V

Ill Tidings

Legolas woke at dawn by the sounds of the settlement coming to life. The strokes of an axe against a chopping-block echoed over the settlement; people greeted each other as they got out of their tents, a small child screamed with breathless laughter and there was the sound of thin ice cracking and small feet splashing into water.

Legolas untangled himself from the blankets, pulled a tunic over his under-shirt and crawled out of the tent. Brittle frost glittered in first morning light and made the grass stiff and crunchy. Ninniach knelt by the fire and blew life into the embers.

"Winter's here", she said when Legolas sat down beside her, and gave him a lopsided grin. "Will you help me with this? Try to splint some of that wood, I need some smaller pieces. You can borrow my dagger."

"I have one."

She looked up when he drew it from his belt. "Oh, and a very fine one at that! Are those runes? What do they say?"

"They just say Legolas."

Ninniach smiled with some envy; most wood-elves could not read at all. "Now, careful so you don't cut yourself, okay? Push the dagger from you - and watch your feet!"

The light slowly spread over the clearing while Ninniach fed the embers with bigger and bigger splints. The homely smell of burning wood woke the other Mountain elves. Yawning and stretching they began to tend their horses and help with the breakfast.

"Say, my young friend", Ninniach said, "do you remember any of the tree-hall? Because I'm thinking your brother might want to see it."

"He doesn't", Legolas said. "I wanted to go see it but Beren said we'd only be sad and Tinuhen agreed with him."

"They sure are afraid to get sad, aren't they? I don't think it would hurt for your brother to see what has become of the hall."

"Why not?"

"Because it's no good to sit in your mountain and forget what it really is like out here. I want all the high lords and ladies of Greenwood to know what the Shadow is. To them it's just a word, but out here it's real."

Legolas considered it. "Maybe you could tell Tinuhen it would be a short-cut."

"You know, maybe I will", Ninniach said and strode away towards Tinuhen, who was just coming out of his tent, smoothing down the front of his embroidered travel coat.

The elves of the shadow-wood and the travellers sat down together around the fire and shared a thin porridge flavoured with dried berries. Legolas did not like it, but he didn't want to hurt anyone, so he ate it all. Then they passed around acorn-flour bread and the elves of the shadow-wood looked like it was a real feast. Laeros sat with them. The elves of the shadow-wood did not seem bothered by his silent prescence at all, as if they had seen worse things.

Somehow Ninniach persuaded Tinuhen that they should take the would-be short-cut past the old hall. A pale sun slanted down between the knotty branches when they rode away, waving good-bye to the settlement, but the path they followed to the old hall led them into even darker depths, were the branches covered the sky almost completely. The frost did not melt here, but it did not glitter in the grey shadows that were the only light. The hoof-beats, and the creaking and moaning of the wagons as they bumped over the trees-roots, sounded loud and out of place.

The elves of the settlement moved swiftly and soundlessly, like shadows. Now and then a face, eerily pale, glinted in the torch-light, or the tip of a spear reflected the light. Ninniach had gone quiet and serious again. Many of the riders looked around and mumbled to each other as if the places they passed were familiar. When they came to an old elm that lay just beside the path, hollow and broken and with its roots pulled violently from the ground in some long-ago storm, many elves cried out in horror, and Beren wailed with sorrow. Maidh, whose reputation as the jester would be ruined if he cried, told Legolas that elm-with-many-bird's-nests had been a much loved tree, and many birds had lived in her branches; sparrows and finches and a mighty eagle just below the sky.

Beren dried his tears with his sleeve. "We're getting close."

Ninniach nodded silently at that.

The trees opened to a clearing, and they stopped dead in the forest edge, and silence fell over them.

Before them the ground was black and charred, crossed with blackened tree-trunks, and under the ashes glinted broken lanterns and smashed goblets, a ruined tapestry, a torn silk dress.

The trees edging the clearing were scorched and dead, only a blackened stump remained of some. The elves could see the sky above, but it felt far away, and the sun could not make the place any happier. It was as though the fire had went out only an hour ago, and yet the air said it had been like this forever.

