The sun began to wane in the distance behind them and they had not yet come
to the rocky eastern road that would lead them down the other side of the
Misty Mountains. Legolas had taken the lead, having crossed this way many
times in the past. Gandalf was also a veteran of the High Pass crossing.
Often using it on his travels to the Hobbit shires or the Elven homes. But
now he passively took the rearguard with more concern of the cold than
anything else. In the bright daylight, there would be no orcs or goblins,
and he doubted, correctly, that they would not dare to venture over the
pass in wild pursuit. Come daylight, there was little coverage for hiding
against the sun's burning rays, and the creatures of Sauron despised the
sun. Surveying the area, Legolas suddenly stopped Neonean and dismounted,
walking some distance in front, looking this way and that. Craggy boulders
of all sizes littered the mountainside and Legolas knew they must be close.
Still there was something odd to him, and he walked forward regarding the
ground with some curiosity.
"What is it?" called Gandalf.
"I cannot tell," Legolas replied in a loud voice looking around, "The trail is here, but there is something about the placement of these rocks is not right."
Legolas walked further down an embankment, leaving Neonean at the top of the hill.
"Legolas, come back!" called out Gandalf again, "We may go around!"
Almost the moment he stopped speaking, there came rising up from the ground beneath his feet a low, steady rumbling noise. It was almost like the rush of a great waterfall, smashing down upon rocks in a gorge below, or perhaps a giant tree that being felled. At once, Legolas began to climb back up the steep hill, but was having difficulty for the ground shaking. The horses whinnied, and Kizea, jerking her head from side-to-side, reached down and yanked her daggers from their sheaths. Boulders began to give way and topple down the hillside towards the elf who was busily trying to steady his feet. Gandalf looked quickly about the area, and whispered under his breath.
"Shazoul!"
Smaller rocks, the size of a fist, flew by the elf's head with mere inches to spare. Looking on with growing alarm, Kizea watched helplessly as Legolas lost his footing and sank into the ground; a gaping hole opening up beneath him. Legolas scrambled to pull himself free of the widening pit, and he clutched and clawed at anything near him. Thin rasps of weeds merely pulled free in his hands. His lower body was already fallen through the growing fissure, and unable to dodge the tumbling boulders, he was now an easy target.
"Legolas!" cried Kizea leaping from Gandalf's horse. She shoved her daggers back into their sheaths with hardly a second glance, forgetting to fasten them properly as she ran towards their companion.
"Kizea, wait here!" Gandalf called out to her, "It is too dangerous!"
But the Fendowan was already sliding down the hillside, and paid no attention to Gandalf's calls. She was nearly to the elf when she saw a craggy outcropping a few feet above him. Kizea skidded to a halt at the outcropping, and placed her boot against a large, solid rock that jutted out of the hillside. Smaller rocks, set loose from somewhere above pummeled her back. Leaning outward, she called to the elf to grab her outstretched hand, but she was still too high. Only the very tips of their fingers touched.
She turned her head for a mere second to gaze up the mountainside to see if anything bigger was in their path. Almost instantly, a large, jagged stone struck her squarely in the face. She cried out and reeled backwards, but she was more stunned than harmed. Kizea shook her head and regained her composure. Then she gazed back at Legolas. He was now holding onto a loosening rock face with his very fingertips. The elf had only moments before his grip would give out and he would go tumbling into the abyss.
Kizea cried out and sprang to her feet, running towards the elf. She bent low as she flew past him, grabbing his forearms and pulling him up with all her strength. The momentum of force caused his entire body to emerge instantly from the edge of the huge chasm. But when she pulled Legolas from the holes' rim, the ground began shaking even more, and the two stood for a split second on the precipice, teetering between standing upon solid earth and falling into the deepening pit. In an attempt to throw Legolas's weight in a better direction, Kizea leaned over and grabbed the elf's waist, leveraging him over her hip to her left side. It was a wrestling move that she had practiced often when training, but she never thought to use it until now. The idea worked perfectly, and the surprised elf was now in a position where both of his feet were on firm, albeit shaky, ground. Still there was one casualty of which Kizea was unaware. One of Kizea's daggers came loose from her belt and disappeared into the blackness.
