VIII

The Misty Mountains

Merilin paced the corridor outside her father's room until it felt so small she could not breath in it. Taith walked with her, an ubreakable ash in the storm.

"Where is Nelladell?"

"Training the younglings, now that Faerdis is injured."

Merilin sighed. "I do not see why we should prepare for war. All we will do is to flee again, itsn't it?"

"I believe so", said Taith, "but we should not be unprepared either. Has your mother talked about fleeing?"

"She does not want to leave the Mountain. It is a stronghold, after all. But if the Shadow comes, we cannot stay here anyway, can we?"

"The Shadow is not here yet", Taith said.

They came to the end of the tunnel, turned, and went back. Now and then the sun found a gap in the clouds and shone through the narrow windows. It had melted some of the snow away, but the night frost kept the ground cool enough for most of it to remain. It was not enough for building forts on the courtyard yet. Merilin wondered if anyone would build snow forts this winter.

The door on top of the stair opened. "My lady? You can come inside."

On mother's orders, father had been moved from the healing ward to the comfort of his own room. That meant mother now slept in a chair beside him, or on the couch in the parlour. When she slept. Merilin did not think she did that very much at all.

Now she sat in the chair to father's right, and Radagast sat beside her with his staff leaning to the mantlepiece. Even in the hall of the wood-elves he looked too much like the forest - as if he had spent a hundred years under a turf of grass, then stood up and walked away without bothering to brush himself off. Merilin had all the correct pleasantries on her tongue - how nice to see you, how are you, did you have a good journey - but Radagast had never been one for pleasantries.

"Merilin", he said. "These are grave times. Thranduil is strong, but I cannot wake him, and I don't know if he can wake on his own."

Merilin nodded, forcing herself to stay calm. She looked over to father, still pale and unmoving under his blankets. He pulled back his cracked lips to bare his gritted teeth. His hands, clenched on top of his chest, had left damp stains of sweat on the blankets.

"What is wrong with him?"

"Hard to tell. I believe his fëa, his spirit, is trapped, and I cannot free him. His own mind keeps him hostage, but his mind is infected by whatever power that sword had. Maybe it will go away with time, and maybe someone must free him, yet I do not have the power. I know only one who has."

"Then shall we send him in a wagon after Laeros?" Merilin asked bitterly. "Or what are we to do? How much time... I mean..."

"He will hold out", mother said. "He will, until we have thought of something."

Merilin picked a small birch leaf from the cover that must have fallen from Radagast's robe. It lay in her palm, yellow and dry with spindly veins.

She crushed it to dust between her fingers. "What will you do, Radagast? You cannot be late for the Council."

"I can ride very swiftly on my own, and take short-cuts wherever it is possible. I shall stay with you for some days more."

"Good", mother said. "We will have a meeting soon, and..."

Merilin turned to her father. Though she knew she would be on that meeting too, it did not seem very important, because she would never be able to provide anything anyway. She knew nothing of wars, or fighting, or orcs, or anything whatsoever that would be useful to them. They would not want her opinion.

If only I was like lady Arwen, she thought. She is brave and beautiful and wise and everything.

But Arwen had lost her mother. No, Merilin did not want to be like her at all.

The road became a path that became a narrow track, only partly visible beneath pine needles and drifts of snow. It led them up the steep northern side of a valley, away from the quiet, wind-blown trees and in between bare cliffs so high they blocked out the sun.

"Are there orcs in the mountains?" Legolas asked. Pines no larger than shrubbery clung to narrow ledges and cracks in the stone. Rocks were littered all over the ground.

"And goblins", said Beren. "No one can tell for sure how many, for they hide deep in the mountains and can stay there for years if it is unsafe outside. But the rangers and lord Elrond have kept them from the roads for the past years. If there are goblins, they will be higher up."

Legolas looked up and around. Something lay half hidden hidden behind a rock; a cauldron, old and rusted to pieces. He wondered who might have left it there - and why.

"But it's winter now", he said thoughtfully, "and maybe the goblins are out of supplies, because they haven't been able to gather so much during the year, with lord Elrond and the rangers around. What if they are desperate and attack us for our supplies - you know, like wolves may attack an elk when they arestarving?"

Beren lifted an eyebrow. "That's good thinking, and you are quite right. We must be alert. But it is early in the winter and goblins are not known for their foresight. Like wolves don't go for elks until it is a matter of life and death, goblins won't risk an attack on such a large company as ours until it is their only option."

"Are we such a large company to the goblins?"

"We are, because we are well equipped and they are most likely not."

"So if we return late in winter or early in spring, then we must be even more careful? Because that's when they will be starving, and they'll know we've just set out from Rivendell and that our supplies are still full - and maybe we'll be slower, too, with the wagons so heavy..."

Beren smiled. "Right again. You learn quickly."

