The road was long and Prince Legolas of Mirkwood was weary of the dust
and sun that choked him and his companion's path. He and his fellow Lords
had gone ahead of their troops, hoping to reach the rendezvous point with
the Lords from Lothlorien by dusk. They were only a few miles away.
"My Lords, let us have a game to pass the time," Spoke Morcertar, a dark young elf with a laugh like Tulkas and just as much energy.
"What sort of game?" Questioned Lord Comare, who was generally a very serious and clear thinking elf, but had taken kindly to the young and vigorous Morcertar.
"I think a race would be in order, do you not agree, your highness," Pondered Morcertar, bringing his horse to a trot.
A smile burst across Legolas's fair face and met Morcertar's challenge by bringing his own steed to a gallop. Morcertar's loud and bounding laugh echoed as he and Legolas sped down the road. Comare followed behind at a canter, his silver curls flying behind in the wind as they kicked up the dirt of the road into the air.
Indeed it did bring the day to a fine end, and they ended their race at the meeting point just outside the eaves of Fangorn, where the elves of Lorien had already assembled and were waiting.
"A fine win, I dare say," Spoke Morcertar loudly, dismounting.
"Win? Did I hear the word 'win' seep from your lips, my Lord?" Said Comare, "Nay, tis I who beat you and my prince,"
"What do you speak of?" Protested Legolas, "I belted you both. It is well known that my horse is the fastest in the whole of Greenwood,"
"Then I may wonder why you were not here at the appointed time?" Spoke a new voice, not heard as of yet.
The Lords turned to see three elves standing in the light of fires and stars that were above and about them.
"I believe this is time agreed with my father and the Lords of Lorien," Said Legolas, stepping forward.
"You were said to be here by dusk. It has been several hours since the sun set into the mountains," Said the elf.
She stood tall, with the fair hair of her kind and sharp eyes that pierced the heart of many a foe and friend. She was clad in the dress of the archers of Lorien, her locks lying on her shoulders.
"Apologies, my Lady," Said Legolas putting his hand to his heart as a sign of respect, "May I introduce myself and my companions. This is Lord Morcertar and Lord Comare, and I am Prince Legolas of the Woodland realm."
The fair elf returned the sign of respect and bowed, "My Lord, I am Lady Mithliriel, daughter of Haldir, former March Warden of Galadhrim of Lorien. This is my own daughter, Lady Hrívëwen, and my brother Lord Anordil."
Lady Mithliriel's brother was likened to her in the face, though his hair was more of his father's color, silver like the dawn. Her daughter, however, looked nothing like her mother or uncle. Her fiery locks were a rare color for elves, being of the same tone as the sun during the summer. Her green eyes seemed to burn in the light of the moon.
"Daughter of the Former March Warden?" Questioned Legolas, "Where is Haldir?"
"He went into the west a few months ago," Replied Mithliriel, "My mother's death caused him to despair greatly. It was for the best."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Spoke Morcertar, who had lost his own father to grief a few years before. Legolas noticed how the young elf's eyes seemed to linger long on the Granddaughter of Haldir and he smirked slightly.
"Thank you," Replied Mithliriel, "But now is not the time for talk. We must ride hard now. The mountains await."
The elves were already collecting camp as the Lord of Mirkwood walked their horses through the dissembling camp of ashes and voices.
"We ride till the morning," Spoke Lady Mithliriel, "By then we should reach the Gondorian Camp,"
Legolas had to admit his blooming respect for the cold, fair elf archeress, and he wondered who her spouse was as he mounted his steed after they both had gotten a drink of water. It was a silvery stream where they drank, born of snow and sun. By the creek grew a slender tree which caught the Prince's attention. Within its bark was embedded an arrow that was spilt by another.
He wondered who had been here before as he mounted his horse and led it toward the departing company.
"My Lords, let us have a game to pass the time," Spoke Morcertar, a dark young elf with a laugh like Tulkas and just as much energy.
"What sort of game?" Questioned Lord Comare, who was generally a very serious and clear thinking elf, but had taken kindly to the young and vigorous Morcertar.
"I think a race would be in order, do you not agree, your highness," Pondered Morcertar, bringing his horse to a trot.
A smile burst across Legolas's fair face and met Morcertar's challenge by bringing his own steed to a gallop. Morcertar's loud and bounding laugh echoed as he and Legolas sped down the road. Comare followed behind at a canter, his silver curls flying behind in the wind as they kicked up the dirt of the road into the air.
Indeed it did bring the day to a fine end, and they ended their race at the meeting point just outside the eaves of Fangorn, where the elves of Lorien had already assembled and were waiting.
"A fine win, I dare say," Spoke Morcertar loudly, dismounting.
"Win? Did I hear the word 'win' seep from your lips, my Lord?" Said Comare, "Nay, tis I who beat you and my prince,"
"What do you speak of?" Protested Legolas, "I belted you both. It is well known that my horse is the fastest in the whole of Greenwood,"
"Then I may wonder why you were not here at the appointed time?" Spoke a new voice, not heard as of yet.
The Lords turned to see three elves standing in the light of fires and stars that were above and about them.
"I believe this is time agreed with my father and the Lords of Lorien," Said Legolas, stepping forward.
"You were said to be here by dusk. It has been several hours since the sun set into the mountains," Said the elf.
She stood tall, with the fair hair of her kind and sharp eyes that pierced the heart of many a foe and friend. She was clad in the dress of the archers of Lorien, her locks lying on her shoulders.
"Apologies, my Lady," Said Legolas putting his hand to his heart as a sign of respect, "May I introduce myself and my companions. This is Lord Morcertar and Lord Comare, and I am Prince Legolas of the Woodland realm."
The fair elf returned the sign of respect and bowed, "My Lord, I am Lady Mithliriel, daughter of Haldir, former March Warden of Galadhrim of Lorien. This is my own daughter, Lady Hrívëwen, and my brother Lord Anordil."
Lady Mithliriel's brother was likened to her in the face, though his hair was more of his father's color, silver like the dawn. Her daughter, however, looked nothing like her mother or uncle. Her fiery locks were a rare color for elves, being of the same tone as the sun during the summer. Her green eyes seemed to burn in the light of the moon.
"Daughter of the Former March Warden?" Questioned Legolas, "Where is Haldir?"
"He went into the west a few months ago," Replied Mithliriel, "My mother's death caused him to despair greatly. It was for the best."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Spoke Morcertar, who had lost his own father to grief a few years before. Legolas noticed how the young elf's eyes seemed to linger long on the Granddaughter of Haldir and he smirked slightly.
"Thank you," Replied Mithliriel, "But now is not the time for talk. We must ride hard now. The mountains await."
The elves were already collecting camp as the Lord of Mirkwood walked their horses through the dissembling camp of ashes and voices.
"We ride till the morning," Spoke Lady Mithliriel, "By then we should reach the Gondorian Camp,"
Legolas had to admit his blooming respect for the cold, fair elf archeress, and he wondered who her spouse was as he mounted his steed after they both had gotten a drink of water. It was a silvery stream where they drank, born of snow and sun. By the creek grew a slender tree which caught the Prince's attention. Within its bark was embedded an arrow that was spilt by another.
He wondered who had been here before as he mounted his horse and led it toward the departing company.