Beren wailed again. Hethulin clung to him, sobbing. Maidh hid his face in his hands.

"Is this the hall?" Legolas asked, and his voice felt too loud and too small all at once in the silence.

"Ai Elbereth", Tinuhen said. "I did not think it would be like this."

Ninniach bowed her head. "They did say something dark and powerful was here that night, something more than orcs."

The horses would go no further than the forest edge, and some elves stayed there as well. Legolas slowly walked over the charred ground. Now and then he felt something other than ashes under his feet; a plate, a book, a toy horse that for all he knew could have been his.

The hall felt small now, even smaller than the Hall of Trees at home, but once, he thought, it had been the whole world. There used to be great green oaks edging the clearing, and their branches used to stretch across the sky like a dark green veil. Legolas could not have told exactly where the tree with his family's talan had been.

At the far end of the clearing was a dais of smooth river stones, covered in slick black moss, and on it stood the thrones still looking out over the ruins of their hall. Legolas sat down on the dais between them. Maybe he had used to sit here once between his parents and watch other elves dance and feast in the hall. He traced the remnants of intricate carvings - leaves and flowers and berries - on the thrones with his fingers. Some paint remained beneath the layer of soot, bright green and yellow.

Beren came to sit beside him.

"This is... this is worse than I could imagine", he said and blinked away tears. "To see it like this. Of course, we all knew what happend but... to see it..."

"I thought we left it in a, you know, a planned sort of way. When it became dangerous."

Beren shook his head. "We fled, that's what we did, like hares from the fox."

Sometimes Legolas dreamt of fire, though he had never known why before. "What happened?"

"Orcs. They came one night, long before the Shadow had reached north of the southern mountains. Like you have been told, we had already moved many times by then as it spread. First from our homes in the southern eaves. Then from Taurtham in the Great Valley. From Galentham, west of the mountains. When we came here, we thought we might stay for ever, because the Shadow was so far away."

"Eden Bar."

Beren smiled faintly. "New Home. That was all we wanted."

"And then the orcs came."

"With fire. And swords. And something more than that - something darker. They spoke of a... a spirit, dark and yielding a great sword. I never saw it. But we were unprepared and they were many. So we ran. We heard the trees screaming behind us, and the elves that fell, but we ran. And we lived."

Legolas wrapped his arms tightly around his knees.

"As you know", Beren said, "we lived north of the Road in many years after that, spread out in little settlements just like the elves out here. We moved often and never let our guard down. And now we have the Mountain."

"Will the Shadow ever come to it?"

"Some day, perhaps, unless we can stop it before that happens."

"And if we can't, what will we do?"

Beren sighed. Then he put his hand on Legolas shoulder.

"We will do whatever the Elven King and Queen tells us to do. If they say we flee, then we flee. It is the only way."

"Ninniach didn't flee."

"And you have seen what has become of her. They're a hunted people, ever on the run. Sooner or later they must come to the Mountain."

When Tinuhen gave the order to set off again, Beren brushed soot from the back of his tunic and took Legolas by the hand. The other elves stood quiet and pale at the edge of the burned hall, and they all seemed to have aged a thousand years since they left the Mountain.

"It is time to leave", Tinuhen said, and for some reason he took Legolas' hand from Beren and squeezed it once, as if there was something he wanted to say, but he did not know how to.

Ninniach and her elves followed them back to the Road, and there they took farewell. Before they split, Ninniach took Legolas a little to the side.

"I will tell you something that you can tell your mother, when you see her again", she said, almost in a whisper. "I would not trust your brother with this."

Legolas looked up at her, wide-eyed.

"Most of us think the Shadow comes from the the old fortress, from Dol Guldur where the Sorcerer lives", Ninniach said. "That it was created by the Sorcerer to corrupt the forest. I do not agree."

"You don't?"

