees, and her horse fell, throwing her to the ground. She struggled frantically to get up but could not budge. One of her legs was pinned beneath her horse. From the corner of her eye she saw something running towards her. Crying out. Kizea threw one of her daggers with all her might in the direction of the movement, without really knowing what she was aiming at. A large orc dropped to the ground, not five feet from where she lay. With the immediate threat over, she propped her free foot against the horse's back and pulled with all her strength. Her foot came free bereft of her boot. Kizea scrambled backwards to her feet, and staggered until her back pressed against the base of a tree. Sticky pinesap clung to her clothes and her hair, but she could not afford to pay any heed to it.
She knew there were others watching her. When pinned underneath her horse, it would've been too easy for Melune to send in four or five creatures in to finish her. But Kizea knew that Melune first wished to play with her a while. In a defensive posture, Kizea clutched onto her one remaining dagger both hands in front of her. Another shower of arrows sailed through the treetops, narrowly missing her, but Kizea did not attempt to dodge any of them. She knew that none would hit any vital parts of her body. Melune would not want her quarry to be mortally injured straightaway, not before she had the stone. And for all Melune knew, Kizea was in possession of it or at least knew where to find it. The tip of one arrow sank deep into the bark of the tree behind her head with a thud. She looked frantically about the treetops, but saw nothing. Kizea was only partially correct in her assumptions. Melune did think that Kizea had some bit of knowledge from Gandalf, but the arrows that rained down upon Kizea were the work of Melune's ill-trained orc slaves, and not Melune herself. Her band of creatures had not the skill to hit their target from atop the trees where the traitorous Fendowan made them lie in wait. But still, Melune's archers achieved their purpose. Kizea was uncharacteristically unnerved, and showed it.
"Coward! I will pursue you no further into the wood than this!" Kizea cried looking wildly about the treetops, "Show yourself, Melune! I know you are here!"
For a second there was no answer. The only sounds to be heard were the clangs of metal from the clearing as the fight raged on between Gandalf, the elves and Melune's creatures. Kizea was not sure from where her foe had acquired the orcs, but it really didn't matter. Kizea's only hope now was to draw Melune out and hope to defeat her in hand-to-hand combat. Against a hail of arrows, she would eventually be beaten, and she was exposed here. Kizea stood erect, pushing herself away from the tree. She looked around the area. There was nothing. Nothing until a sort of screeching, high- pitched laugh penetrated her ears. With a heavy thud, something huge landed directly in front of her. Its feet sank into the soft forest mosses and dirt, which were unable to hold up under its tremendous weight. Its skin was sallow and gray, pockmarked with open sores. The very smell of the creature was overwhelming. It slowly stood erect, laughing its high-pitched laugh.
So incredulous was the sight that Kizea's mouth dropped open and her arms sank in front of her. Kizea's defensive posture was entirely forgotten. She could only stare in disbelief. At the end of each hideous clawed hand was a Fendowan knife. Beyond the scratched and clawed surface of a golden mask were gleaming black eyes. Her misshapen head betrayed fistfuls of matted hair, with large chunks pulled out. The tattered remains of a Fendowan tunic hung loosely about her massive chest.
"You disappoint me, mighty Kizea," the creature hissed, "I had hoped to see more prowess from YOU. Can you not even challenge me?"
Instantly, soft footfalls came rushing through the woods as Legolas positioned himself in front of Kizea. He pulled back hard on his bow and his last row whipped through the air at the creature. With another laugh, Melune instantaneously crossed her daggers in front of her, neatly catching the arrow and stopping it dead in its tracks. Melune then opened her knives and the arrow harmlessly fell to the ground.
