A/N - thank you to all who reviewed the last chapters. It really is
wonderful to find reviews waiting after you post your hard work. On that
note, to answer Kallie's question - I did not really state how long Tarcil
was at Miregroth, but in my head I was thinking about 4 or 5 months.
I placed some definitions of certain words and phrases at the end of the story, If you are unsure of any of the things I said check there.
Well, I promised you more Legolas, and I think I have delivered. He will play a very central role in the remainder of the story. Now, on to the story.
Chapter Six
Return to the Wood
Large oak trees with their thick, knotted trunks stretched as far as the eye could see broken only here and there by thickets of Hazel. Sunlight gleamed from overhead filtering down between the trees in wide pools. Not a breath of wind stirred the leaves, and the lack of moving air kept the day warmer than Annalome would have preferred. Nearly eight hundred years she had dwelt in the north of the land, and although she had spent the last few years in sunny Gondor she never held any fondness for warm days. Despite the warmth, however, she shivered.
She had entered the eaves of Greenwood the Great earlier that day. At first the wood had seemed no different than any other forest. And yet, there was something amiss from the start. Thranduil had always kept patrols on the borders of the forest, even as far to the south as she was. The presence of elves left a certain feel to a land. It was as if the earth itself nearly sang for joy at the mere presence of the firstborn. But the land whispered to Annalome of an absence of the fair folk, and of a yearning for them to return. Slowly she became aware of a feeling of uneasiness. Her senses were heightened as if they were aware of some great danger which Annalome herself could not yet reason out. The feeling had grown the further she traveled into the vast woodland.
Gently she pulled back on Argil's reins and the horse slowed to a stop. Staring intently into the surrounding trees Annalome searched once again for the cause of her uneasiness. Abruptly she realized that the forest was perfectly quiet. The only sounds she could hear were the gentle breathing of her horse and the soft swish of his tail. There was no animal, bird or otherwise. There was only an eerie, prolonged silence.
Slowly Annalome checked for the long knife, which hung from her saddle. She unfastened the sheath that contained it so that the blade would be at the ready if she needed it. Satisfied she then grabbed her bow and set one of her arrows to the string. Annalome was more certain than ever that danger was close by.
She had chosen to enter the forest at its most southwesterly point so that she might travel the full expanse of what had at one time been her home. She now reconsidered that decision. If the feeling of danger was growing with every league she traveled into the forest then perhaps it would be best if she retraced her steps and then circled the outskirts of the wood until she was much further to the north.
Having made up her mind to go back the way she had come she was about to turn Argil around when a new feeling suddenly swept over her. Slowly a smile spread across her face. She scanned the surrounding treetops but could see nothing. In all her long years in Middle-earth she had not yet discovered how to spot an elf who did not wish to be seen. ""I cannot see you, but I know you are there. I am a friend of the Woodland Elves, though it has been many years since I have visited your land."
Suddenly an elf landed, cat-like, on the ground in front of her. In her head she cursed that he had been able to get so close without her perceiving him. The elf stood up straight and regarded her for a moment. He was blonde, like most of Thranduil's people with the gray eyes of the Silvan elves. "You are most welcome, your highness, in Greenwood the Great. And though it has been many years since you dwelt among us I remember still," the elf inclined his head respectfully, "However, if you are the elf-friend you claim then why is your weapon at the ready?"
Annalome sighed, "Forgive me, your highness, until this moment I had feared I was in grave danger." Annalome returned her bow to the saddle catch and the arrow to her quiver then dismounted. She inclined her head in the elf's direction, "I had not expected to find you, Prince Legolas, but I am grateful for your presence."
The hint of a smile had been playing on Legolas's face, but at the mention of danger it had turned into a decided frown. "My lady, we also have sensed this danger. I know not its source, but my father has bestowed upon me the task of discovering it."
That the elves were aware of the same danger she felt was of some comfort, but it made her uneasy that they were as puzzled by it as she was. "Where is the source of this uneasiness, my lord?"
Legolas turned his gaze to the north and west, "It lies in that direction, my lady, towards Amon-I-taur."
Both Legolas and Annalome stood for sometime staring in the direction that the great hill lay. The momentary respite their conversation had provided was disrupted once again as the silence once more settled in, thick and suffocating.