"A Sorcerer", said Ninniach, "would have made the forest fair, don't you think? A fair trap to lure people in, a bait for the unwary, an illusion to cover his evil workings. I think Greenwood created the Shadow. She knew what the Sorcerer would try to do, so she twisted and changed herself, so that she could never be used as a bait. The Shadow fits the Sorcerer, yes; it makes Greenwood dangerous, and keeps the elves away. But would it not have been worse if we had stayed?"

"Then there is no cure for the Shadow", Legolas said. "The only thing to do is to drive out the Sorcerer."

Ninniach nodded.

"Lord Elrond must know that. Maybe he can do it."

"Maybe", Ninniach said, though he could tell she did not believe it.

While the other shadow-wood elves vanished among the trees, Ninniach stood on the road looking after the travellers until the darkness took her. She waved when Legolas looked back, a tiny spot of copper hair and white fur, straight and slender as a young tree. Her words rang in his head over and over again.

Whatever Beren had said, Legolas did not think that Ninniach was the one on the run.

They came to a broad stream and stopped there to, screaming and shivering, wash themselves and their clothes from the first part of their journey. Two elves left to follow a deer track, and came back dragging a large hart. That evening they feasted on roast venison, and Hethulin split the bones in halves and they ate the marrow with their fingers; the fire crackled, the stars shone, and the trees seemed happy to have them there.

"Well, Legolas", Beren said that night, "do you still miss home?"

"I miss the Mountain", Legolas said, "but as long as it's Greenwood it's still home."

Beren smiled and threw another piece of wood on the fire.

"I wonder what mother and father is doing, though", Legolas said. "And Merilin. I hope they are fine."

"Why wouldn't they be?"

"No reason."

"Soon we will meet Radagast", Beren said. "That will give you something new to think of. I'm sure he has a lot of interesting things to tell us."

And on they rode through the almost-shadow-wood; through a forest of pines, and a forest of oaks, and a forest of elms; down long narrow valleys littered with mossy boulders, and over steep ridges with knife-sharp edges that leaned over dark lakes. Sometimes the wagons bumped over cobbles, sometimes they squeaked over roots, and sometimes they rolled smoothly over leaves and soft pine needles.

When it darkened one night - Legolas had lost count, but he thought it was the tenth night since they left the Mountain - they saw lights ahead of them near the Road, and voices that weren't elvish. The travellers stopped hidden among the trees and debated in hushed voices whether they should go on or not. They would have been wary even with merchants, but it was not trading season and the strangers were more likely to be outlaws than merchants.

Tinuhen sent Hethulin and another elf to investigate, and on Hethulin's suggestion Legolas was allowed to go with them to see and learn. They stole through the trees like shadows, keeping away from the moonbeams that lit up the forest floor. When they neared, they sank down ever so quietly in the branches and looked down. A dozen Men slept around the fire, curled up under thick blankets and furs. There was also a tent, a large red one, but there was no light in it. Used bowls and tankards had been casually beside an empty cauldron, and their horses were tethered nearby.

Legolas crept out on a long branch until he was right above the sleepers at the edges of the camp. He watched their strange, hairy faces and the plump shapes of their bodies beneath the blankets. One was awake across the fire. He seemed lost in though. Legolas gazed at him and wondered what a Man might be thinking about in the middle of the night.

The man looked up.

Legolas ducked and hid his face against the branch.

There was a long silence.

"I-I'm not afraid of you, elf", the man said finally. When Legolas glanced up, he saw the man looking around as if he was not sure if what he had seen was real or not. "I - we - we're only passing through, we want no ill."

Above him, Hethulin gave a clear laugh that made the man jump. She had not needed to reveal herself and Legolas wondered shamefully if she did it to draw attention from him, so that he would not be in danger if the Men proved hostile.

The lone man crept together like a frightened hare, then shoved the man beside him hard on the shoulder.

"Wake up - wake up!"

