The Passing
A walk in the light
My tidings for you: the stag bells,
Winter snows, summer is gone.
Wind high and cold, low the sun,
Short his course, sea running high.
Deep-red the bracken, its shape soon gone,
The wild goose has raised its wonted cry.
Cold has caught the wings of birds,
Season of ice—these are my tidings.
Tain Bo Cuailgne (12th C Irish monk)
His elven glaze studied her face from his perch. She shivered from the chill carried by the passing wind.
The girl was writing in her book. What could such a vile creature be writing?
Was it a book of spells? What evil lay within?
When Kohana had looked into his eyes as she dismounted her horse, Legolas had known this girl was the queerest creature he had ever come in contact with.
Her obvious defiance for his authority would be a problem. She didn't look threatening, but he had been warned of her spell to capture the heart.
He would give her no pity.
He did not see much beauty in her features. Legolas didn't think she was ugly. Actually, he found her attractive for a human; for he had heard they were harsh and worn from toil and labor. The Prince had actually never seen a woman before, but this girl could not come close to the beauty of the elven maidens he was used to. While Elven maidens had grace and had a slender fragility to them, the she-witch had a foreign shape of curves and muscle. Kohana had discarded her cloak and her arms and calves showed the benefits of Glorfindel's training. Her sun bleached hair hung around her shoulders while she scribbled in her journal.
Legolas would never admit it to anyone, primly himself, but this witch-girl intrigued him.
And he hated her for it.
Dear Journal,
I am writing you from under a willow tree. The chill of these elves is already pissing me off. I am already getting tired of their crap. The wind grows colder, and we have moved farther from my refuge. I miss Glorfindel so much already.
The curtains of these giant trees are the only privacy I have. Beyond them I see the shadows of elves going about there business.
How bored could I possibly get?
Namarie,
Ana
Kohana lay under the solitude of her tree as the last light of the sun graced the sky. Her hands grasped the cloak around her and her breathing became soft and rhythmic.
Meanwhile Legolas sat near his brother in the darkness. Their elven sight needed no aid from a campfire.
"She is asleep." Amroth whispered, "Her breathing has slowed."
Legolas nodded and relaxed a little. He had been afraid that the she-witch would have tried an escape of some sort. Her demeanor seemed calm but the gleam of defiance he had seen earlier has boiled his blood.
Legolas was proud of his heritage. Elves represented everything good in Middle Earth, and his title as prince had always demanded respect. For the first time in his millennia of years, a being had challenged it, and it was a girl.
A GIRL!
He did not like this mission at all. His mind went back to his beloved Mirkwood.
It had been a cloudy and dismal day that Legolas had been summoned by the royal council. He had been practicing his archery in the forest of black and gloom. It was a funny thing that Legolas loved the gloom of his home. The Prince was not morbid or depressed, but rather grateful that the forests crawling of evil things taught him to be scared of nothing. The wilderness of Mirkwood was the best training ground for a warrior, and Legolas was thankful for the opportunity to sharpen his skills.
His form had snaked its way around a tree as his eyes found the target. The giant spider crawled through the underbrush as Legolas raised his bow. Just as his arm was about to let his arrow fly a noise behind him made his reflexes spring into action. He released his arm and grabbed his dagger all in one fluid motion and in less than a second it was at Amorth's throat.
"Dartho!" Legolas's younger brother yelped. Legolas sighed and released his dagger that lay against Amroth's throat.
Legolas relaxed as he grinned at his sibling. "Amroth! You try and you try, but you will never sneak up on me!"
"I wasn't trying to sneak up on you!" Amroth was obviously disheveled at Legolas's remark, "I was trying to fetch you, for Father has summoned you to the council this eve."
Legolas's face drew up a look of curiosity. His father had let the him sit in on council meetings in the past, but had never requested that he be in attendance. Amroth's dark features drew an annoyed expression as his older brother gathered his thoughts. Amroth wished that he, too, had been asked to attend the council meeting.
Legolas looked to his brother after much thought and realized he was stalling. He quickly placed his dagger back in its holder and slung his bow about his back.
"U-chenion." Legolas added as the two elves made their way through the forest.
"Nae, neither do I . . ." Amroth stated ask he jumped rock to rock with like cat like grace. "All I know is Gandalf the Grey arrived his morn."
Their steps made no footprints as they reached the clearing in which the mighty and vast stone palace emerged from the cavernous beds of stone and lit the gloom of the wilderness. The palace of Mirkwood was dug into the granite and thick stone that rose along the mountainsides of the terrain that evolved from the forest beneath it. The engineering of the Mirkwood elves resembled the Native Indians that built their dwellings on the cliffs of red rock valleys and cave dwellings. From a distance the skylights of the chambers, corridors, and carved gardens of the palace grounds could be seen by the light they gave off to the night sky. The palace was surrounded by a large wall of stone with out looking posts that oversaw the protection of the rolling valleys that lay before it filled with villages of farmers and ranchers. During the daylight hours Mirkwood nobility would leave their stone dwellings within the palace to stroll about the valleys, shop in the marketplaces, and rest near the land protected by the watch towers.
Legolas and Amroth had arrived at the time in which the nobility were retiring to the palace for the eve.
The princes followed the noble lords and ladies through the gates that lead to the fortress within.
The stone that had engulfed the outside was inlayed with gold and marble in the interiors of the palace. Greenery and fauna surrounded every space inside the high skylights of the chambers and walkways cultivated by irrigation and plenty of sunlight during the day.
The brothers reached the palace beneath the canyon just as the sun had set in the west. Neither noticed as they continued to stride through cut stone paths and tunnels through the palace that all elves they passed bowed in respect. Legolas and Amroth had never known different. The two crossed the enormous grand hall, climbed the narrow staircases that lead to various chambers that scaled the mountainside and made their way to the North wing.
The elven maidens giggled and warriors bowed as the two made their way to the council room. Legolas arrived at the double doors lit by torches and looked to Amroth.
"I will see you at dinner, harthon cened le ennas."
Amroth grinned. "I hate being in public. I never get one moments peace. I can't help it if the elven maidens trample me . . ."
"Ahhh, my little brother- the heartbreaker."
The brothers griped each other's forearms in farewell, and Amroth parted down the hall to his quarters.
Legolas sighed, put on his 'authoritative' stance, and opened the doors to the meeting within.
The faces staring back at him had been grave.
The council had been of the gravest importance in general. He was told of a threat, one that may even exceed Gollum, and he was instructed that he must tame this beast.
"My son, you must not fail me." His Ada had said.
"She is of great evil." It was hushed.
Gandalf himself had looked into his eyes with severity.
This was very serious.
The prince did not attend dinner, but instead spend the eve boring over maps in the royal library and talking strategies with Amroth in his chamber until the wee hours.
A moth later the Prince found himself sitting among willow trees guarding a she-witch that could potentially harm all kind in Middle Earth.
The chill of the wind moved the braids that crowned Legolas's face.
His hands cradled his dagger as the rustle of leaves was heard nearby.
Notes:
U-chenion- I don't understand
Harthanon cened le ennas- I hope to see you there
Nae- alas