Movement caught Annalome's eye, and her hand flinched involuntarily for the knife she had left on Argil's saddle. Another elf appeared out of the trees on her right. She allowed herself a small sigh of relief even as she and Legolas were joined by four additional elves. Legolas introduced her, but there was no need. Annalome remembered each of them and they in turn had not forgotten her.
The youngest prince of Greenwood the Great gave orders for the others to set a perimeter. The sun had begun its westward descent, and Legolas decided that they would make their camp for the night at this place. Ainaelin, a female elf with uncharacteristically blue eyes, helped Annalome to remove her belongings from Argil. Legolas and his companions had horses that were grazing nearby, and Ainaelin took Argil to join them.
Once the others had been set to their various tasks Legolas turned around to face Annalome, the worry clearly visible in his fine elven features. "What brings you to this part of Greenwood the Great, my lady?"
Annalome sighed, "Might we dispense with the formalities? It has been hundreds of years since I was a queen of Arnor, and such titles no longer suit me. When last we met you called me Annalome and I called you Legolas."
Legolas smiled sadly, "That was many years ago, but it will be as you wish, Annalome."
Annalome stared curiously at the elf. Strange that Legolas considered 800 years such a long time. Amongst the Firstborn it was a short time indeed. It occurred to her that Legolas, despite his years of experience, was still young for an elf and perhaps did not see the world in the same way. Instantly she felt a kinship with him that she had never felt during her time in Miregroth. "I was journeying to your father's hall, Legolas. I came from the woods of Lothlorien, and I had a mind to ride through this wood on my way."
Legolas nodded, "Tomorrow, I will send Ainaelin as your escort to Miregroth. This quiet and uneasiness will lessen as you travel north, but I would not have any harm come to my brother's daughter."
Annalome shook her head, "No, Legolas, I wish to remain and join in your hunt. There is something very wrong here in Greenwood, and I would know what it is."
The elf did not respond, but seemed to consider her for a moment. Finally, as if reaching some decision he said, "I cannot say for certain, but I sense there is evil in this. The feel of it is new, and so barely felt, but I grow more certain of it with each passing hour. I do not know what we will encounter. It would be better for you to continue on to Miregroth with Ainaelin."
"If you are unsure of the danger then it would be foolish to leave yourself with one less to help defend against the unforeseeable. If I remain then Ainaelin will remain as well, and with myself you would then have an additional force against the threat." Seeing Legolas was not going to agree she continued, "If you are concerned that I would be more of a hindrance than a help, then remember that I was once Queen of Arnor. The royal family, be they male or female, are well educated in the arts of battle. And if this does not suffice then perhaps you should remember who it was that taught me the bow."
Legolas shook his head, "I can see that your stubbornness has not diminished in all your long years." The elf turned and Annalome detected the hint of a sigh before he said, "You are no longer my father's subject, and therefore I have no authority to order you to leave. You are however, in my father's realm, and as my father and elder brothers are not here I am given authority to rule as I see fit. I will send you away if I feel your life is threatened."
"I find this acceptable, Legolas. Let us pray, however, that the situation does not warrant such action."
Legolas nodded slowly, "Let us prepare our camp for the night then. It will be much colder this evening. We should gather what wood we can for a fire," the elf-prince turned to gaze once more in the direction of Amon-i- taur. Once again the silence descended leaving Annalome feeling ill at ease. When Legolas turned towards her once more her own feelings were mirrored in his fine elven features. He seemed to consider her for a few moments then said; "I think we should take to the trees for our rest this night, though it may prove to be of some discomfort for you, Annalome. Perhaps this peculiar silence has made me anxious for naught, but I would rather take the precaution than regret not having done so this evening."
Annalome smiled, "Do not worry for my comfort, Legolas. This would not be my first night sleeping in the trees." Stooping down, Annalome reached into one of her saddlebags and retrieved what seemed a great mesh of rope. Looking up into the boughs of a nearby oak she nodded as she found what she was looking for. Throwing the rope over one shoulder she grasped the branch nearest to the ground, which was almost as thick as the trunk itself, and pulled herself up on top of it. She was grateful for the divided skirts she wore for riding otherwise her ascent into the large oak would have proven quite difficult. Still, she knew she must appear very graceless indeed in the eyes of a Woodland Elf.