Legolas seemed less shocked by the hideous beast than Kizea. His arrows now spent, Legolas pursed his lips and stepped forward, drawing both of his swords. Melune laughed again and began to hum sweetly. It was a curious sort of sound, soft and melodious. The elf likened it to the calming sounds of a stream or the mesmerizing crackle of a wood fire. Legolas blinked his eyes several times and continued walking towards Melune, but he now began to lower his swords. Smiling underneath her mask, Melune took a single step forward. Her daggers were poised, ready to kill the elf.
As she prepared to strike Legolas down, a knarled hand came down heavy upon Legolas's shoulder, jolting him back. The elf looked around confused, as though he did not know where he was.
"Do not listen to the creatures of the dark!" Gandalf ordered sternly. He held up his staff and pointed it at Melune, who screeched with anger.
"Be gone!" he ordered her, "Hath entor esaddath!! Your magic can do no more here!"
Screaming in fury, she looked one last time at Kizea before crouching down and leaping onto the nearest branch of a large oak tree. She continued leaping from branch to branch, but it seemed to Legolas that she simply disappeared from their sight after only three short leaps. Breathing hard, Gandalf lowered his staff, exhausted from his efforts.
"Are you alright?" he asked Legolas, his hand stiff upon the elf's shoulder. Legolas nodded, and then both wizard and elf turned to look at Kizea, who was visibly shaking. She stared off in the direction from where Melune had escaped. Her one remaining dagger lay on the ground where she had dropped it.
"Come!" ordered Gandalf, "We have no time to tarry!"
Legolas had already run up to Kizea, still dumbfounded and bewildered. He pulled hard on her tunic as he sprinted past, and she jerked her head around to stare at the elf. Then looking to the ground, she bent over to pick up her dagger.
"Hurry!" Legolas cried as he ran towards the meadow.
"Go! Go!" Kizea replied, "I will be there anon! I must retrieve my dagger!"
Running to the freshly killed orc, Kizea placed her foot on his chest for leverage and then freed her other dagger. Then she limped over to her horse to retrieve her other boot. She looked into the darkening forest and a sense of dread fell over her. Then she trotted away towards the clearing.
The ambush was not successful, but had materially damaged the group nonetheless. Two horses were dead, and Tenmelion was severely injured. Kizea trotted into the open to find Kerrinais and Gandalf hovering over their fallen friend. Legolas stood by Neonean and Moaanen, warily scanning the area for any further attacks. Gandalf pulled back on the elf's jerkin to assess his wound and Tenmelion moaned grievously. Already it was blackening, although Tenmelion had managed to pull it out during the fray. Kerrinais flashed a concerned look at the wizard, who turned to pick the arrow up off the ground where the elf had cast it.
"Poisoned!" Gandalf said in disgust as he threw the arrow to one side, "And one I do not recognize! We must bring him to Rivendell at once and hope that it is not too late already for Tenmelion."
"We cannot stop our quest!" Kizea blurted out suddenly, "If we delay even a little, the stone may be lost!"
"Kizea is right." Legolas said as he held onto Neonean's neck, "The demon looms on our heels, right under our noses. Kerrinais. Take Tenmelion to Imladris, and then return as soon as you might. I will ride with Kizea to the Eyries. And Gandalf, I cannot sway you to one direction or the other, but Gwaihir would sooner have your council than any of us. I believe you should go with us."
Gandalf sighed, looking down at Tenmelion, then at the horses.
"We will be at a disadvantage if we are divided, but it cannot be helped. The journey will be more difficult with two less horses. Kerrinais, you will bring Tenmelion quicker to Rivendell on your own steed. Go then with him and make haste! Every moment here is a moment wasted for all of us, and time is something that none of us have. I will ride with Legolas and Kizea."
Kerrinais nodded and quickly mounted Moaanen. Then Legolas placed their fallen friend in his arms. Tenmelion seemed no longer coherent, and was whispering to himself in elvish, but no one understood his words. Whispering to Moaanen, the horse whinnied and sped off on the dead run. Kizea stood watching Kerrinais disappear from their sight.