Grabbing Kizea's arm, Legolas stepped backwards away from the cavernous opening. Thrown off balance by the move, and the two fell uncontrollably down the steep hillside, amidst the rocks and dirt of the continuing landslide. 120 feet below, the mountainside smoothed out. Legolas came to a halt on his back, dazed and momentarily confounded. Stones hurled past him, glancing off his side and legs. Once she had stopped rolling, Kizea frantically looked about to find her companion. He was not moving. Almost frenzied, she crawled on her hands and knees to the elf and flung herself over him, covering his face and upper torso with her own. She covered the back of her head with her hands and waited. Again, rocks pelted her all along her body, but she did not cry out or move from her position, but steeled herself against the onslaught.
Then, almost as soon as it had begun, the rockslide was over, and all was oddly quiet again. Kizea and Legolas remained stationary for some moments. At last the elf coughed and realized that a weight lay over his chest. Opening his eyes, he slowly circled his slender arms about Kizea's waist, and gently pulled her off to one side. She fell on her back with a slight moan. The elf then sat up. He was covered with dust and scrapes, but was otherwise unhurt. Blinking against the dust of falling rubble, Legolas stared up the 120 feet of hillside from where the two had plunged. An enormous pit had opened up, 3/4 of the way to the top, 15 feet wide. Kizea opened her eyes to find the elf standing over her, his hand extended. This time, she gladly took it, and he helped pull her to her feet. Kizea rubbed her leg with a bruised and bloodied hand.
"Are you alright?" he asked her earnestly. She nodded in reply and gazed up the hill.
"Quite alright," Kizea replied, "I do not seem to recall there being such a cavern on this part of the trail."
"There wasn't." Legolas replied looking around.
Glancing back at Kizea, he raised his hand and touched her mask. A gouge, 2 inches long was deeply cut into the gold by the rock that had struck her face. Legolas realized that without her mask, Kizea would have been killed trying to save him. His piercing blue eyes sparkled at her as a small smile came to his lips, but she did not notice. Her eyes were scanning the ground.
"My daggers!" Kizea said weakly, "I must find my daggers!"
Her hands came to rest on a small pocket beneath her tunic. It was empty. Frantically, her fingers fumbled into the empty pocket and she let out a small cry of dismay. Oblivious to the elf's presence, Kizea began scanning the ground at her feet, kicking frantically through the loose rock. Her distracted manner caused Legolas to look around the ground as well, though he assumed it was her daggers for which she was searching. Behind the girl, Legolas spied a glint of red, and he stepped around Kizea to retrieve one of her knives. As he bent over to pick it up though, his keen eye caught sight of one more thing. Slowly his hand stretched forward and he pulled the item from the dirt. His mouth dropped open and he stared in disbelief as he held Kizea's hidden token in his trembling hand.
Spinning around to face the Fendowan, who was still searching the ground where they stood, the incredulous elf held out the item to her. She looked up saw of his ashen face, and thought perhaps he had been hurt in the rockslide after all. Then she saw in his outstretched hand her sacred and personal keepsake, a braid of auburn and flaxen hair, intertwined and tied. It was her only memento of her past existence, and Kizea guarded it jealously. Valnin had told her that she had died with it in her grasp, and she knew it must have been a love token from her mate. Stepping quickly up to the astounded elf, Kizea angrily grabbed the braid from his outstretched hand and shoved it into her pocket. Her reaction was more of embarrassment than anger. For no Fendowan was permitted to retain any piece of their past lives while in the stone's service, and although there was a time when Kizea didn't think much of the token, she kept it with her in secret, nonetheless.
"How did you come by this?" Legolas whispered, his voice nearly breaking for the fear and excitement within his heart.
"It is not your concern!" Kizea snapped. She shoved the strand further down into her empty pocket as if to make sure of its safety. Her eyes gazed downward and suddenly she did not want to face the elf. Such an outburst was unbecoming of a Fendowan master, and she was embarrassed by her behavior. Yet, she could not apologize. Instead, in a subdued voice, she simply offered up an explanation of sorts to the expectant elf.
"In my very hand it was when the stone of Anor brought me to life, and though I was compelled to discard it by my order, but I retained it without their knowledge. I cannot tell you why. My half-brother told me it was a remnant of my former existence, and as such, I would not part with it. I can only guess it was given to me by my husband at some time or other. As I told you before, I thought I was married. What is the matter with you, master elf? Are you injured?"