When she had reached a point some twenty feet above the ground she took the rope bundle from under her arm and began unraveling it. She tied one end to the branch she stood on and the other end to one nearby, and at the same level as the first. Between the two branches was a large meshwork of rope. Carefully she climbed into her bed of rope and lay down. From below she heard the golden laughter of not one, but five elves. Looking down she could see Legolas and his band of elves staring up at her. Tauron, a very tall elf who Annalome remembered for the lovely songs he would sing for Thranduil's people at special gatherings, called up to her in his melodious voice, "It seems that soon only the shape of one's ear will tell if they be man or elf, if the Secondborn have now taken to sleeping in the trees."
Annalome laughed out loud then sat up and carefully made her way out of her makeshift bed and onto the sturdy branch of the oak. It was much more difficult getting down than up, but she eventually made her way to the forest floor. "Nay, Tauron, few in the race of men would sleep in my rope- bed, as I have named it, but it suits me well." The air was filled with the sounds of elven laughter once more. The sounds were more welcome than the uncanny silence, and Annalome found herself joining them.
Legolas gave orders for Ainaelin and Teiglin, who was the son of one of Legolas's sisters, to prepare for evening meal while Tauron and Curuwen stood guard. He and Annalome left the camp to search for firewood.
They had not gone far when Legolas spoke, "You are traveling alone, and you have come from Lothlorien. Is all well with you?"
If she could have done so without the sharp ears of the elf catching her she would have sighed, "Were I any other woman I would expect such a question, but I am not any other woman."
Confusion was evident in the elf's eyes. This time Annalome sighed out loud, "Legolas, I have lived for more than 800 years, as have you. My husband, children, even my children's children's children have long since passed from this land. The realm of Arnor, for which I was once the queen, is no longer. Those who are descended from me fear me, and have cast me out of their realm. You ask me if all is well. How should I answer you?"
Where confusion had been now Annalome read pity in the elf-prince's eyes. "I am sorry, Annalome. It is true that your longevity is a mystery to the elves as well, but our own immortality has blinded me to your plight. Please forgive me."
"All is forgiven, Legolas. I have been harsh with you as well. I have traveled to Lothlorien and to Greenwood the Great with expectations of acceptance and understanding. You have done both, and I have rebuked you for it. I also am sorry, and would beg your forgiveness."
Legolas raised one hand, "There is no need, Annalome. I have found no offense in your words."
Annalome nodded, and the two continued gathering wood for some while in silence. When Legolas finally spoke again it was almost as a whisper, as if he were afraid of breaking the silence that surrounded them. "I have never visited the realm of Lothlorien, though many of my brothers and sisters have before I was born. Is it as beautiful as they say?"
"Yes, and more so than words could ever describe." Annalome closed her eyes and sighed remembering the beautiful trees and people she had met. "Though, I was told by the elves who dwell there that the trees are even more beautiful when autumn comes. I should like to visit then if I am able."
"As would I, though there is little contact between the Woodland Elves and the Elves of Lothlorien now. Few of the elves of Miregroth have ever seen Caras Galadon or Rivendell, and only those who hearken to the call of the sea have seen the Grey Havens." The prince fell suddenly silent.
Empathy welled in Annalome for the youngest elf of Greenwood, "I have seen many of your people as they traveled through Arnor on their way to the Great Sea, and each year there are more." Annalome placed her hand on Legolas's arm, "I am sorry for your loss, Legolas. It must be a heavy burden to bear."
Legolas's eyes were wells of anguish, "My mother departed for Valinor soon after your leaving, and many of my brothers and sisters have gone as well."
A knot formed in Annalome's stomach as she watched Legolas struggle to find suitable words, but the pain in his eyes betrayed his thoughts. Tears came unbidden to her cheeks, "Gaerlin has gone then." It was a statement, not a question.
The elf nodded, "He became increasingly withdrawn after you left for Arnor with Prince Tarcil. He agreed to accompany my mother to the Havens but never returned."
Annalome wept unashamedly. Legolas took her hand in his, "He did not forget you, Annalome. When we return to Miregroth I have something he left in my care to give to you should you ever return to Greenwood."
Gripping Legolas's hand tightly she looked into his eyes, "It is a cruel thing that I know not if I shall ever lay eyes on him again."