Legolas was already mounted on Neonean and ready to leave. He looked about, worried that Melune or her band of creatures would return. With two less elves in the company now, they would be at a distinct disadvantage. Gandalf, on the other hand, furrowed his eyebrows with disapproval at Kizea. When she realized that he was staring at her, she quickly gazed down to her daggers, seemingly needing to adjust them tighter. Really, she was simply avoiding the uncomfortable stare from the wizard.
"I must get a hold of myself!" she thought, "Such trivialities never bothered me before! A wizard's stare or a looming beast as my foe, it mattered not! I must overcome this fright that overwhelms me!"
Gandalf mounted his horse, and Kizea suddenly found herself as the only one standing without a mount.
"Let us away then," Kizea said, "Worry not for me. I can well keep up with your horses on foot."
But Legolas quickly hopped from Neonean's back and extended his hand to her.
"It would do no good to exhaust yourself," he said, "If another attack should come, we will need all your strength. Neonean can easily carry us both, and she would not mind you on her back."
Kizea stared at the elf, and then sighed. She knew he was telling the truth. Running behind a trotting horse would be exhausting work, though she did not want to admit it. Melune was correct regarding one thing, she had grown weak.
"Very well," she said at last as she stepped forward. But she strutted by him and did not take his extended hand. Instead, she gripped a lock of the horse's mane and pulled herself to Neonean's back. Legolas's eyebrows raised and a slight smile came to his face. Neonean's back was well above Kizea's head. For the elf, who was naturally tall, it was not much of a consequence to mount the gray mare. But Kizea was short in stature, and she nearly had to completely extend her arms above her head merely to grip the horse's mane. Neonean remained perfectly still. And Kizea too, was mildly surprised at how tall Legolas's horse was. In reality, she towered well above all the other horses in the company by several hands.
For the first time, Kizea saw the single braid on each side of her mane, behind each ear. The braids were neatly hidden under the rest of the horse's mane. The Fendowan stared at the braids and then meant to look at Legolas. She had seen his braided hair, but thought little of it until now. However, he was already mounting the horse behind her. A shudder ran through her as he slipped his muscular arms around her waist. He did this more to stabilize Kizea rather than himself. Legolas was an expert at all things, and long had it been since he needed reins on a horse. He gripped Neonean's side with his legs, and whispered in elvish. Neonean sprang into the air, surprising Kizea once again with her power. Gandalf then galloped away in pursuit of Kizea and Legolas. The three were now off to the High Pass and the Eyries beyond.
So their road was then bent on the High Pass, and the group as a whole, was now seeking Gwaihir. Legolas was at ease as well, for it was decided there would be no time to stop for provisions in Rivendell, and he was secretly thankful for the decision.
The horses plodded along the soft forest ground along the Bruinen. Food was plentiful in the late summer and all manners of berries and forest roots were at their height of ripeness. Hardly did they pass a section of the trail that Kizea did not jump from her horse and pick some berries and hand them out to the elves or see some wild carrots for the horses. Gandalf often grew impatient of Kizea's newly acquired behavior, saying:
"My dear, you would fatten these horses till they cannot carry anyone! Leave some of the forest harvest for other travelers! We must press on!"
Much to the surprise of her elven companions, Kizea never spoke harshly in return to Gandalf. She would merely nod and sprint back to her mount and they would continue. It was now late in the afternoon and they all were looking for a place to camp for the night. They had ridden the better measure of 20 miles since early that day, and both Kizea and Gandalf were growing tired of the saddle. The elves, as usual, seemed unaffected. But they were anxious to give their steeds a rest, because of the cold days to come. The sun was beginning to set in the West, producing a magnificent pallet of red and orange colors across the skyline, and a slight wind was gusting down from the north.
Tenmelion pulled the reins of his horse and came to a halt in a large clearing. He visually inspected the general area. A small patch of trees, providing cover from the chilly evening winds, surrounded the clearing. There were ample supplies of water and grass for the horses. Indeed, Kizea had retrieved so much food from the forest that day that no one was really hungry. Kizea gently kicked her horse and rode up alongside Tenmelion in the front.