"I do? Tinuhen says..."

"Tinuhen", Beren said and glanced towards the crown prince, who had ridden ahead of the others along with an elf who knew the mountains. "Tinuhen says an awful lot of things, but, though I don't want to speak ill of him, not all of them are true. Your brother doesn't think you fit to be a commander - he doesn't think you are clever enough, or that you have the authority needed - but I think you are. You have an understanding of how things and people work that Tinuhen doesn't have, Legolas. You see much and you remember it. Authority will come with time. I think you will make a fine commander, one day."

"Really?" Legolas said and felt like he had just been crowned king over all of Middle Earth.

"Really", Beren said almost gravely. "We don't have many scouts in Greenwood these days, expect for our hunters - but if we ever have need for them again I could see you as one, leading archers and skirmishers through trees and shadows, spying on the enemy. That is something Tinuhen could never do."

"I am good at archery!"

"I know, and you can become even better with some practice." Beren beamed at him. "It takes hard training, of course, to be a scout, and even more to be a commander. Tinuhen thinks you aren't determinded enough to remain dedicated when things go against you. You could show him though, couldn't you?"

"I could show him that books aren't everything", Legolas said. "Some things you can only learn from hard work, and some things only the trees can tell you, and only if you listen closely. And I could show him I'll be the best scout Greenwood ever had!"

"I'm sure you will", Beren said. Then Tinuhen returned, and they spoke no more of it.

The road took them high above the valley, and the cliffs surrounding it gave way. To the right the ground sloped steeply down to the foothills, and to the left jarred ridges and broken peaks rose towards the clouds; they could not see where the mountains ended. As they rode on, the sun came out to shine on them. Soon they had to take off their cloaks.

"I think the Misty Mountains are smiling at us", Tinuhen said.

"Let us hope it is not with scorn", said Beren. He had become very quiet.

"Hey!" Naru called suddenly. "Look back!"

The elves turned to look the way they had come, and drew their breaths in unison. The view was clear enough behind them that they could see not only the narrow valley and the clinging forest, not only the foothills and the fields and the river, but Greenwood - naught more than a dark blue line by the horizon. Homesickness caught them. The journey through the forest had taken so long, and now it vanished as swiftly as a leaf down a waterfall.

Legolas steered Amlûg close to the edge and leaned forward, straining to see as far as possible. Beren grabbed the back of his tunic.

"If you fall down there", he said, pointing over the edge and down the deadly fall to the foothills, "we won't find you in one piece. Look ahead."

Afternoon turned to dusk. The last of the way they had to light torches and move slowly along the treacherous path, but eventually the cliffs rose to their right, the ground leveled and they came to a narrow plateau sheltered from the northern wind. But when Beren was about to give the order to set up camp, his voice faltered.

They weren't alone.

A small fire glowed in the dark across the plateau, and shadowy people could be seen sitting around it, or walking between the dark shapes of a number of tents. The fire was flickering and wavering violently. Whoever had lit it had neglected the shelter of the mountainside and set up camp at the far end of the plateau where the cliffs surrounding it were too low to be any protection from the northern wind.

"Maybe they're trolls", Legolas suggested. "They're not so smart, are they?"

"Hardly believable. They are pragmatical", Tinuhen said, as if that settled the matter.

"What's that?"

"They may not be great at chess", Beren explained, "but they know and feel the difference between shelter and no shelter. They are, of course, very hardy. Perhaps they thought that place gave enough shelter."

"They're too small to be trolls", Hethulin said. "And I'd say they move more like elves than orcs. Maybe they're from Rivendell."

"What would they be doing out here, though?" Maidh asked. "The noldor never leave their valley."

"Maybe they're lost", Hethulin said. Tinuhen sent both her and Maidh a withering glance, but they were used to it by now and did not even flinch. Then he told them to go and investigate, and, scowling, they obeyed.

They left with stern faces and their weapons ready in their hands, and there was a long tense wait after the darkness took them and until they appeared again in the torch-light. But when they returned, they looked relaxed.

"Rangers", they said. "We could smell it on the wind halfway there."

The wood-elves weren't afraid of rangers, but not exactly friends with them either. They set up camp on the center of the narrow plateau where they were most sheltered, laughing at the silly Men who for all their knowledge had not got the same idea.

When he had finished his dinner, Legolas filled his bowl with snow, because they had no running water, and set it aside to be washed. Then he stood up, jumped up and down to get some warmth to his toes and said: "I want to talk to the Rangers."

Tinuhen frowned. "You want what?"

"Talk to the Rangers. I've never seen rangers up close. Can I?"

"It is dark", Tinuhen said.

Legolas rolled his eyes. "I can see their fire from here. It's not like I'm going to get lost. And I'm here to learn, am I not? How am I to learn anything about the rangers if I don't..."

