The forest of Mirkwood was dark and dense and neither Aragorn nor Anarrima
could see very far in front of them. The trees seemed to close in on them
slowly, very slowly. They could feel that eyes all around them as their
horses trotted along. Feeling a chill run through her, she pulled her cloak
close around her and kept her elven dagger ready at her side.
"The air is so close and suffocating," Aragorn said, searching the surroundings and listening intently. "It feels as if an evil is spreading, like a shadow over the land."
" Do we stop?" Anarrima inquired looking around the forest. Her silver eyes swept through the trees like a hunter searching its prey.
"No, we do not stop until dawn. Our company is awaiting us at the Great River," Aragorn said and returned his gaze forward. So on they went.
Most of the night brought them little trouble. Knowing those lands well Anarrima was leading them to the Old Forest Road, which lead out of Mirkwood and straight to the Great River Anduin.
"Your skills are very sharp," Aragorn commented. "A fine Ranger you will make."
Ana looked down from the path ahead, grateful that the elvish cloak she wore hid her well from unfriendly eyes. "Not everyone agrees with you."
"There was a presence about your father that was dark and mysterious," Aragorn admitted quietly. "He felt so... distant."
"That was not my father," she said. "Those were not his words."
" Do not let false words weigh your heart," Aragorn began, "even if those words come from the mouth of someone you love."
Anarrima lifted her gaze from the ground to meet Aragorn's eyes. She held so much honor for this man and yet she hadn't known him but for only a day. She smiled at him, realizing the truth in his words.
"Lord Elrond has taught you much in the lore of elven wisdom," she jested and Aragorn gave a small chuckle.
"Yes he has."
Legolas sat under a mallorn tree, gazing off into the deep forest. It had only been hours since Anarrima departed but it felt like so much longer. Though the moon and stars persuaded him to sleep, Legolas was restless. The leaves rustled in the breeze and his own thoughts reminded him of all the years Ana spent in Mirkwood. He remembered the first time he saw her. She was so different from anything he had ever seen; even if he was too young to realize it at the time. A Moriquendi; they were supposed to be evil, but she didn't seem evil at all. An unlikely and uncommon friend she was indeed. To pass the time until dawn he decided to take a walk around the palace gardens.
On they went through Mirkwood, each hour bringing them closer to the clearing of the forest. Though confident they could make it without trouble, Anarrima still kept a sharp lookout for anything and everything.
Suddenly she stopped, sensing something evil about them. She pulled an arrow from the quiver on her back and placed it to the bow. Looking down at the arrow against the string she smiled to herself, these were Legolas' arrows. 'Stubborn elf,' she thought, 'he must have replaced them when I wasn't looking.' Her elven senses perked up once again when that evil feeling returned and became stronger.
"Aragorn, do you feel that?"
"I do," he replied, unsheathing his sword and unmounting his horse. Growing up in Imladris he knew better than anyone to trust the elves when danger is sensed.
Anarrima unmounted Dimrost and pulled her hood off and readied herself for what they may face. All the forest fell quiet. No sound was heard, no wind blew. As if a large shadow crept through the trees it appeared before them. It stood high above them, menacing and deadly. Eight legs supported his huge, swelled body. This spider of Mirkwood had found its evening meal.
"The air is so close and suffocating," Aragorn said, searching the surroundings and listening intently. "It feels as if an evil is spreading, like a shadow over the land."
" Do we stop?" Anarrima inquired looking around the forest. Her silver eyes swept through the trees like a hunter searching its prey.
"No, we do not stop until dawn. Our company is awaiting us at the Great River," Aragorn said and returned his gaze forward. So on they went.
Most of the night brought them little trouble. Knowing those lands well Anarrima was leading them to the Old Forest Road, which lead out of Mirkwood and straight to the Great River Anduin.
"Your skills are very sharp," Aragorn commented. "A fine Ranger you will make."
Ana looked down from the path ahead, grateful that the elvish cloak she wore hid her well from unfriendly eyes. "Not everyone agrees with you."
"There was a presence about your father that was dark and mysterious," Aragorn admitted quietly. "He felt so... distant."
"That was not my father," she said. "Those were not his words."
" Do not let false words weigh your heart," Aragorn began, "even if those words come from the mouth of someone you love."
Anarrima lifted her gaze from the ground to meet Aragorn's eyes. She held so much honor for this man and yet she hadn't known him but for only a day. She smiled at him, realizing the truth in his words.
"Lord Elrond has taught you much in the lore of elven wisdom," she jested and Aragorn gave a small chuckle.
"Yes he has."
Legolas sat under a mallorn tree, gazing off into the deep forest. It had only been hours since Anarrima departed but it felt like so much longer. Though the moon and stars persuaded him to sleep, Legolas was restless. The leaves rustled in the breeze and his own thoughts reminded him of all the years Ana spent in Mirkwood. He remembered the first time he saw her. She was so different from anything he had ever seen; even if he was too young to realize it at the time. A Moriquendi; they were supposed to be evil, but she didn't seem evil at all. An unlikely and uncommon friend she was indeed. To pass the time until dawn he decided to take a walk around the palace gardens.
On they went through Mirkwood, each hour bringing them closer to the clearing of the forest. Though confident they could make it without trouble, Anarrima still kept a sharp lookout for anything and everything.
Suddenly she stopped, sensing something evil about them. She pulled an arrow from the quiver on her back and placed it to the bow. Looking down at the arrow against the string she smiled to herself, these were Legolas' arrows. 'Stubborn elf,' she thought, 'he must have replaced them when I wasn't looking.' Her elven senses perked up once again when that evil feeling returned and became stronger.
"Aragorn, do you feel that?"
"I do," he replied, unsheathing his sword and unmounting his horse. Growing up in Imladris he knew better than anyone to trust the elves when danger is sensed.
Anarrima unmounted Dimrost and pulled her hood off and readied herself for what they may face. All the forest fell quiet. No sound was heard, no wind blew. As if a large shadow crept through the trees it appeared before them. It stood high above them, menacing and deadly. Eight legs supported his huge, swelled body. This spider of Mirkwood had found its evening meal.