"This seems a good place to make camp," he said to her, "Soon the black of night will be upon us, and we should rest the horses a while."
Kizea looked around to the trees, and her horse took two steps backwards, whinnying. Alarmed, Kizea leaned forward in her saddle, wondering if a snake had spooked her mount. Suddenly a hail of arrows rained down upon the group from the trees. Tenmelion was hit solidly in the shoulder and fell from his horse to the ground.
"Orcs!" cried Legolas pulling out his bow. Kizea wildly turned her horse around, looking for the source of the arrows. Orcs were beginning to pour from the forest, 15 in all, laughing hideously as they lumbered towards the group. Kerrinais and Legolas used their bows, each arrow hitting its mark with deadly accuracy. Almost as each orc came running from the forest, its sword held high, it would be struck down by one of the elves. An orc jumped from behind a nearby tree. Gandalf whirled around and lifted his staff, but in an instant it was knocked from his hand. He began to fight the creature with his own sword, the sounds of clanging metal resounded through the forest. Tightening her gaze, Kizea suddenly saw a hint of gold on a tree branch. She instantly spurred her horse and rode full tilt towards the glimmer.
"NO! Kizea!" yelled Gandalf.
But Kizea ignored him. Another rain of arrows came down on top of her from the trees, and her horse fell, throwing her to the ground. She struggled frantically to get up but could not budge. One of her legs was pinned beneath her horse. From the corner of her eye she saw something running towards her. Crying out. Kizea threw one of her daggers with all her might in the direction of the movement, without really knowing what she was aiming at. A large orc dropped to the ground, not five feet from where she lay. With the immediate threat over, she propped her free foot against the horse's back and pulled with all her strength. Her foot came free bereft of her boot. Kizea scrambled backwards to her feet, and staggered until her back pressed against the base of a tree. Sticky pinesap clung to her clothes and her hair, but she could not afford to pay any heed to it.
She knew there were others watching her. When pinned underneath her horse, it would've been too easy for Melune to send in four or five creatures in to finish her. But Kizea knew that Melune first wished to play with her a while. In a defensive posture, Kizea clutched onto her one remaining dagger both hands in front of her. Another shower of arrows sailed through the treetops, narrowly missing her, but Kizea did not attempt to dodge any of them. She knew that none would hit any vital parts of her body. Melune would not want her quarry to be mortally injured straightaway, not before she had the stone. And for all Melune knew, Kizea was in possession of it or at least knew where to find it. The tip of one arrow sank deep into the bark of the tree behind her head with a thud. She looked frantically about the treetops, but saw nothing. Kizea was only partially correct in her assumptions. Melune did think that Kizea had some bit of knowledge from Gandalf, but the arrows that rained down upon Kizea were the work of Melune's ill-trained orc slaves, and not Melune herself. Her band of creatures had not the skill to hit their target from atop the trees where the traitorous Fendowan made them lie in wait. But still, Melune's archers achieved their purpose. Kizea was uncharacteristically unnerved, and showed it.
"Coward! I will pursue you no further into the wood than this!" Kizea cried looking wildly about the treetops, "Show yourself, Melune! I know you are here!"
For a second there was no answer. The only sounds to be heard were the clangs of metal from the clearing as the fight raged on between Gandalf, the elves and Melune's creatures. Kizea was not sure from where her foe had acquired the orcs, but it really didn't matter. Kizea's only hope now was to draw Melune out and hope to defeat her in hand-to-hand combat. Against a hail of arrows, she would eventually be beaten, and she was exposed here. Kizea stood erect, pushing herself away from the tree. She looked around the area. There was nothing. Nothing until a sort of screeching, high- pitched laugh penetrated her ears. With a heavy thud, something huge landed directly in front of her. Its feet sank into the soft forest mosses and dirt, which were unable to hold up under its tremendous weight. Its skin was sallow and gray, pockmarked with open sores. The very smell of the creature was overwhelming. It slowly stood erect, laughing its high-pitched laugh.
