Legacy of the Ring
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: Not mine, so put that away!
Chapter 21
A whistle pierced the air, silencing the camp. It was followed quickly by two shorter whistles and they relaxed. A group of elves was approaching. A group that they had been expecting. "Why use a system like that?" Volcanic Strike inquired.
Phoenix shrugged. "I'd better go back." She pivoted about just as Talitha herded a dwarf and an elf over to her. They vanished into the command pavilion. The dragoness hissed when the stallions attempted to enter. Sunlight filtered through the canvas material, and the soft candlelight gave the scene a yellowed look. Yet within were three elves; Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel and King Thranduil. Finally, he had seen the danger. Each expression was flat, not a smile among them. The dangers of this war they understood all too well.
"Soon Sauron will realize that a light within one of the huntress's number kept his daughter from turning the tribes against the huntresses. His wrath will be great." Galadriel divulged.
The huntress shifted uneasily upon her hooves. Not even centaurs, among the youngest of races, could hold out alone against his darkness for long. She grew still, became very alert. A soft voice was heard by all within the pavilion; a voice speaking in a language long forgotten. The surreal quality of it soon faded, as the sinister intent became known.
They seemed to pool their strength together, easily fending off the darkness that threatened. But who would know such a spell? It could have instantly turned an elf into an orc if successful. Galadriel's gaze remained upon the young huntress. As Mithrandir has said, her light is incredible. Yes, definitely akin to our own.
The filly shook herself, bringing everyone back to the present. It had been her light that had tipped the balance scales in their favor. Light she knew not of burned brightly within her exterior. But what would happen when she became aware of it? As of now, she was one of their greatest allies. If such power would twist her soul, they would most likely have to do something they would never want to. Yet, they elves could tell she had a good head on her shoulders. Nothing could force her to choose between them.
Winter Serenity stepped into the pavilion, a stern expression on her face. As always, it was glacial-cold. "He's taken the orcs from Moria." Like her voice, like her expression, was devoid of emotion. The cold, icy front hid a sweet and kind mare. A gentle mare that had been forgotten by many.
Phoenix stepped over to the map, taking up a quill pen. Noting the change and number of orcs taken only took seconds. A shudder ran through her. The darkness had grown greater, yet simultaneously, a spiritual voice had spoken to her. Even though they were small islands of light in a sea of darkness, she could still understand what had been said to her. Another character was added to what had previously been there, startling them.
"Cave trolls? Phoenix, who told you that?" Gimli demanded.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know. Still, he sounded as though he knew."
The Gatekeeper touched her shoulder gently. "He had his reasons for hiding his identity."
The huntress took comfort in that statement and continued charting the changes that had been brought in by lesser dragon. Many of the children of the Valar were making these lifelong friends, and not just centaurs. New information that had been brought in was taken out. Phoenix gazed at the map, seeing how the forces were redistributed. A flash of the final battle of this war entered her mind. The dark lands of Mordor were all around them and it was clearly a struggle to stay alive. A battle that was quickly becoming desperate, should things remain as they were.
Celeborn gently touched her arm, drawing her back to the present. "What is wrong?"
She met his gaze firmly, not an ounce of fear or trembling within her. That was so much like Sacred Smoke that he very nearly thought she had come back in this filly. Yet he knew that she was Phoenix, only descended of the great huntress. No soul could return by that route without permission of the Valar. Sacred Smoke Tinuviel had made it clear when she passed on that she was ready to rest. "There will be a battle for survival in the lands of Mordor."
A loud shriek went up outside, instantly ending the meeting. Wings of lesser dragons flew in the air, chattering in anger. The princess instantly burst out laughing. "Pray tell, what is so funny?" Thranduil inquired.
"Ember...got...stepped..on!" she gasped out between laughs. It was quite amusing to her, and to many of the others. Especially since that colt had known about lesser dragons before. Such knowledge was hard to forget.
Volcanic Strike held his injured arm, keeping the wound closed. His glare was on one particular red. Without realizing it, he found his sister next to him. "Brother, how could have you forgotten so quickly? Lesser dragons hate getting stepped on. Ember was well within his rights." She took a firm hold on his uninjured arm before pulling him into the medical tent.
"It's easy enough for you to remember, you're dragon-bound." Volcanic Strike ground out as she cleaned the slash. He bit back a yelp as his youngest sister put stitches into it.
A light slap made him hiss. "Maybe this will teach you to watch where you're putting your hooves."