Legolas produced a small piece of fine elven cloth and handed it to Annalome. She dabbed her eyes as he said, "I may hold the happiness of knowing I will one day be reunited with those who have already departed, but I am certain you and Gaerlin will be reunited one day as well. Except for the evil Morgoth, the Valar are not cruel. You will not endure eternity alone, Annalome."
Annalome smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Legolas. It seems that you have seen your way clear to the heart of my troubles, and your words have given me much peace."
Legolas squeezed her hand once more then continued on in search of more wood. Annalome followed, her heart lighter than it had been in hundreds of years.
When they returned to camp they found that the others had not been idle. The smell of vegetables stewing reminded Annalome that she had not eaten since early that morning. She went to the fire and set the firewood she had collected on the ground nearby. Standing to stretch tired muscles she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. The sun had almost set and a shadow had been cast over much of the forest, but she was certain she had seen movement in the trees.
Whispering so as not to disturb whatever it was Annalome said, "Legolas, you have better eyes than I. See you there in the topmost branches of the oak to the east of our camp, is that not a bird?"
Legolas stared intently in the tree Annalome had described. Before she knew what had happened he had taken an arrow from the quiver on his back along with his bow and in one fluid motion sent the arrow in the direction of the tree. She could clearly hear the arrow hit its mark, and then the thud of Legolas's prey as it fell to the earth.
All activity ceased in the camp as the other elves turned to stare at what had provoked their prince to use his weapon. Legolas, however, offered no explanation and quickly walked to where his target had fallen. Annalome and the other elves followed rightt behind him. He crouched down over the large bird, and Annalome caught her breath as she saw the arrow's target. Lying on the ground was a large, black raven pierced through the breast by Legolas's arrow.
The prince picked up the bird and wrenched his arrow free of its flesh throwing the carcass into the deep of the woods. Rising he turned to face the others, "It is one of the Dark One's own spies. My feelings were not misguided." His gaze once again drifted towards Amon-i-taur, "There is great evil at work nearby."
Amon-I-taur - Hill of the Wood. I made it up. Very original don't you think.
Firstborn - the elves
Caras Galadon - the capital city of Lothlorien
Grey Havens - on the Gulf of Lune on the western shore of Middle-earth. Most elves departed for the Undying Lands from here.
I placed some definitions of certain words and phrases at the end of the story, If you are unsure of any of the things I said check there.
Well, I promised you more Legolas, and I think I have delivered. He will play a very central role in the remainder of the story. Now, on to the story.
Chapter Six
Return to the Wood
Large oak trees with their thick, knotted trunks stretched as far as the eye could see broken only here and there by thickets of Hazel. Sunlight gleamed from overhead filtering down between the trees in wide pools. Not a breath of wind stirred the leaves, and the lack of moving air kept the day warmer than Annalome would have preferred. Nearly eight hundred years she had dwelt in the north of the land, and although she had spent the last few years in sunny Gondor she never held any fondness for warm days. Despite the warmth, however, she shivered.
She had entered the eaves of Greenwood the Great earlier that day. At first the wood had seemed no different than any other forest. And yet, there was something amiss from the start. Thranduil had always kept patrols on the borders of the forest, even as far to the south as she was. The presence of elves left a certain feel to a land. It was as if the earth itself nearly sang for joy at the mere presence of the firstborn. But the land whispered to Annalome of an absence of the fair folk, and of a yearning for them to return. Slowly she became aware of a feeling of uneasiness. Her senses were heightened as if they were aware of some great danger which Annalome herself could not yet reason out. The feeling had grown the further she traveled into the vast woodland.
Gently she pulled back on Argil's reins and the horse slowed to a stop. Staring intently into the surrounding trees Annalome searched once again for the cause of her uneasiness. Abruptly she realized that the forest was perfectly quiet. The only sounds she could hear were the gentle breathing of her horse and the soft swish of his tail. There was no animal, bird or otherwise. There was only an eerie, prolonged silence.
Slowly Annalome checked for the long knife, which hung from her saddle. She unfastened the sheath that contained it so that the blade would be at the ready if she needed it. Satisfied she then grabbed her bow and set one of her arrows to the string. Annalome was more certain than ever that danger was close by.