For now the blood had completely drained from the elf's face. Tears welled in his eyes. As Kizea stood bewildered before him, he fell to his knees before her, shaking uncontrollably. He seemed to stare completely through her. Legolas said nothing, but wrapped his arms gently around Kizea's legs and pulled her in close to him. He buried his face in her stomach, weeping, and she heard him whisper a single elvish name over and over. Nevariel.
Kizea raised her hand and gently placed in on the elf's head, not knowing what further she could do to comfort him. His behavior was disconcerting, but Kizea felt that her braid of hair reminded him of some past dalliance, and he was overcome. But she did not equate it with the fact that he thought he knew her.
"Who is Nevariel?" Kizea asked softly, "Did this token remind you of someone?"
Legolas laughed slightly as he stifled a sob.
"Do you remember nothing?" he said pulling himself tighter to her.
But Kizea remained confounded by the elf's behavior. Her mind was more set upon finding her sacred daggers. She simply did not see the significance of it all, and she remained blind to the elf's tears. Not so with Gandalf. By now, the wizard had negotiated the hill and was riding quickly up to them. He stopped short, amazed upon seeing the elf so obviously overcome and clinging to the puzzled girl. Gandalf knew that something grievous had just happened.
"Legolas!" he ordered sternly. The elf pulled back and looked over to the wizard. Gandalf was shocked at the expression on Legolas's face. It was as though the elf had seen a mercurial apparition.
"Legolas," Kizea said gently pushing him away from her, "We must leave this place. It is not safe."
The elf nodded, but before he stood he closed his eyes and whispered an elven prayer so softly, that even Gandalf could not make it out. Then Legolas touched his forehead with his fingers and placed his hands on Kizea's boots. Gandalf was now greatly alarmed. Such a display of intense emotion was extremely rare for the woodland elves, and unheard of for the even-tempered Legolas. Gandalf really had no idea what had transpired between the two on the mountainside, but Legolas was in essence, vowing his eternal devotion to the baffled Fendowan. Should she attempt destroying the stone of Anor as she previously had promised, Legolas and he would have to stop her by any means necessary, even unto killing Kizea. Now Gandalf stood in doubt as to whether Legolas could carry out such an extreme mission. Worse yet, he even sensed that now Legolas would help her if she begged him. Gandalf resolved to find out what had transpired, but now was not the time. They had great need of leaving the area as soon as possible.
Gandalf half wondered if Kizea was stronger magically than he originally thought, and that she had placed a spell on the elf. He knew that Melune's Fendowan voice, even distorted as it was, caused the elf to completely let his guard down.
Of course, Gandalf had no knowledge of Legolas's love for Nevariel. Gandalf had never actually seen them together in Imladris, and he was not present at the Battle of Isodor, where Nevariel had fallen to betrayal and death. Only Kerrinais knew of Legolas's grief, and he was not there to enlighten the wizard. After the battle, it was Kerrinais who helped his friend in the frantic search for the young queen in the remote castle of Isodor. It was there where Legolas discovered her body, cast over the battlement to the ground below. It was Kerrinais who watched as Legolas intertwined the strands of his own hair with Nevariel's, placing them into her cold hand. Even as the young queen was born away from the battlefield by her half- brother Valnin, and two other members of her army, she clutched in death at the strand of braided lock, taking with her all of Legolas's desires, heart and hope. It was the most wretched day of the elf's long existence. To see the selfsame strand of braid again, and to know that the only person who could have such a favor was Nevariel herself, simply overwhelmed the elf.
Neonean came trotting up them, and happily nuzzled the back of the elf's head. Being a horse of some cleverness, she had strayed clear of the landslide until all was quiet, then she bounded towards her master without having been called. Standing up, Legolas brushed himself off and walked over to pick up the Fendowan dagger that he had left on the ground. He extended it to Kizea, handle first, and smiled at her.
"I believe this is yours," he said to her.
Kizea took the knife and placed it in the sheath on her belt. Though they spent some time searching for the second dagger, it was not to be found. The sun was waning fast in the west, and the final, deep red rays of the day seemed more warming. At last, Gandalf prodded the two into continuing the journey. The hour was growing late, and they needed to make a camp for the night further down the mountain, away from further mishaps.