So incredulous was the sight that Kizea's mouth dropped open and her arms sank in front of her. Kizea's defensive posture was entirely forgotten. She could only stare in disbelief. At the end of each hideous clawed hand was a Fendowan knife. Beyond the scratched and clawed surface of a golden mask were gleaming black eyes. Her misshapen head betrayed fistfuls of matted hair, with large chunks pulled out. The tattered remains of a Fendowan tunic hung loosely about her massive chest.
"You disappoint me, mighty Kizea," the creature hissed, "I had hoped to see more prowess from YOU. Can you not even challenge me?"
Instantly, soft footfalls came rushing through the woods as Legolas positioned himself in front of Kizea. He pulled back hard on his bow and his last row whipped through the air at the creature. With another laugh, Melune instantaneously crossed her daggers in front of her, neatly catching the arrow and stopping it dead in its tracks. Melune then opened her knives and the arrow harmlessly fell to the ground.
Legolas seemed less shocked by the hideous beast than Kizea. His arrows now spent, Legolas pursed his lips and stepped forward, drawing both of his swords. Melune laughed again and began to hum sweetly. It was a curious sort of sound, soft and melodious. The elf likened it to the calming sounds of a stream or the mesmerizing crackle of a wood fire. Legolas blinked his eyes several times and continued walking towards Melune, but he now began to lower his swords. Smiling underneath her mask, Melune took a single step forward. Her daggers were poised, ready to kill the elf.
As she prepared to strike Legolas down, a knarled hand came down heavy upon Legolas's shoulder, jolting him back. The elf looked around confused, as though he did not know where he was.
"Do not listen to the creatures of the dark!" Gandalf ordered sternly. He held up his staff and pointed it at Melune, who screeched with anger.
"Be gone!" he ordered her, "Hath entor esaddath!! Your magic can do no more here!"
Screaming in fury, she looked one last time at Kizea before crouching down and leaping onto the nearest branch of a large oak tree. She continued leaping from branch to branch, but it seemed to Legolas that she simply disappeared from their sight after only three short leaps. Breathing hard, Gandalf lowered his staff, exhausted from his efforts.
"Are you alright?" he asked Legolas, his hand stiff upon the elf's shoulder. Legolas nodded, and then both wizard and elf turned to look at Kizea, who was visibly shaking. She stared off in the direction from where Melune had escaped. Her one remaining dagger lay on the ground where she had dropped it.
"Come!" ordered Gandalf, "We have no time to tarry!"
Legolas had already run up to Kizea, still dumbfounded and bewildered. He pulled hard on her tunic as he sprinted past, and she jerked her head around to stare at the elf. Then looking to the ground, she bent over to pick up her dagger.
"Hurry!" Legolas cried as he ran towards the meadow.
"Go! Go!" Kizea replied, "I will be there anon! I must retrieve my dagger!"
Running to the freshly killed orc, Kizea placed her foot on his chest for leverage and then freed her other dagger. Then she limped over to her horse to retrieve her other boot. She looked into the darkening forest and a sense of dread fell over her. Then she trotted away towards the clearing.
The ambush was not successful, but had materially damaged the group nonetheless. Two horses were dead, and Tenmelion was severely injured. Kizea trotted into the open to find Kerrinais and Gandalf hovering over their fallen friend. Legolas stood by Neonean and Moaanen, warily scanning the area for any further attacks. Gandalf pulled back on the elf's jerkin to assess his wound and Tenmelion moaned grievously. Already it was blackening, although Tenmelion had managed to pull it out during the fray. Kerrinais flashed a concerned look at the wizard, who turned to pick the arrow up off the ground where the elf had cast it.