She had chosen to enter the forest at its most southwesterly point so that she might travel the full expanse of what had at one time been her home. She now reconsidered that decision. If the feeling of danger was growing with every league she traveled into the forest then perhaps it would be best if she retraced her steps and then circled the outskirts of the wood until she was much further to the north.
Having made up her mind to go back the way she had come she was about to turn Argil around when a new feeling suddenly swept over her. Slowly a smile spread across her face. She scanned the surrounding treetops but could see nothing. In all her long years in Middle-earth she had not yet discovered how to spot an elf who did not wish to be seen. ""I cannot see you, but I know you are there. I am a friend of the Woodland Elves, though it has been many years since I have visited your land."
Suddenly an elf landed, cat-like, on the ground in front of her. In her head she cursed that he had been able to get so close without her perceiving him. The elf stood up straight and regarded her for a moment. He was blonde, like most of Thranduil's people with the gray eyes of the Silvan elves. "You are most welcome, your highness, in Greenwood the Great. And though it has been many years since you dwelt among us I remember still," the elf inclined his head respectfully, "However, if you are the elf-friend you claim then why is your weapon at the ready?"
Annalome sighed, "Forgive me, your highness, until this moment I had feared I was in grave danger." Annalome returned her bow to the saddle catch and the arrow to her quiver then dismounted. She inclined her head in the elf's direction, "I had not expected to find you, Prince Legolas, but I am grateful for your presence."
The hint of a smile had been playing on Legolas's face, but at the mention of danger it had turned into a decided frown. "My lady, we also have sensed this danger. I know not its source, but my father has bestowed upon me the task of discovering it."
That the elves were aware of the same danger she felt was of some comfort, but it made her uneasy that they were as puzzled by it as she was. "Where is the source of this uneasiness, my lord?"
Legolas turned his gaze to the north and west, "It lies in that direction, my lady, towards Amon-I-taur."
Both Legolas and Annalome stood for sometime staring in the direction that the great hill lay. The momentary respite their conversation had provided was disrupted once again as the silence once more settled in, thick and suffocating.
Movement caught Annalome's eye, and her hand flinched involuntarily for the knife she had left on Argil's saddle. Another elf appeared out of the trees on her right. She allowed herself a small sigh of relief even as she and Legolas were joined by four additional elves. Legolas introduced her, but there was no need. Annalome remembered each of them and they in turn had not forgotten her.
The youngest prince of Greenwood the Great gave orders for the others to set a perimeter. The sun had begun its westward descent, and Legolas decided that they would make their camp for the night at this place. Ainaelin, a female elf with uncharacteristically blue eyes, helped Annalome to remove her belongings from Argil. Legolas and his companions had horses that were grazing nearby, and Ainaelin took Argil to join them.
Once the others had been set to their various tasks Legolas turned around to face Annalome, the worry clearly visible in his fine elven features. "What brings you to this part of Greenwood the Great, my lady?"
Annalome sighed, "Might we dispense with the formalities? It has been hundreds of years since I was a queen of Arnor, and such titles no longer suit me. When last we met you called me Annalome and I called you Legolas."
Legolas smiled sadly, "That was many years ago, but it will be as you wish, Annalome."
Annalome stared curiously at the elf. Strange that Legolas considered 800 years such a long time. Amongst the Firstborn it was a short time indeed. It occurred to her that Legolas, despite his years of experience, was still young for an elf and perhaps did not see the world in the same way. Instantly she felt a kinship with him that she had never felt during her time in Miregroth. "I was journeying to your father's hall, Legolas. I came from the woods of Lothlorien, and I had a mind to ride through this wood on my way."
Legolas nodded, "Tomorrow, I will send Ainaelin as your escort to Miregroth. This quiet and uneasiness will lessen as you travel north, but I would not have any harm come to my brother's daughter."
Annalome shook her head, "No, Legolas, I wish to remain and join in your hunt. There is something very wrong here in Greenwood, and I would know what it is."
The elf did not respond, but seemed to consider her for a moment. Finally, as if reaching some decision he said, "I cannot say for certain, but I sense there is evil in this. The feel of it is new, and so barely felt, but I grow more certain of it with each passing hour. I do not know what we will encounter. It would be better for you to continue on to Miregroth with Ainaelin."