The other man rubbed his eyes and sat up, taking a sword from under the bundle of clothes that served as his pillow. Legolas wanted to crawl back before the whole camp woke, but he dared not move just then. But this man - he was older, and eyed the trees with more experience than fear - did not wake anyone else up. Instead he said, very quietly, without looking anywhere special: "We're mercenaries searching for a place to stay over winter, only travelling through and come in peace. We want you no ill. I'm sure you already know, but there's something foul afoot further north. The elves along the Road has told us things have been moving. Orcs. Wargs, maybe. They didn't want to specify, but told us to be careful."

Hethulin was quiet for such a long time the younger man seemed to think the elves had gone, but the older one only waited.

Finally Hethulin said: "Which way are you heading?"

"East. Not to the palace, mind, just through the forest."

"Worry not. You will be safe", said Hethulin. Then she began to move back, but she let the men hear her, and while they watched her Legolas could sneak back into safety.

"You were seen", Hethulin said on the way back. It wasn't a question, and not an accusation either; it was just a statement.

"He was scared of me."

"He was."

"Why?"

"Men are scared of what they don't know", Hethulin said. "And they are weak. To them we are very dangerous when we want to."

Hethulin didn't tell Tinuhen that Legolas had been seen, and a little later, Tinuhen decided the men proved no threat and decided they should simply pass them by. So that they did, a silent line of quiet shapes saying not a word, only letting their laughter be heard when the men gasped and gawked at their shadows.

Hethulin told Tinuhen and Beren what the old man had said about things moving up north.

"Strange", Beren said. "We've heard nothing of the sort. Maybe they wanted to scare us?"

"Greenwood is vast. 'North of here' can mean anything. We wouldn't know if it was far away."

"You are right", Beren said. "Still, it worries me that orcs or wargs would have dared to venture into Greenwood north of the Shadow. I hope it means nothing, but I'm afraid that it might."

That night, Legolas woke up because it suddenly became quiet.

Not completely quiet - there was still the sound of a light night's rain, and Tinuhen's even breaths - but the tree-voices were gone. Legolas pressed his palms against the fur beneath him. He could not feel the earth humming, nor the warmth of life that was there even when it was frozen.

When the branch-crossed sky of his dream faded, it became pitch-black. He could not see the roof of the tent; when he held a hand to his face he could not see it either. For a moment Legolas panicked, thinking he had gone blind; then he told himself it could not be so. He sat up, fumbled his way to the opening, and crawled clumsily outside.

The fire burned, a tiny dot of red in the dark, and shimmered faintly in the frost on the ground. Legolas let his breath out.

But it was still quiet. The guards were alert, staring into the dark.

"What's happening?" Legolas whispered.

Maidh looked unusually serious. "We don't know."

The darkness was so thick it was almost tangible. The fire was the only light; the sky was hidden behind crossed branches, where in the evening stars had been visible between them. The air had a cold, metallic taste to it, and it was hard to breath. And in the dark, branches creaked and moaned even though there was no wind, and they had a mournful and eerie sound. The rain clattered on brittle leaves like claws clicking against bark.

Legolas moved closer to the fire.

Other elves were waking too. The sudden abscence of tree-voices, and the stillness of the earth, woke them just like it had woken Legolas. They came out of their tents and stared at the creaking trees, and for a while no one uttered a word.

When someone actually spoke, they were all startled; Laeros had not said a word during the entire journey until then. His voice was hoarse and broken, and he swayed a little where he stood by the fire, arms wrapped tight around his skinny frame, as if the darkness was so heavy on him he almost bent under it.

"What did you say?" Tinuhen asked.

Laeros took his gaze from the forest and fixed it on Tinuhen.

"It is here", he repeated. "It has crossed the border."

"What has?"

"The Shadow", Laeros said.

The other elves stared at him, and winter seemed to grasp their hearts. The trees moaned as if to say that it was true. The fire flickered, fighting the darkness.

"What does that mean?" Maidh asked, but Laeros did not anwer.

"The Elvenking holds the border", one of the healers said. "If the border fails that must mean... there must be a reason the border fails, mustn't it?"

