I am apologizing now for any errors made in the way of Dol Guldur. I have
looked it up in the books (LOTR, Silmarillion) and in the Complete Guide to
Middle Earth. The snippets I have found have been helpful, but it was not
touched on much. So my own imagination has had to fill things in.
Part II
In days of old the forest was called Greenwood the Great. It was the largest of Middle Earth's woods and fair. The cool shade beneath its trees was filled with birdsong and the footfall of the beasts that dwelt there. In the northeastern corner was the realm of King Thranduil. There under oak and beech dwelt the Wood Elves. Tall and fair they were, their voices merry and filled with songs.
But then a darkness crept into the wood from the southwest and walked beneath the trees, haunting the shadows and with it came evil creatures, fell and dark. The sunlight was choked, shadows grew and fear fell upon the inhabitants and they fled north. Dark trees sprang up, striving with one another, branches rotting and withering in the struggle. And in the midst on a stony height rose a foul fortress of dark stone made by sorcery. And all felt the fear of the Sorcerer of Dol Guldur.
The forest then became known as Mirkwood and even the Elves would not venture south.
"We don't go that way." Legolas murmured quietly as the Orcs disappeared from sight, his dark brows knitting, a look of despair coming over his fair countenance. What was he to do? He could not leave Egla Ash to that fate. But what could he do alone against that many Orcs? If he were taken to Dol Guldur what would they do to him? Indecision bit at him.
He watched as the Orc that had been left behind sat down on a fallen moss covered log to await Dalblung, who lay dead many miles back. Legolas readied his bow then stepped from concealment. The Orc looked up in surprise. He pulled his own weapon, a curved wicked looking scimitar and rushed at the lone Elf. The arrow flew and the Orc lay dead, its eye pierced through.
Wearily Legolas looked toward the east, toward his home and safety. But then he turned south toward Dol Guldur. Only peril and death awaited in those southern reaches of Mirkwood. But then the words of Egla Ash's first song came to his mind, the song he had written for Legolas when he was imprisoned beneath Emyn Mor Esgal.
"Gar estel annan i elenath sila.
Ind mor lothron garo le
Gil galad sila godref.
Arad o nin or.
Estel na tol."
[Have hope as long as the stars shine.
Though darkness may hold you
A star's light will shine through.
Days of fear will soon be over.
Hope is coming.]
Legolas closed his eyes, head lowered. No. He could not return home. Egla Ash needed him and he would find a way to help him. Even if it merely meant a swift death by a flying arrow before he himself was overwhelmed.
Overhead the stars twinkled in the dark sky. As he gazed lovingly upon them a new sense of determination filled him. He breathed deeply and slung his bow around his back. He would do what he could, no matter the dangers ahead or the risk to himself.
"Im ath tol, nin mellon." [I will come, my friend.] He whispered to the night and the trees. "Gar estel." [Have hope.]
Egla Ash was kept in the midst of the company of Orcs. They were taking no chances now that the Shriekers were involved. Mile after mile they ran into the night. They had passed the way to Gael Dor some time back. He had glanced in its direction, thinking happily of the place he called his home. As he gazed he thought that he saw a small glimmer of light coming from the clearing. He had silently called farewell to it in Elvish. "Namarie, nin Gael Dor. Im ath gar le ned rin." [Farewell, my Glimmering Place. I will hold you in remembrance.]
"Gwelu lend a laeg
Cell godref i fin.
Lameth can o erin brand
Gliri nin nain an i ross."
[Air sweet and fresh
Flowing through the trees.
Voices calling from on high
Recite my tears to the rain.]
Fear coursed through him as he contemplated what was going to happen to him in Dol Guldur.
"Perhaps they wish to make an Orc of him yet."
The words kept running through his brain with a fevered intensity. They were going to torment him until he became what he had been spawned to be. There could be no crueler punishment. To do away with his love of beauty and replace it with hatred and contempt. He shuddered, his footsteps faltering. Better death after long torment than this.
A whip snaked out behind him, striking him painfully across his back.
"Keep it moving, sluggard! Or I'll encourage you again."
Shoves and kicks were aimed at him. He struggled onward. It would be many days before they reached the dark tower on the hill. He raised his eyes to the sky. The stars, diamond bright, were peering amidst the branches of the trees. His fears eased slightly as the glistening points of light filled his vision.