"This is Melune's doing," Kizea said loudly to Gandalf as she scanned the ground, "She is too cowardly to follow us across the light and airy snow capped mountains, so she sends her magic to do her work."
Gandalf nodded looking around nervously.
"Her reach has grown long," Gandalf said to them, "We must proceed with caution as we approach the Eyries. She will be watching and waiting. Her desire to obtain the stone of Anor for the Dark Lord is greater now that we are drawing close to it."
"Are you sure you are alright?" Kizea said to Legolas quizzically as they prepared to leave, "Were you not perhaps hit in the head by a rock?"
Legolas grinned, shaking his head. The very thought of such clumsiness in an elf amused him. But he said nothing further to her of her identity. Kizea was a Fendowan warrior now and had cast aside all of her former existence, even though she had talked of it in secret to him. The elf decided it was the better part of intelligence not to make any further statements to her on the subject until the time was right, if indeed it ever came. But the mere thoughts of destiny bringing his Nevariel back to him in such a way, made the elf positively giddy.
"No," he mused, "I am well. But I thank you for your aid my lady. Today is turning out to be a fortunate day for me indeed."
"Take greater care in the future," Kizea admonished as she pulled herself onto Neonean, "I cannot afford to lose my last dagger. The next time I'll not jump off a cliff to save you!"
"Nor would I want you to." he smiled.
Without any effort, Legolas now gladly mounted Neonean behind Kizea. Observing the elf, Gandalf frowned once more. Legolas seemed to know what the wizard knew, that Kizea was actually Queen Lisaine, although Gandalf seemed less sure. The wizard thought that Legolas's happiness was reflected in his realization that he traveled with the Lossenladwen (Queen of Courage), a true elven celebrity. So named in elven song in the years following the Battle of Isodor, for her aid in the elves fight against Rakal. The queen had re-united with her decimated army after Rakal had nearly destroyed them all in the Anduin. But instead of riding back to reclaim her kingdom, the young queen, who loved all things elven, rode against Rakal's overwhelming forces in Isodor. It was this single act that saved the elves at the last moment, but cost the queen dearly. It was for that sacrifice that she was thus revered among the elves. Gandalf was sure this explained Legolas's odd behavior, but he remained puzzled as to how Legolas suddenly knew.
Gandalf spurred his horse, and the riders bounded down across a small ravine. A worn, well-traveled road that disappeared into the distance was now before them. Traveling would be easier now. They had made the crossing over the High Pass, and continued north along the eastern foothills of the Misty Mountains, towards the Eagles Eyries and Gwaihir the Windlord.
"What is it?" called Gandalf.
"I cannot tell," Legolas replied in a loud voice looking around, "The trail is here, but there is something about the placement of these rocks is not right."
Legolas walked further down an embankment, leaving Neonean at the top of the hill.
"Legolas, come back!" called out Gandalf again, "We may go around!"
Almost the moment he stopped speaking, there came rising up from the ground beneath his feet a low, steady rumbling noise. It was almost like the rush of a great waterfall, smashing down upon rocks in a gorge below, or perhaps a giant tree that being felled. At once, Legolas began to climb back up the steep hill, but was having difficulty for the ground shaking. The horses whinnied, and Kizea, jerking her head from side-to-side, reached down and yanked her daggers from their sheaths. Boulders began to give way and topple down the hillside towards the elf who was busily trying to steady his feet. Gandalf looked quickly about the area, and whispered under his breath.
"Shazoul!"
Smaller rocks, the size of a fist, flew by the elf's head with mere inches to spare. Looking on with growing alarm, Kizea watched helplessly as Legolas lost his footing and sank into the ground; a gaping hole opening up beneath him. Legolas scrambled to pull himself free of the widening pit, and he clutched and clawed at anything near him. Thin rasps of weeds merely pulled free in his hands. His lower body was already fallen through the growing fissure, and unable to dodge the tumbling boulders, he was now an easy target.
"Legolas!" cried Kizea leaping from Gandalf's horse. She shoved her daggers back into their sheaths with hardly a second glance, forgetting to fasten them properly as she ran towards their companion.
"Kizea, wait here!" Gandalf called out to her, "It is too dangerous!"