"Fine", Tinuhen muttered. "Go straight to them and ask - politely, mind - if you can come close, and then you will go straigth back to us, and if you do not - "

"You kill me, yeah, I get that..."

"One thing more", Tinuhen said, sharply enough that Legolas paused to listen. "The dunedain have always had strong ties to Rivendell. If they ask, Beren is the leader of our company, there is no prince among us, you are Beren's son and your name is not Legolas. Do not follow them anywhere, and not into their tents. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Then go."

There was a layer of thin ice on top of the snow, after the sun melted the topmost cover, and the evening-chill made it freeze over again. When Legolas rounded the cliff the wind caught his wide cloak and made him stumble backwards. He bowed his head against it and almost bumped into a sentinel at the edge of the ranger camp.

"Oh! Hello", he said, and the sentinel flinched and raised it's spear.

"Hey! I'm not an enemy!"

"Who are you?"

"No one you need to poke with that, anyway!"

"I can see that, now." The sentinel lowered the spear and eyed him suspiciously. "You're one of the elves. Come closer, let me look at you."

"I though you saw me", Legolas said and kept an eye on the spear. Even without this traitor in Rivendell, no one in Greenwood trusted the dunedain wholly, and he supposed there was a reason for that.

On closer look the ranger was a young man, at least as far as Legolas could tell - gangling and slender, with dark, shaggy hair that hung in thick tangles around a face that looked like it had been carelessly chiselled out of stone. He did not look very dangerous. When Legolas stood his ground, the man came closer, and as he did so his eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline.

"Why, you're just a kid! I did think you looked small for an elf. Aren't you a bit young to be travelling across the mountains, and at this time of the year?"

"I bet I'm older than you", Legolas said. He had no idea if that would be true, but the man laughed as if he hit right on spot.

"Where are you heading?"

"To Rivendell. We're from Greenwood."

"Then you've come a long way", said the man. "We are on our way to Imladris too. My name is Findel."

"Mine's Legolas", Legolas said, than hastily bit his tongue. That was just the thing he was not supposed to say! Tinuhen was going to be furious.

But Findel only smiled and said: "Ah, you must be named after the young prince, then? His name is Legolas, correct?"

"Um... well yes, it is."

"Are you as old as him?"

"Yes. Almost."

He wondered if it was because of the dark that Findel could not see the embroideries on his tunic or the fine wool of his cloak, or indeed the silver clasp that kept it together. They were plain clothes, of course, the ones Galion had picked out to make Legolas look as normal as possible, but he wouldn't have thought them plain enough to not give him away after he had stated his name. Of course, some princes would have stated their title along with their name from the beginning.

"So", Findel said, "Legolas of Greenwood, why are you gracing our humble camp with your not-princely presence?"

"What?"

"I meant", Findel said, smiling, "what are you doing here? Did you want anything in particular? The scouts your leader sent out earlier weren't very companionable, and we hardly expected to hear anything else from you for the rest of the night. Yet here you stand, companionable indeed."

"Oh. Well, mostly I just wanted to talk. I haven't met rangers before. I mean, face to face."

Findel's eyes narrowed. "Not face to face? You don't happen to be one of those elves hiding in the Greenwood trees, do you? When I was there this summer, we heard them laughing and mocking us all the way from Three Oaks to the Mountain."

"They meant no ill, I promise!"

"What a wood-elf means and what a wood-elf does are often not one and the same thing", Findel said, but then he smiled it away and added: "Come, let's not stand here so far from the fire. I think it's safe for me to leave my post a while. We mostly wanted to make sure you elves weren't planning to steal our provisions or something."

He led Legolas into the camp, where the rangers had now gathered around the fire that burnt between their four weather-worn hide tents. They were singing a song, but it was none that Legolas had ever heard and in their deep, dark voices it sounded very different from elven song. The rangers were stern and strong-looking, with their faces shadowed by deep hoods or hidden behind bushy beards, and they had rough hands and ragged clothes that smelled of sweat and horses and months on the road. But they weren't as unfriendly as they looked. They had Legolas sit down with them and laughed at how he had scared Findel when he first met him.

"I wondered why you were shouting, Findel", one of them said. "I thought you'd run into a bear or something."

"Well, I thought so too for a moment, but - "

The rangers roared with laughter.

"Sorry, kid, we're not laughing at you", they said to Legolas, "but it takes Findel's nerves to mistake an elfling for a bear."

A broad-shouldered man who was almost as tall as Legolas' father poured a small cup of mead and handed it to Legolas. It had a bitter taste, not at all like the one he was used to, but Legolas drank politely in small sips. He tried not to look at the broad-shouldered man's hands. He had only six fingers left on both of them together: two on his right hand, and four on this left.