It was not very cold, but Legolas began to shiver. He wrapped his arms about him much like Laeros did, as if that was the only way to keep his own warmth from seepping out.

"It is no good to speculate", Beren said. "Tomorrow we'll meet Radagast. Maybe he knows more."

"It's probably nothing, right?" said Hethulin. "Nothing we can't handle anyway."

Beren looked doubtful, but the other warriors nodded. Legolas thought that if they believed they could handle it, it was probably true. They were warriors after all.

They did not sleep much more that night. Instead, they sat around the fire with their backs to the shadows and tried to talk about happier things. They told stupid jokes and played pointless games, and the warriors kept their weapons close even though there was nothing there they could fight.

On the morrow they broke camp early. They took down the tents before there was even a hint of light between the branches over their heads, then ate a swift breakfast and set off. It was cold and air was very still. Slowly the forest turned grey, a dark hazy kind of grey that seemed to be the closest to daylight the shadow-wood had.

They rode in silence now. Tinuhen sent scouts to survey the road ahead, and the warriors kept their weapons ready and their eyes wide open. Greenwood felt like a different world; different and eerie. Branches creaked and moved seemingly without reason. Their roots wriggled pale and worm-like over the road, and sometimes they trapped the horses' hooves and caused them to nervously dance away. The travellers were all so tense they jumped at every movement and every sound.

But when Legolas glanced over his shoulder he saw Laeros sit up and look out of the wagon over the driver's shoulder. There was something different about him; not like he was better, but like something had snapped back in place - the instinct to survive maybe.

The warriors had closed tight ranks around Legolas, and he could not see very much, but he did not want to either. The day went by in tense silence. At last they stopped at the eastern side of a broad stream, over which an old stone bridge span.

"Here is where we'll meet Radagast", Tinuhen said. "I suggest we just sit down and wait until he - "

"No need", came a familiar voice, and out of shadows of the opposite bank stepped a lean figure in a long robe. All at once the travellers straightened their backs and even the horses relaxed a little. Radagast had that effect on beasts and wood-elves alike.

Now he walked over the stone bridge, tall as a young tree and with bear moss growing in his beard. He had so many patches sewn to his robe it was hard to tell which hue and texture it had had in the beginning. But under his mossy hat and green-tinted eyebrows, Radagast's eyes were bright and clear as the sky. He was leading a sturdy grey horse loaded with gear.

"It is bad", he said, and when he came closer they could all see how worried he looked. "It is very bad, my friends."

"The Shadow, you mean?" Tinuhen asked. He had never liked Radagast much, maybe beause he lived in a ramshackle tower and had a bird's nest under his hat.

"Not in itself", Radagast said. "No, not the Shadow in itself."

Tinuhen sighed.

Sometimes Radagast reminded Legolas very much of the trees - especially the great oaks, and old willow-by-the-water. Even when he had something important to say, and even though he used very few words when he could, it often took him a long time to say things. It was as though he was so old he was never out of time. Or maybe he was like the trees and did not count time at all; merely watched the seasons pass without ever wondering when spring would come or how many days till Midsummer.

But Legolas had never seen the wizard quite this grave.

"It is the Elvenking", Radagast said. "I heard it from a sparrow, I did. The sparrow heard it from - nevermind - it is the Elvenking. Your father, my prince. I do not know the details, but - "

"By Elbereth, wizard, what happened to father?" Tinuhen burst out, and his voice rose in fear. "Is he ill?"

"Injured." Radagast leaned on his knotty staff. "The Elvenking is injured. As far as I know, he was out riding, a few miles from the Mountain. There he was attacked by orcs. There was a battle, and the Elvenking took a sword-cut to the side, but that is not all. The wound made him ill. I do not know if it was poison, or something else."

Legolas dug his fingers into Amlûgs mane and shut his eyes tight. When he looked again, it would not be real. When he looked again, it would only be a nightmare.

"What do you mean something else?" It was Beren who asked, for Tinuhen had gone very quiet.