"I will take them with me into the darkness. I will not forget. I will not forget, Legolas Elvellon." He thought, a small smile on his lips. Inside his tunic, against his heart, was a brooch of silver and green in the shape of an oak leaf. It was the same one that he had shown to the Rangers that fateful night one year ago. It had belonged to Legolas and Egla Ash had kept it safe for him during his time of imprisonment. Legolas had given it to him after the Rangers had helped to rescue him. He had kept it with him always. It would go with him into the darkness that awaited him.
"I will not forget."
Legolas followed the Orcs, his heart remaining true to his mission. His feet traveled the familiar path south. Soon they would pass Egla Ash's home. He had come this way many times in happier days. He found himself turning aside for a moment, hoping that perhaps Egla Ash had escaped and managed to make it to Gael Dor. And if not the trail was clear enough. He would follow them to the end.
As he neared the clearing he noticed the small glimmer of light coming from its center. His heart leapt with hope. If only it could be…
He hurried toward the clearing, taking his white knife into one slim hand. He moved cautiously into the trees that surrounded Gael Dor.
It was not Egla Ash that sat in the middle of his clearing. But the sight that met Legolas' eyes was one almost as joyous.
"Estel!"
The man crouched beside the fire stood and moved to meet the Elf's embrace.
"How are you, Prince Legolas?"
"I am well. And you, my friend?"
Dunadan smiled and held the Elf at arms' length.
"You look troubled. Is all well at your father's kingdom?"
Legolas dropped his gaze and wouldn't meet the cool blue eyes.
"All is well."
Dunadan didn't question but lead the Elf to the small fire he had kindled.
"What happened to your leg? Was it the group of Orcs that I saw passing earlier?" The man's deft hands began to unwind the ragged bandage.
"They have taken him, Estel. They have taken Egla Ash." Legolas voice was low and urgent as gentle fingers searched his wound. It was healing well, but the Ranger moved to his pack to make a poultice to use on it.
"Who? Those Orcs?" A scowl touched his rugged face. "When?"
"A few days hence. I have been following them. If I had been faster I would have saved him ere they met up with the larger group. They are taking him to Dol Guldur, Estel. You know what that means."
Dunadan stared at the blue eyes of his friend. They were filled with pain and discouragement.
"Dol Guldur?" He murmured, his eyes straying to the stars. "Are you certain?"
"Yes. I heard them speaking earlier. They said that they had news from the Shriekers. And that they were to go south."
"The Shriekers?" The Ranger's eyes grew troubled as he spilled crushed athelas leaves into the boiling water. "They said Shriekers?"
"Yes. What does that mean, Estel?"
Dunadan stood his eyes on the night, a distant look clouding his face.
"Shriekers." He murmured. Then he seemed to shake himself. "Nazgul. Sometimes the Orcs call them Shriekers. So it is as we had feared. Nazgul occupy Dol Guldur."
"Nazgul." Legolas couldn't suppress the shudder that rippled through his body. A feeling of deep foreboding filled his mind: the stir of greater things that had not yet come to fruition. "I cannot let this happen to him, Estel. I have to go after him."
"Alone?" He scooped the soaked leaves from the small pot, placing them in a bandage.
"He is my friend. And I am alone in this." He wouldn't speak of what had almost befallen the Orc at the hands of the Elves at Beleg Doron. "I fear what they will do to him."
Dunadan nodded. He knew only one reason they would take the Orc to the dark tower. He would die there or be transformed into something that they would loath. He nodded, moving to kneel by the Elf once more. Legolas hissed through his teeth as the hot leaves came in contact with his skin. The Ranger carefully wound the bandage about his thigh.
"I was traveling to visit you and Egla Ash after I left Lorien. Though this was not how I envisioned our meeting." He stood and moved to check his weapons that lay nearby, ever ready. "Well. I guess that we will be traveling south. Though this about the Nazgul is disturbing, but not necessarily unlooked for."
"You will accompany me?" Legolas rose to his feet, relief showing plainly on his fair face.
"Of course." He began to pack the few things that lay scattered near the fire. "What are friends for. We will not leave him to the torment that awaits him there."