But the Fendowan was already sliding down the hillside, and paid no attention to Gandalf's calls. She was nearly to the elf when she saw a craggy outcropping a few feet above him. Kizea skidded to a halt at the outcropping, and placed her boot against a large, solid rock that jutted out of the hillside. Smaller rocks, set loose from somewhere above pummeled her back. Leaning outward, she called to the elf to grab her outstretched hand, but she was still too high. Only the very tips of their fingers touched.
She turned her head for a mere second to gaze up the mountainside to see if anything bigger was in their path. Almost instantly, a large, jagged stone struck her squarely in the face. She cried out and reeled backwards, but she was more stunned than harmed. Kizea shook her head and regained her composure. Then she gazed back at Legolas. He was now holding onto a loosening rock face with his very fingertips. The elf had only moments before his grip would give out and he would go tumbling into the abyss.
Kizea cried out and sprang to her feet, running towards the elf. She bent low as she flew past him, grabbing his forearms and pulling him up with all her strength. The momentum of force caused his entire body to emerge instantly from the edge of the huge chasm. But when she pulled Legolas from the holes' rim, the ground began shaking even more, and the two stood for a split second on the precipice, teetering between standing upon solid earth and falling into the deepening pit. In an attempt to throw Legolas's weight in a better direction, Kizea leaned over and grabbed the elf's waist, leveraging him over her hip to her left side. It was a wrestling move that she had practiced often when training, but she never thought to use it until now. The idea worked perfectly, and the surprised elf was now in a position where both of his feet were on firm, albeit shaky, ground. Still there was one casualty of which Kizea was unaware. One of Kizea's daggers came loose from her belt and disappeared into the blackness.
Grabbing Kizea's arm, Legolas stepped backwards away from the cavernous opening. Thrown off balance by the move, and the two fell uncontrollably down the steep hillside, amidst the rocks and dirt of the continuing landslide. 120 feet below, the mountainside smoothed out. Legolas came to a halt on his back, dazed and momentarily confounded. Stones hurled past him, glancing off his side and legs. Once she had stopped rolling, Kizea frantically looked about to find her companion. He was not moving. Almost frenzied, she crawled on her hands and knees to the elf and flung herself over him, covering his face and upper torso with her own. She covered the back of her head with her hands and waited. Again, rocks pelted her all along her body, but she did not cry out or move from her position, but steeled herself against the onslaught.
Then, almost as soon as it had begun, the rockslide was over, and all was oddly quiet again. Kizea and Legolas remained stationary for some moments. At last the elf coughed and realized that a weight lay over his chest. Opening his eyes, he slowly circled his slender arms about Kizea's waist, and gently pulled her off to one side. She fell on her back with a slight moan. The elf then sat up. He was covered with dust and scrapes, but was otherwise unhurt. Blinking against the dust of falling rubble, Legolas stared up the 120 feet of hillside from where the two had plunged. An enormous pit had opened up, 3/4 of the way to the top, 15 feet wide. Kizea opened her eyes to find the elf standing over her, his hand extended. This time, she gladly took it, and he helped pull her to her feet. Kizea rubbed her leg with a bruised and bloodied hand.
"Are you alright?" he asked her earnestly. She nodded in reply and gazed up the hill.
"Quite alright," Kizea replied, "I do not seem to recall there being such a cavern on this part of the trail."
"There wasn't." Legolas replied looking around.
Glancing back at Kizea, he raised his hand and touched her mask. A gouge, 2 inches long was deeply cut into the gold by the rock that had struck her face. Legolas realized that without her mask, Kizea would have been killed trying to save him. His piercing blue eyes sparkled at her as a small smile came to his lips, but she did not notice. Her eyes were scanning the ground.
"My daggers!" Kizea said weakly, "I must find my daggers!"
Her hands came to rest on a small pocket beneath her tunic. It was empty. Frantically, her fingers fumbled into the empty pocket and she let out a small cry of dismay. Oblivious to the elf's presence, Kizea began scanning the ground at her feet, kicking frantically through the loose rock. Her distracted manner caused Legolas to look around the ground as well, though he assumed it was her daggers for which she was searching. Behind the girl, Legolas spied a glint of red, and he stepped around Kizea to retrieve one of her knives. As he bent over to pick it up though, his keen eye caught sight of one more thing. Slowly his hand stretched forward and he pulled the item from the dirt. His mouth dropped open and he stared in disbelief as he held Kizea's hidden token in his trembling hand.