"No orcs could come so close to the Mountain unseen", Radagast replied. "Not without help. There is something more at work here than a mere skirmish. But I do not want to speculate too much yet."

Tinuhen found his voice again. "What - what will you do?"

"I will ride to the Mountain and give whatever aid I can. I can ride swiftly on my own, and hopefully catch up with you on the road. If I don't..."

"But we'll go home, right?" Legolas said. "We'll go back to the Mountain! If father is wounded..."

"My child", Radagast said and turned to him for the first time. "Listen..."

Legolas stared at him wide-eyed. "We can't go on. You can't mean that. I am going back!" He looked at Tinuhen. "Won't we go back?"

Tinuhen glanced at Beren uncertainly, and Beren shook his head.

"Legolas", Tinuhen said, then licked his lips and didn't seem to know what to say. "You see... we have to go on. As far as we know father doesn't have to be badly wounded. Maybe he just has a fever, and it will be over soon. Our mission, it's much more important."

"More important than father?"

"We've been on the road for eleven days. By the time we get back to the Mountain father will be well again and we'll have turned for no reason."

"You don't know that", Legolas said. "Not if it was something else than poison."

Tinuhen's eyes flickered towards Beren again.

"Listen, Legolas... uh..." He hesitated, then lowered his voice so that the only one who could possibly hear was Radagast. "Mother told you about - about the meeting, did she not? The meeting that I will attend at Midwinter's Eve. We are already late, we have very little margins if anything happens that delays us. There is no time for us to turn back to the Mountain and then turn again for Rivendell. And that meeting may just be the only hope that Greenwood has right now. Now you have seen the Shadow, what it does, how easily it spreads. Our border was very strong, but the Shadow breached it."

"But if we don't arrive in time, won't lord Elrond wait for us?"

Tinuhen bit his lip and leaned closer. "That is the problem, Legolas. You see - you must not tell anyone this. Everything about these meetings is very, very secret. Until this summer, mother and father did not know about them either, but Mith - Gandalf told them, because Gandalf thought they ought to be there." Tinuhen looked over his shoulder. "Gandalf did not tell anyone but Radagast about it, because then maybe they would stop us from joining. Lord Elrond will not be expecting us. Our hope is to turn up unexpectedly, so that they have no choice but to let me join. No one will be expecting us but Gandalf and Radagast, and Radagast will be here, and I dare not hope that Gandalf can persuade the others to wait."

"Who are the others?"

"That does not matter. Do you understand why we have to go on? Father would want us to. That was the last thing he told me, Legolas. Whatever happens, Tinuhen, you must reach Rivendell in time, he said. And I will."

Legolas bit his lip. "Then you can go on, and I can go back."

"I cannot spare enough warriors to give you a safe journey home."

"I'll go with Radagast!"

Tinuhen shook his head. "Radagast will ride much swifter if he hasn't got anyone else to mind. Legolas, listen to me, we have no choice but go on. You promised to help, did you not?"

Legolas looked from Tinuhen to Radagast and then up at Beren, but no one yielded. His eyes began to burn. He blinked hard and swallowed. "I did."

"I must go at once", Radagast said. "I will send you a message as soon as I know more."

"I wish you a safe journey", Tinuhen said.

"Wish me rather a swift one. Good luck, my prince."

A quaver rose from Legolas belly, up through his fluttering heart and into his throat, choking him. He shuddered. He was not going to cry.

Tinuhen reached out a hand for him. Then he hesitated and let it fall. Hethulin steered her horse past his and wrapped Legolas in her arms.

"It'll be alright, little leaf", she said and stroke his hair. "It'll all be fine."

The trees sighed mournfully, the stream whispered, and outside the shadow-wood a light snow began to fall; inside it, one by one, the snow-flakes found their way to the ground below the twisted branches.

As always, huge thanks to everyone who has commented, and to tumblr user queen-aragorn for proof-reading. Please leave a review, it means so much to me!