A few minutes later Gael Dor was empty, the only sign that anyone had passed that way was the small ring of ash on the forest floor.
Part II
In days of old the forest was called Greenwood the Great. It was the largest of Middle Earth's woods and fair. The cool shade beneath its trees was filled with birdsong and the footfall of the beasts that dwelt there. In the northeastern corner was the realm of King Thranduil. There under oak and beech dwelt the Wood Elves. Tall and fair they were, their voices merry and filled with songs.
But then a darkness crept into the wood from the southwest and walked beneath the trees, haunting the shadows and with it came evil creatures, fell and dark. The sunlight was choked, shadows grew and fear fell upon the inhabitants and they fled north. Dark trees sprang up, striving with one another, branches rotting and withering in the struggle. And in the midst on a stony height rose a foul fortress of dark stone made by sorcery. And all felt the fear of the Sorcerer of Dol Guldur.
The forest then became known as Mirkwood and even the Elves would not venture south.
"We don't go that way." Legolas murmured quietly as the Orcs disappeared from sight, his dark brows knitting, a look of despair coming over his fair countenance. What was he to do? He could not leave Egla Ash to that fate. But what could he do alone against that many Orcs? If he were taken to Dol Guldur what would they do to him? Indecision bit at him.
He watched as the Orc that had been left behind sat down on a fallen moss covered log to await Dalblung, who lay dead many miles back. Legolas readied his bow then stepped from concealment. The Orc looked up in surprise. He pulled his own weapon, a curved wicked looking scimitar and rushed at the lone Elf. The arrow flew and the Orc lay dead, its eye pierced through.
Wearily Legolas looked toward the east, toward his home and safety. But then he turned south toward Dol Guldur. Only peril and death awaited in those southern reaches of Mirkwood. But then the words of Egla Ash's first song came to his mind, the song he had written for Legolas when he was imprisoned beneath Emyn Mor Esgal.
"Gar estel annan i elenath sila.
Ind mor lothron garo le
Gil galad sila godref.
Arad o nin or.
Estel na tol."
[Have hope as long as the stars shine.
Though darkness may hold you
A star's light will shine through.
Days of fear will soon be over.
Hope is coming.]
Legolas closed his eyes, head lowered. No. He could not return home. Egla Ash needed him and he would find a way to help him. Even if it merely meant a swift death by a flying arrow before he himself was overwhelmed.
Overhead the stars twinkled in the dark sky. As he gazed lovingly upon them a new sense of determination filled him. He breathed deeply and slung his bow around his back. He would do what he could, no matter the dangers ahead or the risk to himself.
"Im ath tol, nin mellon." [I will come, my friend.] He whispered to the night and the trees. "Gar estel." [Have hope.]
Egla Ash was kept in the midst of the company of Orcs. They were taking no chances now that the Shriekers were involved. Mile after mile they ran into the night. They had passed the way to Gael Dor some time back. He had glanced in its direction, thinking happily of the place he called his home. As he gazed he thought that he saw a small glimmer of light coming from the clearing. He had silently called farewell to it in Elvish. "Namarie, nin Gael Dor. Im ath gar le ned rin." [Farewell, my Glimmering Place. I will hold you in remembrance.]
"Gwelu lend a laeg
Cell godref i fin.
Lameth can o erin brand
Gliri nin nain an i ross."
[Air sweet and fresh
Flowing through the trees.
Voices calling from on high
Recite my tears to the rain.]
Fear coursed through him as he contemplated what was going to happen to him in Dol Guldur.
"Perhaps they wish to make an Orc of him yet."
The words kept running through his brain with a fevered intensity. They were going to torment him until he became what he had been spawned to be. There could be no crueler punishment. To do away with his love of beauty and replace it with hatred and contempt. He shuddered, his footsteps faltering. Better death after long torment than this.
A whip snaked out behind him, striking him painfully across his back.
"Keep it moving, sluggard! Or I'll encourage you again."
Shoves and kicks were aimed at him. He struggled onward. It would be many days before they reached the dark tower on the hill. He raised his eyes to the sky. The stars, diamond bright, were peering amidst the branches of the trees. His fears eased slightly as the glistening points of light filled his vision.
