Just a little story that I thought of—something that, for once, would not be a Legomance (Legolas Romance). I read somewhere on a review on another website that Legolas was a warrior, not a romantic womanizer, so this is my way of agreeing with them. It won't evolve into romance, I promise you that.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Lord of the Rings or J. R. R. Tolkien (which is too bad), nor do I own Legolas, Thranduil, Mirkwood, Dol Guldur, or any other familiar name. I do, however, own Anathen, Firaniel, and Nyatha. Oh, and Avormith and Kivan, and other unfamiliar names.
If you like it, review it. If you don't, review it anyway. If my Elvish is wrong, if my grammar is not good, or if there are any spelling mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me!
And to answer my reviewers:
Orangeblossom: Glad to see you like it! Any relation to the Orangeblossom of "Ninecompanions.net"?
Carol: Oh, the chapters will come as fast as possible.
Countess of Nad Mullach: Very obsessed with Eolair, aren't you? lol Thanks for reading ^.^
Morgan le Fay: Tragic past? No indeedy. Nyatha actually has a kind of boring one. In the third chapter more will be learned about Nyatha's mysterious past.
Whitewolf: I love your stories! I fixed that little typo, I think. Yes, it was meant to be her, but sometimes I make mistakes while typing. Don't know how I missed that one, actually. More Nyatha explanations coming in the chapter after this... and of course, you do learn more in this chapter.
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As the sun rose, flooding the camp in Mirkwood with green-gold light, so did Legolas, brushing off a leaf that had fallen upon him as he had rested overnight. He stood gracefully, and wandered over to Avormith to greet her, and stroke her soft mane. Avormith had been guarding the saddle-bags and equipment that Legolas and Nyatha had brought on the orc-hunt.
Nyatha... Legolas looked at the young woman, who lay beneath an old tree, deep in slumber. She looked softer, less like a predator when she slept, he noted, more innocent. Her face seemed younger, more honest, more like a child's than the warrior she had been yesterday.
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts of his new companion, and bent down to strap the quiver upon his back again. He removed an arrow, nocked it to his bow, and left the camp, hunting for this morning's breakfast.
When he returned to the camp, two squirrels with him, Nyatha was awake, and sitting by a fire she had evidently made. The two horses grazed nearby, completely calm. She looked up as he moved closer to the fire.
"Good morning, Legolas," she said, "I thought you went hunting. I prepared," she added, nodding at the fire.
"And good morning to you also," he nodded.
The squirrels made an excellent breakfast.
After the meal, Kivan were saddled, and the two walked for a bit, finding the orcs' track. When it was found, which took only a few minutes—the orcs had not covered their trail well—the two mounted their horses and rode off, following the obvious trail.
Soon, however, their silent, watchful ride ended when they came upon signs of a scuffle, and many different trails spouting in different directions.
"You seek orcs, but I seek a man taken captive who is my elder by three years," spoke Nyatha, who dismounted and searched the ground. There was no blood, but the damage caused to greenery told the story. Legolas followed suit, and his keen eyes scanned the now-empty scene of the skirmish.
It appeared the orcs had fought, but there was something about the way the grass was trampled that seemed odd. Also, why would five new parties split up and go seperate ways?
"I will follow the trail that—aha!" Nyatha picked a thread off a thorny bush. It was dyed black; not a colour Lady Benawen wore.
"He was taken this way!" she pointed to the path that went straight south. "But there's another set of footsteps," she bent down, "Very light, but forced into an uncomfortable pace—"
"That would be the Lady Benawen," snarled Legolas in sudden rage. "Nasty, foul yrch!"
Nyatha turned to look at him in surprise at his sudden anger. Her expression radiated curiosity, and he calmed himself down, and spoke.
"Lady Benawen is my reason for being on this orc-hunt—she was bethrothed to me, but was captured while on a pleasure ride with her father. These nasty yrch made these false trails to mislead us. It makes no sense for five different parties to split up and go seperate ways. My guess is they're headed towards Dol Guldur."
He watched her carefully, but she made no sign that the name of 'Dol Guldur' was familiar to her. Even though she seemed honest, he in no way fully trusted her. She was quite secretive, and was of the race of Man besides. Not all were to be trusted, especially not in these days of fell creatures and worry.
"Dol Guldur?"
Legolas found himself needing to explain to her. "'Twas the stronghold of a Necromancer a few years ago. He was fell, and had been chased out. But Dol Guldur is still in place surrounded by fell things. Few are the Elves who dare go in that direction. It is dangerous."
His words were meant to discourage her, if he could. Warriors maids were rare and few—in fact, she was the first he'd heard of. What man—or woman at that—allow their daughter to take up arms and go on dangerous missions?
However, Nyatha showed no sign of fear, just determination. "Fell beasts or no, I go to..." she stopped, then went on with a sigh, "I go to rescue my brother."
"Your brother is the man taken captive?"
"Aye." She spoke no more, but whistled for Kivan, who came. She lept onto his back and kicked his sides gently. Legolas mounted Avormith and followed.
So, Nyatha's brother had been taken captive, and this was why she followed the orcs. This explained much, but raised more questions. Kivan suddenly burst into a slow gallop, and Avormith followed eagerly. Legolas set aside his questions for a later date—now was time to hunt yrch.