CHAPTER TWO

Across the sea, from distant shore,

I Lhathron, the one

She will come

- Fragment from I Lhathron

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Aduial had realized immediate what the light in the little clearing was. Someone had cast a passage and the human female had traveled through it. It took great skill and power to wield the magic required for such a feat; skill which, to the best of her knowledge, no longer resided in Middle-earth. Her mind immediately began considering possibilities as she observed the woman.

"Put away your bow," Aduial said in a barely audible whisper. She did not wish Legolas to frighten the woman.

"Under the circumstances I do not think that is advisable," whispered Legolas in reply.

"She has no weapons."

"None that we can see." He noticed that Aduial referred to the human as a she. Looking more closely Legolas noted the curving hips of a decidedly female form beneath the loose clothing she wore.

Aduial eyes met his eyes directly. "Trust me," she said, loosening her grip on his bow arm.

Legolas gave her a hard look. He lowered his bow, while cautiously observing the woman. She was examining her surroundings with slow guarded movements, still unaware of the elves' presence. He could sense fear and nervousness emanating from her. She began to turn towards them.

Both elves and woman felt their breaths catch in their throats, as three pairs of eyes darted from between one another. They stood in perfect stillness, fascinated with each other.

Legolas curiously observed the woman. She was obviously human though in the long millennia of his life, he had never seen a human like her before. She was tall and finely sculpted, which while unusual, was not unknown among her kind. She had long black hair that was braided in a foreign manner. Her nearly black eyes curved upward at the corners giving them a cat like appearance. They were set above well-defined cheekbones in an oval face. But most startling and delightful of all was her skin, which appeared smooth and darkly beautiful like polished wood.

Aduial was unprepared for the reaction that standing face to face with the woman caused. Memories thousands of years old came flooding back. Memories from a time when a small number of elves had set sail for the lands of the west, only to lose their course and arrive instead in the far south, across a great sea. Reaching Hassana, home of the anin 'dal Hassana where immortals and mortals alike resembled the woman who now stood in Eryn Lasgalen.

Ilorin was tense with shock and surprise at the sight of the two beings. She had thought the passage might have taken her to the lands on the other side of the Hassan Mountains, the Far Lands, as her people called it. But never had she heard of people such as these residing there.

Her eyes moved between them. They were exquisitely beautiful in form and figure with lithely elegant proportions. Their stances hinted at bodies capable of speed and grace that would rival the giant cats from the plains of her homeland.

Allowing her eyes to roam the length of their bodies, she noted that one was male and the other female. They were dressed in clothes of greens and browns that snugly hugged their bodies, with boots of soft brown leather, very unlike the brightly colored flowing robes and loose fitting pants favored by her people. Oddly, they glowed with an ethereal light as the sun was caught and then reflected from their pale skin. She allowed her eyes to drift back to their faces. Both had facial features as perfectly formed as their bodies, and she found them beautiful in their alien-ness. The male was particularly striking and Ilorin found it difficult to look away from the intense blue of his eyes.

"Greetings child," Aduial spoke in the Common tongue, her voice breaking the stillness of the moment.

Legolas mentally shook himself, and said, also in Common, "Greetings. What business have you in this realm?"

Ilorin frowned slightly at the two beings words. Their voices were wonderfully musical to her ears but she could not discern any meaning from their words. She shook her head slowly from side to side, hoping her lack of understanding was clear.

Both elves found themselves frowning slightly, realizing that the stranger did not understand.

Legolas began speaking hesitantly in Sindarin.

Ilorin frowned a bit deeper and shook her head again.

Legolas stopped speaking and pursed his lips. He started again, this time in Quenya.

Ilorin continued shaking her head.

Legolas' words trailed off. He tried once more, this time in Dwarvish. He was not surprised when the woman's only reply was to blink and look apologetic.

For several moments the three stood looking from one to the other in quiet frustration.

"It appears we have no common language," said Aduial in Sindarin.

"This is going to be difficult," replied Legolas.

"It is obvious we have only one option," continued Aduial, "we must take her back to the palace -"

"Aduial," interrupted Legolas, "that may not be the best course of action."

"Well we certainly can not leave her here."

