Lasselanta walked down the corridor with Gimli following, and she entered a small room where bolts of cloth and skeins of yarn were stored on one wall, a deep stone basin with a water spigot on the other side.
"I apologize for the lack of an actual guest room," she temporized. "I'm sure you understand that I never expected to have any 'actual' guests."
"I understand completely, my... Lasselanta," replied Gimli with a grin. "But I am very much used to making due. In fact, anything other than the cold ground I'm used to is practically palatial!"
She smiled and said, "Well, you'll still be sleeping on the cold ground, but at least it'll be level, and you'll have this," and she took a feather tick out of a cupboard with a pillow and some blankets. "Now, I don't know how dwarves like to sleep," she said, turning away to get another pillow, "but..." she trailed off, for Gimli had already situated himself deep in the feather bed with a pillow and one light blanket and was fast asleep. She grinned again, knowing that even the ground was infinitely more comfortable than a wooden chair and the poor dwarf was exhausted. She gently shut the door and returned to the great room to lead Legolas back to his own nest, only to find him in Gimli's chair, asleep as well. Perhaps wooden chairs were more comfortable than she knew! She doubted he knew he was so exhausted that his eyes were closed, but she couldn't very well carry him, so she helplessly covered him with the same blanket that had kept Gimli warmed. Then, suppressing a great yawn herself, she asked Celebrindal to guard her elven guest before retiring to her own bed.
Even though it was still broad daylight, Lasselanta gathered up her mangled bedding and returned it to her cupboard bed. She climbed out of her leggings, kicked off her boots, and pulled off her tunic. Then she wrapped herself in her favorite black silk robe and tucked herself into bed, snuggling deep into the sheets that smelled faintly of wood smoke, soap, and green growing things: a remnant of their last inhabitant, however brief that stay was. With that the last thought on her mind, she drifted gently off to the realm of her dreamlands.
That evening, Legolas awoke with a start. At first, he thought it was from the chilling cold breezing it's way down the stair, but then, he realized that it was the scratching noises from above. Suddenly, a loud whinny pierced the air, and he stood, shedding the blanket, and went for the door; only to find Celebrindal in his way, growling.
"Celebrindal," he spoke low and urgently, "I must go out and see to the horses!" But the wolf was adamant. "Fine," Legolas relented, "Take me to Lasselanta!" Celebrindal understood, but, not wanting to leave his post by leaving the way, took Legolas' hand in his powerful jaws and gently tugged toward the corridor. Legolas smiled despite himself, "You, mellon, are one clever wolf."
Celebrindal led him to a door he vaguely remembered from the wee hours of that morning. It seemed like ages ago, but Legolas opened the door to find himself in Lasselanta's familiar room, the once brilliant light from the sky window now the faded grey of twilight. At first, he was bewildered by the lack of a bed, then remembered the carved cupboard doors. He tapped lightly on one, and whispered, "Lasselanta!" It immediately opened, and a hand snaked out to open the other door. Lasselanta sat up, shrouded by the shadows, then swung her bared legs over the side of the bed.
"Is something wrong?" she asked in the same hushed whisper.
"Someone, or something, is after the horses," Legolas replied urgently.
"Right," she replied, all business. She turned away from him and pulled on that mornings' leggings under the robe, which she then let fall to pull on her tunic. Legolas had an unintended glimpse of her bare, muscled back in the fading light before he hastily averted his gaze. She was pulling on her boots as she turned to him and didn't even notice.
"I hope you are not night sighted," she said as she threw her grey cloak over her shoulders and handed him a lighter one of similar color.
"I am not," Legolas replied, somewhat puzzled.
She smiled and explained, "I would not want to test your fighting skills whilst you were blindfolded."
He frowned at this, and asked, "You still do not trust me?"
Her "light," as he had called it, went dark as she replied; "I trust no one." She grabbed her twin swords on the way out, then quickly led him through the great room, where he paused to grab his bow, and crept up the stone stair after her. The lamps ahead of them, though they had been dark, lit themselves to a very soft glow, nearly invisible to anyone without elven eyesight. However, Legolas had the distinctly disconcerting feeling that they were for his benefit alone, and that Lasselanta could get along quite well without them.
His eyes widened in shock as they entered the outpost at a crouch, but he said nothing and when they crept outside, and saw no one, Lasselanta, whose instincts were quite good, stood upright and said quite distinctly, "Damn! They've taken the horses."
"Oh, I very much doubt that," Legolas laughed softly. She looked at him questioningly and he continued, "That was an Elven horse and a hill pony. If they can't outdistance or outlast whatever was chasing them, they could certainly outwit it."
She smiled slightly at that, then looked anxiously at him. He was puzzled by this, until he figured out that she was trying to discern what he thought of the countryside. He obligingly looked about, and discovered that he could just barely see the remains of last night's camp, marked only by an oddly shaped hillock, far in the misty distance. It was then that he realized that the figure he had seen had been Lasselanta, and the bright glint had probably been her hair. A quick survey of the immediate area revealed a large, flat grey stone, the perfect height for a seat and a good view of the sunset. He quickly strode over to it, then turned and asked, "Is this where you watch the sunset and dry your hair?"
She stifled her surprise and replied saucily, "No, it's where the winds dry my hair and I watch the stars come out!" He gave her a half reproving glare, and she laughed quietly, then worriedly changed, "So you won't tell anyone I'm here?"
Legolas knew that asking after her need for secrecy would only bring up the stone wall, so instead he promised, "I won't tell."
"Good," she said, obviously relieved, then continued, "Now you go back to bed whilst I scout the perimeter."
"Nonsense," he replied calmly. "I'm coming with you." She cocked an eyebrow at that, but assented, leaving Celebrindal to guard the door against any further intrusion.