"If you are unsure of the danger then it would be foolish to leave yourself with one less to help defend against the unforeseeable. If I remain then Ainaelin will remain as well, and with myself you would then have an additional force against the threat." Seeing Legolas was not going to agree she continued, "If you are concerned that I would be more of a hindrance than a help, then remember that I was once Queen of Arnor. The royal family, be they male or female, are well educated in the arts of battle. And if this does not suffice then perhaps you should remember who it was that taught me the bow."
Legolas shook his head, "I can see that your stubbornness has not diminished in all your long years." The elf turned and Annalome detected the hint of a sigh before he said, "You are no longer my father's subject, and therefore I have no authority to order you to leave. You are however, in my father's realm, and as my father and elder brothers are not here I am given authority to rule as I see fit. I will send you away if I feel your life is threatened."
"I find this acceptable, Legolas. Let us pray, however, that the situation does not warrant such action."
Legolas nodded slowly, "Let us prepare our camp for the night then. It will be much colder this evening. We should gather what wood we can for a fire," the elf-prince turned to gaze once more in the direction of Amon-i- taur. Once again the silence descended leaving Annalome feeling ill at ease. When Legolas turned towards her once more her own feelings were mirrored in his fine elven features. He seemed to consider her for a few moments then said; "I think we should take to the trees for our rest this night, though it may prove to be of some discomfort for you, Annalome. Perhaps this peculiar silence has made me anxious for naught, but I would rather take the precaution than regret not having done so this evening."
Annalome smiled, "Do not worry for my comfort, Legolas. This would not be my first night sleeping in the trees." Stooping down, Annalome reached into one of her saddlebags and retrieved what seemed a great mesh of rope. Looking up into the boughs of a nearby oak she nodded as she found what she was looking for. Throwing the rope over one shoulder she grasped the branch nearest to the ground, which was almost as thick as the trunk itself, and pulled herself up on top of it. She was grateful for the divided skirts she wore for riding otherwise her ascent into the large oak would have proven quite difficult. Still, she knew she must appear very graceless indeed in the eyes of a Woodland Elf.
When she had reached a point some twenty feet above the ground she took the rope bundle from under her arm and began unraveling it. She tied one end to the branch she stood on and the other end to one nearby, and at the same level as the first. Between the two branches was a large meshwork of rope. Carefully she climbed into her bed of rope and lay down. From below she heard the golden laughter of not one, but five elves. Looking down she could see Legolas and his band of elves staring up at her. Tauron, a very tall elf who Annalome remembered for the lovely songs he would sing for Thranduil's people at special gatherings, called up to her in his melodious voice, "It seems that soon only the shape of one's ear will tell if they be man or elf, if the Secondborn have now taken to sleeping in the trees."
Annalome laughed out loud then sat up and carefully made her way out of her makeshift bed and onto the sturdy branch of the oak. It was much more difficult getting down than up, but she eventually made her way to the forest floor. "Nay, Tauron, few in the race of men would sleep in my rope- bed, as I have named it, but it suits me well." The air was filled with the sounds of elven laughter once more. The sounds were more welcome than the uncanny silence, and Annalome found herself joining them.
Legolas gave orders for Ainaelin and Teiglin, who was the son of one of Legolas's sisters, to prepare for evening meal while Tauron and Curuwen stood guard. He and Annalome left the camp to search for firewood.
They had not gone far when Legolas spoke, "You are traveling alone, and you have come from Lothlorien. Is all well with you?"
If she could have done so without the sharp ears of the elf catching her she would have sighed, "Were I any other woman I would expect such a question, but I am not any other woman."
Confusion was evident in the elf's eyes. This time Annalome sighed out loud, "Legolas, I have lived for more than 800 years, as have you. My husband, children, even my children's children's children have long since passed from this land. The realm of Arnor, for which I was once the queen, is no longer. Those who are descended from me fear me, and have cast me out of their realm. You ask me if all is well. How should I answer you?"
Where confusion had been now Annalome read pity in the elf-prince's eyes. "I am sorry, Annalome. It is true that your longevity is a mystery to the elves as well, but our own immortality has blinded me to your plight. Please forgive me."
"All is forgiven, Legolas. I have been harsh with you as well. I have traveled to Lothlorien and to Greenwood the Great with expectations of acceptance and understanding. You have done both, and I have rebuked you for it. I also am sorry, and would beg your forgiveness."