Spinning around to face the Fendowan, who was still searching the ground where they stood, the incredulous elf held out the item to her. She looked up saw of his ashen face, and thought perhaps he had been hurt in the rockslide after all. Then she saw in his outstretched hand her sacred and personal keepsake, a braid of auburn and flaxen hair, intertwined and tied. It was her only memento of her past existence, and Kizea guarded it jealously. Valnin had told her that she had died with it in her grasp, and she knew it must have been a love token from her mate. Stepping quickly up to the astounded elf, Kizea angrily grabbed the braid from his outstretched hand and shoved it into her pocket. Her reaction was more of embarrassment than anger. For no Fendowan was permitted to retain any piece of their past lives while in the stone's service, and although there was a time when Kizea didn't think much of the token, she kept it with her in secret, nonetheless.
"How did you come by this?" Legolas whispered, his voice nearly breaking for the fear and excitement within his heart.
"It is not your concern!" Kizea snapped. She shoved the strand further down into her empty pocket as if to make sure of its safety. Her eyes gazed downward and suddenly she did not want to face the elf. Such an outburst was unbecoming of a Fendowan master, and she was embarrassed by her behavior. Yet, she could not apologize. Instead, in a subdued voice, she simply offered up an explanation of sorts to the expectant elf.
"In my very hand it was when the stone of Anor brought me to life, and though I was compelled to discard it by my order, but I retained it without their knowledge. I cannot tell you why. My half-brother told me it was a remnant of my former existence, and as such, I would not part with it. I can only guess it was given to me by my husband at some time or other. As I told you before, I thought I was married. What is the matter with you, master elf? Are you injured?"
For now the blood had completely drained from the elf's face. Tears welled in his eyes. As Kizea stood bewildered before him, he fell to his knees before her, shaking uncontrollably. He seemed to stare completely through her. Legolas said nothing, but wrapped his arms gently around Kizea's legs and pulled her in close to him. He buried his face in her stomach, weeping, and she heard him whisper a single elvish name over and over. Nevariel.
Kizea raised her hand and gently placed in on the elf's head, not knowing what further she could do to comfort him. His behavior was disconcerting, but Kizea felt that her braid of hair reminded him of some past dalliance, and he was overcome. But she did not equate it with the fact that he thought he knew her.
"Who is Nevariel?" Kizea asked softly, "Did this token remind you of someone?"
Legolas laughed slightly as he stifled a sob.
"Do you remember nothing?" he said pulling himself tighter to her.
But Kizea remained confounded by the elf's behavior. Her mind was more set upon finding her sacred daggers. She simply did not see the significance of it all, and she remained blind to the elf's tears. Not so with Gandalf. By now, the wizard had negotiated the hill and was riding quickly up to them. He stopped short, amazed upon seeing the elf so obviously overcome and clinging to the puzzled girl. Gandalf knew that something grievous had just happened.
"Legolas!" he ordered sternly. The elf pulled back and looked over to the wizard. Gandalf was shocked at the expression on Legolas's face. It was as though the elf had seen a mercurial apparition.
"Legolas," Kizea said gently pushing him away from her, "We must leave this place. It is not safe."
The elf nodded, but before he stood he closed his eyes and whispered an elven prayer so softly, that even Gandalf could not make it out. Then Legolas touched his forehead with his fingers and placed his hands on Kizea's boots. Gandalf was now greatly alarmed. Such a display of intense emotion was extremely rare for the woodland elves, and unheard of for the even-tempered Legolas. Gandalf really had no idea what had transpired between the two on the mountainside, but Legolas was in essence, vowing his eternal devotion to the baffled Fendowan. Should she attempt destroying the stone of Anor as she previously had promised, Legolas and he would have to stop her by any means necessary, even unto killing Kizea. Now Gandalf stood in doubt as to whether Legolas could carry out such an extreme mission. Worse yet, he even sensed that now Legolas would help her if she begged him. Gandalf resolved to find out what had transpired, but now was not the time. They had great need of leaving the area as soon as possible.
Gandalf half wondered if Kizea was stronger magically than he originally thought, and that she had placed a spell on the elf. He knew that Melune's Fendowan voice, even distorted as it was, caused the elf to completely let his guard down.
