Legolas lay on his back. Through his cloak, tunic and underclothing, he could feel the dips and rolls of the damp, loamy ground grate painfully on his weary muscles. No matter how tight he pulled the folds of the cloak around him, the freezing gnarled wasps of air slithered through and forced back the comfort that might induce sleep. His eyes were open and his mind lay in that ghostly ambit that bridged his waking senses and his dreams. Even in such a state, the elf found that an embittered smile tweaked his frozen lips. Not three hours before, a peculiar figure had arrived at their camp. Though he had not said a word, nor given any clue as to his identity, his sudden appearance was enough of a distraction that none of the group had realised that the pair of Rohirrim steeds had bolted.
And so now they rested. They had not found the hobbits, they had lost the horses and they had surrendered perhaps their most valuable remaining charge to the clutches of those to whom they owed what they could now not pay. He missed Nephryn badly. In the last days and weeks, though they'd had many dangerous encounters and they had not always been on good terms, Legolas had become accustomed to having her under his watchful eye, and more than he cared to admit, he'd grown fond of the comfort he found in her presence, both physically and emotionally.
Now, he knew naught of her well-being and he doubted that the discomfort that stood stoically between him and rest was entirely due freezing temperature. He recalled her last words to him. Today is the tomorrow you feared yesterday, and still all is well. He'd told her that in the first hours he'd met her. She'd been dazed and incoherent, cradled in front of him, as he rode faster than he'd ever done before. She'd called out in blind fear, barely able to grasp where she was as the pain of her wounds brought fevered nightmares to life. He'd intoned those words softly, repeating them like a mantra, as though they might keep at bay the fear and the clutches of death. They were words first spoken by his own mother, and they given him much solace in his life, and as he'd repeated them on that frenzied dash to Rivendell, it was as much for his own reassurance as it was for the semi-conscious elf maid. When Nephryn had recalled the words to him, he'd been very surprised. He'd always assumed that the elf-maid remembered little of their first encounter. Now it seemed that this was not so.
The sounds of the forest around him drew Legolas from his thoughts. The tender chilling breeze teased the barren limbs of the forest into a cacophony of whispering. Every movement that broke the stillness of their surroundings was caught and echoed by that wind. To the sensitive ears of the elf, it seemed that the forest of Fangorn was instilled with life, the nature of which was quite beyond him.
It was in this numinous atmosphere, under the silted silver glow of moonlight that Legolas first became aware of a presence other than that of their own group. Initially the figure might have been passed off as a figment of tired eyes and an overcautious mind for it was shrouded in shadow. Only the softly spun silver hair that glinted dully from beneath a hood indicated that it was more than an illusion.
Moving with the grace and fluidity of a feline, Legolas rose silently to his feet, his hands feeling blindly for the solid bow. Numb fingers finally found the cold smooth wood of his weapon and he used it to reach across and nudge his sleeping companions. Aragorn woke instantly at the touch and rose up quietly, brow drawn in confusion and worry. Legolas did not speak but gestured in the direction of their visitor.
Aragorn had not moved to wake Gimli, but he too started at their movements, grumbling loudly as he turned to them. To Legolas's ears, the dwarf's resounding voice was a thunderous roar that shattered the still of the night. And while his ears were more acute than most, it seemed that the stranger too had become aware that he had been noticed. Abandoning all attempts at stealth, the figure moved quickly out of the bushes, brittle undergrowth snapping loudly.
"Stop him!" Aragorn cried to Legolas, as he himself stooped to seize his own sword. They ran together, but their efforts were in vain, for as soon as the chase had begun, it had ended. The stranger had decided that he could not outrun them and slowed to a halt raising his hands up in surrender.
Aragorn squinted in the dark. Legolas knew that the man could not see what he could. The figure before them was clad in long heavy robes. He was very tall, and the silhouetted outline of his extended hands spoke volumes of his age. His fingers were long and gnarled, skin worn and paper-thin. The elf could not make out any weapons concealed in his robes, but in the dim light, he could not be certain.
"Turn around slowly, please." Aragorn's low menacing tone implied his caution.
As the man complied, Legolas could see better now what they were dealing with. Clearly male, and he appeared quite old. He stooped slightly, as one might if one was saddled with the weight of experience and age. He wore a deep hood, and his eyes were heavily shadowed, but Legolas could clearly make out a long beard. He looked familiar, not in feature, but rather in presence.
"Remove your hood." Aragorn circled around to his left, raising his sword as he did so. At the same time, Legolas reached down and pulled a singled arrow from his boot. As he nocked it, he could feel the painful tug on the torn muscle and skin of his injured arm and found that he could not yet draw back fully. But their visitor did not know this, and Legolas trained the arrow on him as he reached up and swept the fabric off his face.
Just as he did so, Gimli arrived beside Legolas, axe hoisted high at his side. But the elf's eyes were fixed on the figure before them. As the hood was dropped, the man raised his eyes out of shadow and Legolas released a breath that he'd didn't even remember holding. Even in the illusory moonlight, Legolas could see the sparkle in the clear blue eyes that stared straight at him
"Mithrandir!" He murmured in amazement.
A short one, I know, but I just needed a change of scenery… more to follow, I swear.