"Poisoned!" Gandalf said in disgust as he threw the arrow to one side, "And one I do not recognize! We must bring him to Rivendell at once and hope that it is not too late already for Tenmelion."
"We cannot stop our quest!" Kizea blurted out suddenly, "If we delay even a little, the stone may be lost!"
"Kizea is right." Legolas said as he held onto Neonean's neck, "The demon looms on our heels, right under our noses. Kerrinais. Take Tenmelion to Imladris, and then return as soon as you might. I will ride with Kizea to the Eyries. And Gandalf, I cannot sway you to one direction or the other, but Gwaihir would sooner have your council than any of us. I believe you should go with us."
Gandalf sighed, looking down at Tenmelion, then at the horses.
"We will be at a disadvantage if we are divided, but it cannot be helped. The journey will be more difficult with two less horses. Kerrinais, you will bring Tenmelion quicker to Rivendell on your own steed. Go then with him and make haste! Every moment here is a moment wasted for all of us, and time is something that none of us have. I will ride with Legolas and Kizea."
Kerrinais nodded and quickly mounted Moaanen. Then Legolas placed their fallen friend in his arms. Tenmelion seemed no longer coherent, and was whispering to himself in elvish, but no one understood his words. Whispering to Moaanen, the horse whinnied and sped off on the dead run. Kizea stood watching Kerrinais disappear from their sight.
Legolas was already mounted on Neonean and ready to leave. He looked about, worried that Melune or her band of creatures would return. With two less elves in the company now, they would be at a distinct disadvantage. Gandalf, on the other hand, furrowed his eyebrows with disapproval at Kizea. When she realized that he was staring at her, she quickly gazed down to her daggers, seemingly needing to adjust them tighter. Really, she was simply avoiding the uncomfortable stare from the wizard.
"I must get a hold of myself!" she thought, "Such trivialities never bothered me before! A wizard's stare or a looming beast as my foe, it mattered not! I must overcome this fright that overwhelms me!"
Gandalf mounted his horse, and Kizea suddenly found herself as the only one standing without a mount.
"Let us away then," Kizea said, "Worry not for me. I can well keep up with your horses on foot."
But Legolas quickly hopped from Neonean's back and extended his hand to her.
"It would do no good to exhaust yourself," he said, "If another attack should come, we will need all your strength. Neonean can easily carry us both, and she would not mind you on her back."
Kizea stared at the elf, and then sighed. She knew he was telling the truth. Running behind a trotting horse would be exhausting work, though she did not want to admit it. Melune was correct regarding one thing, she had grown weak.
"Very well," she said at last as she stepped forward. But she strutted by him and did not take his extended hand. Instead, she gripped a lock of the horse's mane and pulled herself to Neonean's back. Legolas's eyebrows raised and a slight smile came to his face. Neonean's back was well above Kizea's head. For the elf, who was naturally tall, it was not much of a consequence to mount the gray mare. But Kizea was short in stature, and she nearly had to completely extend her arms above her head merely to grip the horse's mane. Neonean remained perfectly still. And Kizea too, was mildly surprised at how tall Legolas's horse was. In reality, she towered well above all the other horses in the company by several hands.
For the first time, Kizea saw the single braid on each side of her mane, behind each ear. The braids were neatly hidden under the rest of the horse's mane. The Fendowan stared at the braids and then meant to look at Legolas. She had seen his braided hair, but thought little of it until now. However, he was already mounting the horse behind her. A shudder ran through her as he slipped his muscular arms around her waist. He did this more to stabilize Kizea rather than himself. Legolas was an expert at all things, and long had it been since he needed reins on a horse. He gripped Neonean's side with his legs, and whispered in elvish. Neonean sprang into the air, surprising Kizea once again with her power. Gandalf then galloped away in pursuit of Kizea and Legolas. The three were now off to the High Pass and the Eyries beyond.