Of course, Gandalf had no knowledge of Legolas's love for Nevariel. Gandalf had never actually seen them together in Imladris, and he was not present at the Battle of Isodor, where Nevariel had fallen to betrayal and death. Only Kerrinais knew of Legolas's grief, and he was not there to enlighten the wizard. After the battle, it was Kerrinais who helped his friend in the frantic search for the young queen in the remote castle of Isodor. It was there where Legolas discovered her body, cast over the battlement to the ground below. It was Kerrinais who watched as Legolas intertwined the strands of his own hair with Nevariel's, placing them into her cold hand. Even as the young queen was born away from the battlefield by her half- brother Valnin, and two other members of her army, she clutched in death at the strand of braided lock, taking with her all of Legolas's desires, heart and hope. It was the most wretched day of the elf's long existence. To see the selfsame strand of braid again, and to know that the only person who could have such a favor was Nevariel herself, simply overwhelmed the elf.
Neonean came trotting up them, and happily nuzzled the back of the elf's head. Being a horse of some cleverness, she had strayed clear of the landslide until all was quiet, then she bounded towards her master without having been called. Standing up, Legolas brushed himself off and walked over to pick up the Fendowan dagger that he had left on the ground. He extended it to Kizea, handle first, and smiled at her.
"I believe this is yours," he said to her.
Kizea took the knife and placed it in the sheath on her belt. Though they spent some time searching for the second dagger, it was not to be found. The sun was waning fast in the west, and the final, deep red rays of the day seemed more warming. At last, Gandalf prodded the two into continuing the journey. The hour was growing late, and they needed to make a camp for the night further down the mountain, away from further mishaps.
"This is Melune's doing," Kizea said loudly to Gandalf as she scanned the ground, "She is too cowardly to follow us across the light and airy snow capped mountains, so she sends her magic to do her work."
Gandalf nodded looking around nervously.
"Her reach has grown long," Gandalf said to them, "We must proceed with caution as we approach the Eyries. She will be watching and waiting. Her desire to obtain the stone of Anor for the Dark Lord is greater now that we are drawing close to it."
"Are you sure you are alright?" Kizea said to Legolas quizzically as they prepared to leave, "Were you not perhaps hit in the head by a rock?"
Legolas grinned, shaking his head. The very thought of such clumsiness in an elf amused him. But he said nothing further to her of her identity. Kizea was a Fendowan warrior now and had cast aside all of her former existence, even though she had talked of it in secret to him. The elf decided it was the better part of intelligence not to make any further statements to her on the subject until the time was right, if indeed it ever came. But the mere thoughts of destiny bringing his Nevariel back to him in such a way, made the elf positively giddy.
"No," he mused, "I am well. But I thank you for your aid my lady. Today is turning out to be a fortunate day for me indeed."
"Take greater care in the future," Kizea admonished as she pulled herself onto Neonean, "I cannot afford to lose my last dagger. The next time I'll not jump off a cliff to save you!"
"Nor would I want you to." he smiled.
Without any effort, Legolas now gladly mounted Neonean behind Kizea. Observing the elf, Gandalf frowned once more. Legolas seemed to know what the wizard knew, that Kizea was actually Queen Lisaine, although Gandalf seemed less sure. The wizard thought that Legolas's happiness was reflected in his realization that he traveled with the Lossenladwen (Queen of Courage), a true elven celebrity. So named in elven song in the years following the Battle of Isodor, for her aid in the elves fight against Rakal. The queen had re-united with her decimated army after Rakal had nearly destroyed them all in the Anduin. But instead of riding back to reclaim her kingdom, the young queen, who loved all things elven, rode against Rakal's overwhelming forces in Isodor. It was this single act that saved the elves at the last moment, but cost the queen dearly. It was for that sacrifice that she was thus revered among the elves. Gandalf was sure this explained Legolas's odd behavior, but he remained puzzled as to how Legolas suddenly knew.
Gandalf spurred his horse, and the riders bounded down across a small ravine. A worn, well-traveled road that disappeared into the distance was now before them. Traveling would be easier now. They had made the crossing over the High Pass, and continued north along the eastern foothills of the Misty Mountains, towards the Eagles Eyries and Gwaihir the Windlord.