"I will take them with me into the darkness. I will not forget. I will not forget, Legolas Elvellon." He thought, a small smile on his lips. Inside his tunic, against his heart, was a brooch of silver and green in the shape of an oak leaf. It was the same one that he had shown to the Rangers that fateful night one year ago. It had belonged to Legolas and Egla Ash had kept it safe for him during his time of imprisonment. Legolas had given it to him after the Rangers had helped to rescue him. He had kept it with him always. It would go with him into the darkness that awaited him.
"I will not forget."
Legolas followed the Orcs, his heart remaining true to his mission. His feet traveled the familiar path south. Soon they would pass Egla Ash's home. He had come this way many times in happier days. He found himself turning aside for a moment, hoping that perhaps Egla Ash had escaped and managed to make it to Gael Dor. And if not the trail was clear enough. He would follow them to the end.
As he neared the clearing he noticed the small glimmer of light coming from its center. His heart leapt with hope. If only it could be…
He hurried toward the clearing, taking his white knife into one slim hand. He moved cautiously into the trees that surrounded Gael Dor.
It was not Egla Ash that sat in the middle of his clearing. But the sight that met Legolas' eyes was one almost as joyous.
"Estel!"
The man crouched beside the fire stood and moved to meet the Elf's embrace.
"How are you, Prince Legolas?"
"I am well. And you, my friend?"
Dunadan smiled and held the Elf at arms' length.
"You look troubled. Is all well at your father's kingdom?"
Legolas dropped his gaze and wouldn't meet the cool blue eyes.
"All is well."
Dunadan didn't question but lead the Elf to the small fire he had kindled.
"What happened to your leg? Was it the group of Orcs that I saw passing earlier?" The man's deft hands began to unwind the ragged bandage.
"They have taken him, Estel. They have taken Egla Ash." Legolas voice was low and urgent as gentle fingers searched his wound. It was healing well, but the Ranger moved to his pack to make a poultice to use on it.
"Who? Those Orcs?" A scowl touched his rugged face. "When?"
"A few days hence. I have been following them. If I had been faster I would have saved him ere they met up with the larger group. They are taking him to Dol Guldur, Estel. You know what that means."
Dunadan stared at the blue eyes of his friend. They were filled with pain and discouragement.
"Dol Guldur?" He murmured, his eyes straying to the stars. "Are you certain?"
"Yes. I heard them speaking earlier. They said that they had news from the Shriekers. And that they were to go south."
"The Shriekers?" The Ranger's eyes grew troubled as he spilled crushed athelas leaves into the boiling water. "They said Shriekers?"
"Yes. What does that mean, Estel?"
Dunadan stood his eyes on the night, a distant look clouding his face.
"Shriekers." He murmured. Then he seemed to shake himself. "Nazgul. Sometimes the Orcs call them Shriekers. So it is as we had feared. Nazgul occupy Dol Guldur."
"Nazgul." Legolas couldn't suppress the shudder that rippled through his body. A feeling of deep foreboding filled his mind: the stir of greater things that had not yet come to fruition. "I cannot let this happen to him, Estel. I have to go after him."
"Alone?" He scooped the soaked leaves from the small pot, placing them in a bandage.
"He is my friend. And I am alone in this." He wouldn't speak of what had almost befallen the Orc at the hands of the Elves at Beleg Doron. "I fear what they will do to him."
Dunadan nodded. He knew only one reason they would take the Orc to the dark tower. He would die there or be transformed into something that they would loath. He nodded, moving to kneel by the Elf once more. Legolas hissed through his teeth as the hot leaves came in contact with his skin. The Ranger carefully wound the bandage about his thigh.
"I was traveling to visit you and Egla Ash after I left Lorien. Though this was not how I envisioned our meeting." He stood and moved to check his weapons that lay nearby, ever ready. "Well. I guess that we will be traveling south. Though this about the Nazgul is disturbing, but not necessarily unlooked for."
"You will accompany me?" Legolas rose to his feet, relief showing plainly on his fair face.
"Of course." He began to pack the few things that lay scattered near the fire. "What are friends for. We will not leave him to the torment that awaits him there."
A few minutes later Gael Dor was empty, the only sign that anyone had passed that way was the small ring of ash on the forest floor.