Lasselanta gathered her cloak tightly about her, to hide her hair and white tunic, then proceeded to scout the perimeter as quietly as any elf, but twice as fast. Even with his healing sleep (his shoulder was now just a sore memory), Legolas found it difficult to keep up. He tried to rationalize her acute knowledge of the terrain against his hurt pride, but it was no use: his bow arm was fast, but her feet were just as quick.
She paused behind a large outcropping of rock, gesturing for him to come closer. "There is a band of twenty orcs on the northern horizon," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath in his ear. Legolas peeked around the lichened edge of the rock and strained his eyes, but he could not see anything more than a dark shadow. Now he was certain that she at least had keener eyes than he, if she wasn't night-sighted.
"I will take your word on it," he returned, softly as she. Suddenly, a loud whinny pierced the air.
"They have your horse," she whispered urgently, then glanced again. Legolas swore eloquently, not bothering to quiet his voice.
"Is he fighting, Laureaquen?" he asked, hushed again.
"Yes," came the immediate reply. "But they are too many."
"We must get closer," he said urgently. Lasselanta merely smiled sideways at him, and lead the way down from the rocky foothills onto the gently rolling plain.
At the base of a hill, she crouched again and whispered, "Are you prepared to run again, Legolas?"
He smiled despite himself, and replied, "No, but I will not let them eat my companion, I will follow where you lead, Lasselanta." She nodded once, sharply, then darted out onto the plain, flowing in and out of the shadows. He followed, trying to do the same.
She ran slightly hunched over, cloak trailing behind her, and surprisingly quick in such an odd position. Legolas' back soon ached with the strain, but they kept it up until they were within a few hundred feet of the orcs. Lasselanta flopped down on her stomach and Legolas did the same, thankful for being able to straighten his back once again.
"Will Laureaquen carry us both?" she breathed in his ear, which twitched because her breath tickled.
"Yes," was his reply.
"And does he understand speech?" she asked, and Legolas could see where this was headed.
"Yes," he answered, "He is an Elven horse, he understands me completely."
"Good," she said. "I am going to crawl to the hillock just opposite of you, then I will attack. As soon as I stand, I want you to start shooting, and as soon as your horse is free enough, call to him, jump on his back, and hope that he isn't too tired to outdistance some orcs."
"What about you?" he was suspicious.
"I'll hold them off until you are out of range, and then run after you," she replied, as if it was that simple. "You may have to circle around to pick me up, but it shouldn't take long."
"You'll never survive!" he hissed in her ear. "There are too many of them!"
"I trust in your abilities, Master Legolas," she replied coldly, reverting to formalities. "I am merely asking you to return the favor."
"All right!" he gave in. "But I will not leave without you!"
"I don't intend to let you!" she retorted, and with that, she drew away into the shadows, creeping around the orcs. Legolas was hard pressed to keep his poor eyes on her, but he did so, and when she had circled half- way round, he crept up the hill and readied his bow.
Lasselanta was nervous. She had never attempted to take on this many orcs before, even with Legolas to help. But she knew she couldn't let Laureaquen, however unfriendly, be killed and eaten by this hideous creatures. So, she slowly and quietly unsheathed her blades, then waited until the orcs were intent on capturing the horse, then she stood, and the first of Legolas' arrows whirred as they flew. She wasted not a moment in attacking, twin blades blurred as she went through the "dance" she had learned from Haldamaite so long ago. She went for vital organs and necks, sometimes lopping off an arm or two that was too good with a blade. All around her, orcs fell to swift arrows and the deadly steel she wielded. Finally, over the shrieks of battle, she heard a loud whinny, and looked up to see Legolas fling himself onto Laureaquen as he ran like the wind.
She lopped off a final head, all the weaponed hands she could find, and took off after them, sheathing her swords as she went. After a few yards, she withdrew her concentration from the orcs and centered it on letting herself fall into the trance that would allow her to run at top speed all night. She had known from the beginning that this would cost her, but she did it anyway and soon, nothing was left but her heartbeat, her breath, and the feel of the ground on her feet.
Legolas was worried. He had not wanted to leave Lasselanta behind to fight by herself, but when Laureaquen took off, he knew he had to catch it, or neither of them would get out alive. Besides, he had only had two arrows left. As he tried to bring Laureaquen back around to pick up Lasselanta, he marveled at the way she fought: coldly and ruthlessly lopping off heads and limbs, not a thrust wasted on anything other than vital organs. The way she fenced was familiar, he himself had learned similar tactics, but her reflexes were honed to razor sharpness and not a single drop of energy was wasted. Also, she was adept with her right hand as her left, and having two expert swords turned against you was far deadlier than one. He was glad she was on his side.
He finally felt Laureaquen turning around, back toward the orcs, and by the time he was facing them again, he saw Lasselanta running in his direction, faster than anyone he had ever seen, Elf, Human, or otherwise. He urged Laureaquen into a gallop and when he finally reached her, wheeled to run beside her.
She did not even look at him. "Lasselanta!" he yelled, leaning down, arm outstretched. A moment longer and her eyes unclouded. When they lit on him, she immediately grabbed his arm and lightly swung herself up, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist before he felt her go unconscious.
Legolas had little time to think about her, as he lead Laureaquen through a complicated series of twists and turns on different terrains to try and elude any trackers. However, he felt it was just an extra precaution. Lasselanta's fighting skills and her appearance out of nowhere (as well as his own) had frightened the orcs; he was sure of it. They would not be attempting any tracking tonight.
Somewhere along the way, they came upon Gimli's pony, sweating with fright, a large but shallow slash on its haunch. When Legolas whistled to it, it followed gladly, happy to be back in safe company.