The Light of Laurelin
The light of the new morning shone faintly through the thickness of the dark trees, casting more shadows than it illuminated. Occasionally, a glimpse of pink or orange from the sunrise in the East could be seen through a break in the boughs, but otherwise, Laurelin was engulfed entirely by a heavy darkness that seemed almost hungry. The trees, the vines, and the very path she rode upon had all succumbed to the blackness, and the panic tickling Laurelin's spine told her she wasn't far from surrender herself.
A bone deep weariness had descended upon her once she'd crossed over the Celduin River and entered the ominous forest of Greenwood the Great. She'd been riding hard for nearly a year now, resting little and in constant wariness of danger. It was this alertness that had saved her many times on the ride across the vastness of Rhûn, but the exhausting awareness would also be the end of her if she didn't reach the caverns of Thranduil soon.
Yet she was so close, she could not give up now.
"Elbereth, give me strength," she murmured, lifting the desperate prayer to the heavens, hoping the distant Valar would hear and heed her plead.
Her strength held and she strained to listen for anything amiss, fighting a losing battle with the heavy air that would muffle any noise nearby. But faintly, over the sound of Ranadol's thundering hoof beats, another set could be heard, like staccato drums pounding in the distance.
Laurelin quickly pulled her horse to a halt, listening intently.
Yes, without a doubt, another horse was galloping through the forest from the North, loud and clear - and heading directly towards her. Hearing the sound in the quiet as well, Ranadol snorted a warning. Unfortunately, the signal meant for her instead warned the nearby rider; the approaching hoof beats slowed and ceased.
"Ndinen," [Be silent] she whispered, pulling the black hood of her cloak over her head and steering the horse off the path. Pulling her sword from its sheath, Laurelin readied herself for whatever was to come.
About 30 paces ahead of her was a slight clearing in the trees around the path, letting the first rays of the rising sun onto the path. This could lend her the advantage if she was able to spot the other rider while remaining hidden. Keeping herself back in the shadows, Laurelin let all her senses hone to their highest awareness and still heard nothing.
Ranadol shifted slightly, disturbing the brush around them and Laurelin cursed inwardly. Her horse was normally very good at stealth and cover, but tonight he was as weary as she.
The silence was eerie. Dawn had come and gone and still no song of birds could be heard, no rustle of squirrels and rabbits - or even giant spiders, as she'd heard rumor; only utter stillness.
That is why when a twig cracked with a resonant 'thwap', Laurelin was off her horse and upon her attacker within a blink of the eye.
And found herself face to face with the very sharp point of a loaded arrow, steady and ready to fly. The edge of her blade was at the archer's neck, mere hairs away from slicing the exposed flesh of his throat.
Laurelin met an icy blue gaze and froze.
Stalemate.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ooh. I wonder what happens next! By the way, if a beta reader reads this story and wants a job, e-mail me at lauren8415@hotmail.com. Thank you! Lauren
The light of the new morning shone faintly through the thickness of the dark trees, casting more shadows than it illuminated. Occasionally, a glimpse of pink or orange from the sunrise in the East could be seen through a break in the boughs, but otherwise, Laurelin was engulfed entirely by a heavy darkness that seemed almost hungry. The trees, the vines, and the very path she rode upon had all succumbed to the blackness, and the panic tickling Laurelin's spine told her she wasn't far from surrender herself.
A bone deep weariness had descended upon her once she'd crossed over the Celduin River and entered the ominous forest of Greenwood the Great. She'd been riding hard for nearly a year now, resting little and in constant wariness of danger. It was this alertness that had saved her many times on the ride across the vastness of Rhûn, but the exhausting awareness would also be the end of her if she didn't reach the caverns of Thranduil soon.
Yet she was so close, she could not give up now.
"Elbereth, give me strength," she murmured, lifting the desperate prayer to the heavens, hoping the distant Valar would hear and heed her plead.
Her strength held and she strained to listen for anything amiss, fighting a losing battle with the heavy air that would muffle any noise nearby. But faintly, over the sound of Ranadol's thundering hoof beats, another set could be heard, like staccato drums pounding in the distance.
Laurelin quickly pulled her horse to a halt, listening intently.
Yes, without a doubt, another horse was galloping through the forest from the North, loud and clear - and heading directly towards her. Hearing the sound in the quiet as well, Ranadol snorted a warning. Unfortunately, the signal meant for her instead warned the nearby rider; the approaching hoof beats slowed and ceased.
"Ndinen," [Be silent] she whispered, pulling the black hood of her cloak over her head and steering the horse off the path. Pulling her sword from its sheath, Laurelin readied herself for whatever was to come.
About 30 paces ahead of her was a slight clearing in the trees around the path, letting the first rays of the rising sun onto the path. This could lend her the advantage if she was able to spot the other rider while remaining hidden. Keeping herself back in the shadows, Laurelin let all her senses hone to their highest awareness and still heard nothing.
Ranadol shifted slightly, disturbing the brush around them and Laurelin cursed inwardly. Her horse was normally very good at stealth and cover, but tonight he was as weary as she.
The silence was eerie. Dawn had come and gone and still no song of birds could be heard, no rustle of squirrels and rabbits - or even giant spiders, as she'd heard rumor; only utter stillness.
That is why when a twig cracked with a resonant 'thwap', Laurelin was off her horse and upon her attacker within a blink of the eye.
And found herself face to face with the very sharp point of a loaded arrow, steady and ready to fly. The edge of her blade was at the archer's neck, mere hairs away from slicing the exposed flesh of his throat.
Laurelin met an icy blue gaze and froze.
Stalemate.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ooh. I wonder what happens next! By the way, if a beta reader reads this story and wants a job, e-mail me at lauren8415@hotmail.com. Thank you! Lauren