Legolas raised one hand, "There is no need, Annalome. I have found no offense in your words."
Annalome nodded, and the two continued gathering wood for some while in silence. When Legolas finally spoke again it was almost as a whisper, as if he were afraid of breaking the silence that surrounded them. "I have never visited the realm of Lothlorien, though many of my brothers and sisters have before I was born. Is it as beautiful as they say?"
"Yes, and more so than words could ever describe." Annalome closed her eyes and sighed remembering the beautiful trees and people she had met. "Though, I was told by the elves who dwell there that the trees are even more beautiful when autumn comes. I should like to visit then if I am able."
"As would I, though there is little contact between the Woodland Elves and the Elves of Lothlorien now. Few of the elves of Miregroth have ever seen Caras Galadon or Rivendell, and only those who hearken to the call of the sea have seen the Grey Havens." The prince fell suddenly silent.
Empathy welled in Annalome for the youngest elf of Greenwood, "I have seen many of your people as they traveled through Arnor on their way to the Great Sea, and each year there are more." Annalome placed her hand on Legolas's arm, "I am sorry for your loss, Legolas. It must be a heavy burden to bear."
Legolas's eyes were wells of anguish, "My mother departed for Valinor soon after your leaving, and many of my brothers and sisters have gone as well."
A knot formed in Annalome's stomach as she watched Legolas struggle to find suitable words, but the pain in his eyes betrayed his thoughts. Tears came unbidden to her cheeks, "Gaerlin has gone then." It was a statement, not a question.
The elf nodded, "He became increasingly withdrawn after you left for Arnor with Prince Tarcil. He agreed to accompany my mother to the Havens but never returned."
Annalome wept unashamedly. Legolas took her hand in his, "He did not forget you, Annalome. When we return to Miregroth I have something he left in my care to give to you should you ever return to Greenwood."
Gripping Legolas's hand tightly she looked into his eyes, "It is a cruel thing that I know not if I shall ever lay eyes on him again."
Legolas produced a small piece of fine elven cloth and handed it to Annalome. She dabbed her eyes as he said, "I may hold the happiness of knowing I will one day be reunited with those who have already departed, but I am certain you and Gaerlin will be reunited one day as well. Except for the evil Morgoth, the Valar are not cruel. You will not endure eternity alone, Annalome."
Annalome smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Legolas. It seems that you have seen your way clear to the heart of my troubles, and your words have given me much peace."
Legolas squeezed her hand once more then continued on in search of more wood. Annalome followed, her heart lighter than it had been in hundreds of years.
When they returned to camp they found that the others had not been idle. The smell of vegetables stewing reminded Annalome that she had not eaten since early that morning. She went to the fire and set the firewood she had collected on the ground nearby. Standing to stretch tired muscles she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. The sun had almost set and a shadow had been cast over much of the forest, but she was certain she had seen movement in the trees.
Whispering so as not to disturb whatever it was Annalome said, "Legolas, you have better eyes than I. See you there in the topmost branches of the oak to the east of our camp, is that not a bird?"
Legolas stared intently in the tree Annalome had described. Before she knew what had happened he had taken an arrow from the quiver on his back along with his bow and in one fluid motion sent the arrow in the direction of the tree. She could clearly hear the arrow hit its mark, and then the thud of Legolas's prey as it fell to the earth.
All activity ceased in the camp as the other elves turned to stare at what had provoked their prince to use his weapon. Legolas, however, offered no explanation and quickly walked to where his target had fallen. Annalome and the other elves followed rightt behind him. He crouched down over the large bird, and Annalome caught her breath as she saw the arrow's target. Lying on the ground was a large, black raven pierced through the breast by Legolas's arrow.
The prince picked up the bird and wrenched his arrow free of its flesh throwing the carcass into the deep of the woods. Rising he turned to face the others, "It is one of the Dark One's own spies. My feelings were not misguided." His gaze once again drifted towards Amon-i-taur, "There is great evil at work nearby."
Amon-I-taur - Hill of the Wood. I made it up. Very original don't you think.
Firstborn - the elves
Caras Galadon - the capital city of Lothlorien
Grey Havens - on the Gulf of Lune on the western shore of Middle-earth. Most elves departed for the Undying Lands from here.