Ilorin watched the two arguing in their unintelligible language, wishing she could decipher something of their language. She had concluded that they must be mages, and one or both of them had cast the passage she traveled through. Why were they angry? Was it something she had or hadn't done? What were they planning on doing to her?

Her eyes drifted down to their sides. They were both well armed with long knives, bows and arrows. With her lack of combat skills, Ilorin knew she was fairly helpless should they choose to attack.

Ilorin bit her lower lip as the two mages continued to argue. There was something vaguely familiar about them that tugged at the edges of her memory. Then she noticed their pointed ears. Immortals! At that moment her mind grasped the memory that had danced just beyond her reach. She saw herself as a small child sitting on her mother's lap while she read a book of tales about the immortals of their home. Some of the stories told of with pale skin ones from a distant land.

Ilorin walked toward a nearby rock and sat massaging her temples. She decided stepping through that passage had been a mistake. No matter that she lacked prospects at home, it couldn't have been worse than being stuck in a distant unknown land with two immortal mages who couldn't speak your language even if they stopped bickering long enough to talk to you.

"We can lead her to the palace but as a precaution her hands should be tied and a blindfold shall cover her eyes," said Legolas, who was annoyed and tired of arguing with Aduial.

"I do not believe that is necessary," said Aduial. "Just look at her. What harm can an unarmed woman such as she do?"

Legolas turned his attention back toward the woman. She was sitting on a rock with her head propped up with her right hand looking toward the trees. Her face held an expression somewhere between annoyance and dejection. A cool breeze swept through the clearing causing the woman to shiver under the thin material of her loose fitting clothes.

Aduial saw pity glistening in Legolas' eyes as he watched the woman. "We should hurry back with her if we wish to reach the city by nightfall. Autumn has only yet begun but the nights are already to cool for an ill prepared mortal," said Aduial, calling attention to the way the woman shivered in the slight breeze. She knew Legolas was not a harsh elf and would respond to the woman's mortal frailties.

Legolas sighed slightly and looked at Aduial with exasperation, though he knew she was correct. "How will we convince her to leave with us?"

"Perhaps if we start walking and gesture she will follow?" suggested Aduial with some uncertainty. She hadn't considered the possibility that the woman would refuse to go with them.

"Perhaps. I think we should at least attempt to communicate our wishes..." said Legolas stepping toward the woman who was still looking at the trees opposite them. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

Ilorin stiffened in surprise when she felt the hand of the male immortal on her shoulder. She turned and looked at him. His blue eyes were filled with compassion and pity. Ilorin felt herself bristle at his unuttered emotions. She did not want pity. She had received more than enough condescending pity from the few people of her class who had not backstabbed her when it was clear she could not work magic.

Legolas was startled by the vehemence of the anger and defensiveness reflected in the mortal woman's dark eyes. He quickly removed his hand from her shoulder hoping he had not violated her social customs with his touch. He took a few steps toward the thick stand of trees and gestured for her to follow. The woman's expression of anger melted away but was soon replaced with one of weariness. She looked hesitantly from him to Aduial who was silently standing a few feet away near a break in the trees.

Legolas wanted her to understand that she should follow them to safety and shelter. Given her reaction to merely being touched on the shoulder he doubted that physically guiding her would be an option. Desperate, he decided to try pantomime. He pointed up toward the sun then brought his hands together overhead to form a circle. Sinking in a great arc he hoped his movement looked like the setting sun. He then grabbed his arms and shivered as he had seen many mortals do in the cold. Next he mimed eating and lastly he pointed toward the forest taking a few steps and gestured for her to follow. He looked into the woman's eyes, hoping that she understood what he was trying to communicate.

Had the male immortal been any less beautiful or graceful, Ilorin might have smiled at his dance when she considered the oddness of her situation, stranded in an unfamiliar land with strange immortals who were forced to use dance as the only form of communication. With a small sigh Ilorin decided to go with them. She was well aware of the realities of her situation. She had chosen to step through that passage and right now they were the only beings she had encountered in this unknown land. Despite the weapons they were not overtly threatening, it was probably in her best interest to follow them. She stood, brushed off her pants, picked up her pack and walked toward the immortals.

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A Stanza from "Song of the earth" – an epic poem authored by an unknown human seer.