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: Not mine, so put that away!
Chapter 21
A whistle pierced the air, silencing the camp. It was followed quickly by two shorter whistles and they relaxed. A group of elves was approaching. A group that they had been expecting. "Why use a system like that?" Volcanic Strike inquired.
Phoenix shrugged. "I'd better go back." She pivoted about just as Talitha herded a dwarf and an elf over to her. They vanished into the command pavilion. The dragoness hissed when the stallions attempted to enter. Sunlight filtered through the canvas material, and the soft candlelight gave the scene a yellowed look. Yet within were three elves; Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel and King Thranduil. Finally, he had seen the danger. Each expression was flat, not a smile among them. The dangers of this war they understood all too well.
"Soon Sauron will realize that a light within one of the huntress's number kept his daughter from turning the tribes against the huntresses. His wrath will be great." Galadriel divulged.
The huntress shifted uneasily upon her hooves. Not even centaurs, among the youngest of races, could hold out alone against his darkness for long. She grew still, became very alert. A soft voice was heard by all within the pavilion; a voice speaking in a language long forgotten. The surreal quality of it soon faded, as the sinister intent became known.
They seemed to pool their strength together, easily fending off the darkness that threatened. But who would know such a spell? It could have instantly turned an elf into an orc if successful. Galadriel's gaze remained upon the young huntress. As Mithrandir has said, her light is incredible. Yes, definitely akin to our own.
The filly shook herself, bringing everyone back to the present. It had been her light that had tipped the balance scales in their favor. Light she knew not of burned brightly within her exterior. But what would happen when she became aware of it? As of now, she was one of their greatest allies. If such power would twist her soul, they would most likely have to do something they would never want to. Yet, they elves could tell she had a good head on her shoulders. Nothing could force her to choose between them.
Winter Serenity stepped into the pavilion, a stern expression on her face. As always, it was glacial-cold. "He's taken the orcs from Moria." Like her voice, like her expression, was devoid of emotion. The cold, icy front hid a sweet and kind mare. A gentle mare that had been forgotten by many.
Phoenix stepped over to the map, taking up a quill pen. Noting the change and number of orcs taken only took seconds. A shudder ran through her. The darkness had grown greater, yet simultaneously, a spiritual voice had spoken to her. Even though they were small islands of light in a sea of darkness, she could still understand what had been said to her. Another character was added to what had previously been there, startling them.
"Cave trolls? Phoenix, who told you that?" Gimli demanded.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know. Still, he sounded as though he knew."
The Gatekeeper touched her shoulder gently. "He had his reasons for hiding his identity."
The huntress took comfort in that statement and continued charting the changes that had been brought in by lesser dragon. Many of the children of the Valar were making these lifelong friends, and not just centaurs. New information that had been brought in was taken out. Phoenix gazed at the map, seeing how the forces were redistributed. A flash of the final battle of this war entered her mind. The dark lands of Mordor were all around them and it was clearly a struggle to stay alive. A battle that was quickly becoming desperate, should things remain as they were.
Celeborn gently touched her arm, drawing her back to the present. "What is wrong?"
She met his gaze firmly, not an ounce of fear or trembling within her. That was so much like Sacred Smoke that he very nearly thought she had come back in this filly. Yet he knew that she was Phoenix, only descended of the great huntress. No soul could return by that route without permission of the Valar. Sacred Smoke Tinuviel had made it clear when she passed on that she was ready to rest. "There will be a battle for survival in the lands of Mordor."
A loud shriek went up outside, instantly ending the meeting. Wings of lesser dragons flew in the air, chattering in anger. The princess instantly burst out laughing. "Pray tell, what is so funny?" Thranduil inquired.
"Ember...got...stepped..on!" she gasped out between laughs. It was quite amusing to her, and to many of the others. Especially since that colt had known about lesser dragons before. Such knowledge was hard to forget.
Volcanic Strike held his injured arm, keeping the wound closed. His glare was on one particular red. Without realizing it, he found his sister next to him. "Brother, how could have you forgotten so quickly? Lesser dragons hate getting stepped on. Ember was well within his rights." She took a firm hold on his uninjured arm before pulling him into the medical tent.
"It's easy enough for you to remember, you're dragon-bound." Volcanic Strike ground out as she cleaned the slash. He bit back a yelp as his youngest sister put stitches into it.
A light slap made him hiss. "Maybe this will teach you to watch where you're putting your hooves."