The man noticed him struggling not to stare, but he wasn't angry. "One to a snow storm. Three to a bear."

"What?"

"That's how I lost my fingers."

"To a bear?" Legolas had never heard of anyone who was attacked by a bear and survived.

"The name's Hawn", said the man with a wry smile, "and I bit the bear back."

"And got a good story to tell the rest of us", one of the other rangers said. "We were just about to tell stories, actually, before you came by. I don't know about you elves, but when we are out travelling we like to share stories in the evenings. Maybe you'd like to hear one?"

"I would love to!"

"Hawn is an excellent story-teller", Findel said. "And the story of how he bit the bear is worth hearing. He..."

"Wait!" said one of the watches at the edge of camp. "Arahad's back."

Three new rangers strode into camp. They were wrapped in so many cloaks and furs they looked like real bears walking on two legs. The foremost had thick bushy eyebrows and a crooked nose, as if it had been broken more than once, and he looked very grim.

"That is our captain", said Hawn. "Chieftain, actually, of all the dunedain. Arahad, son of Araglas."

Arahad didn't look like a chieftain of anything at all, but when Legolas looked closer at him, there was just something about him - he could not put his finger to it, but he had a feeling that the man was somehow important.

Arahad looked straight back at him, with bright grey eyes, and for a moment Legolas thought he knew him.

"Is that an elf I see there?"

The moment passed. Legolas had never seen the man before.

"This is our new friend", Findel answered. "He's come to listen to some stories of ours. Hawn was just about to tell - "

"That must wait", said Arahad. His eyebrows drew together, as if he didn't like Legolas being there. "Are you elves still camped down there at the plateau?"

"Yes."

"Wood-elves, are you?"

Legolas lifted his chin a little. "We are."

"I thought so", said Arahad. "That is not a good place to camp, and had you been more used to mountains you would have known it. The snow up on that slope is unstable. An avalanche will sweep right over your camp. You should move to someplace safer."

Legolas frowned. "My brother said the weather isn't right for snowslides. The slope is on the leeside or something."

"Leeside slopes gather more snow", said Arahad. "What wind there is may set it in snow may seem stabile, but it isn't. There is a layer of hoar frost under it."

Legolas eyed him uncertainly, Findel with awe.

"I don't think they'll want to move", Legolas said.

"They should, for their own safety. Maybe I should go an talk to them? For I could not stand to see you hurt or killed when I could have prevented it. Especially not one as young as you."

When he said that last thing, his features softened as if behind his sterness he was truly worried. Legolas thought over it. Tinuhen rarely listened to anything he had to say, but would be rather listen to a man, and a dirty and smelly one that may be a traitor at that? Perhaps moving the camp would sound more rational if it came from an elf, even if that elf was Legolas.

"I'll go", he said.

"That's a good lad. Come back later and Hawn can tell you that story."

When he came back to the elven camp, they had finished eating, and sat around the fire with their hands cupped around steaming mugs of birch leaf tea. Maidh greeted him at the edge of the camp.

"Just making sure the rangers don't steal our provisions", he said. "You never know with men."

Tinuhen and Beren sat across the fire. Legolas tried to look rational and mature when he approached.

"Tinuhen", he said, "I've spoken to the rangers, and they're not at all bad. Their leader had been higher up the peak scouting and-"

"Not interested", Tinuhen said. "I have more important..."

"No, this is important!" Legolas said. "Arahad says that we should move our camp, because the snow is on the leeside so there may be an avalanche and then it will sweep right over us..."

"Young one", Tinuhen said patiently, "we have already thought about snowslides, and this is not the right..."

"It was something about hoar frost", Legolas said, but now he could not remember how Arahad had worded it and it suddenly sounded very unlikely. "That, and the wind... it wouldn't hurt to move just a little would it?"

"Listen, Legolas..." Beren reached for his shoulder and patted it. "I'm sure the rangers know a lot of the mountains, but it is a very big affair, and possibly a risky one too, too move a camp at night. It is too dark to be certain we find a safe place to camp."

"Then move to the rangers."

"We will not move to the rangers."

"But..."

"Enough", Tinuhen said. "You have let them talk you into things. I was afraid of that. Come and sit here. There are a few things I wanted to talk to you about."

"But I promised to go back..."

"It is too late, you must go to sleep soon."

"And hear a story..."

"What makes you think the rangers have better stories than us?" Tinuhen asked. "We have already told stories, while you were over there with those barbarians. Now sit down, there are things I need to discuss with you."

Legolas bit his lip. He should have known it would end like this, and now Tinuhen would never listen to Arahad either.

"Are you not going to sit down?" Tinuhen asked. "Fine, then you may stand. Tomorrow, as you know, we will arrive in Imladris, and meet lord Elrond. You will be wearing your finery and Beren will braid your hair. I don't want to see it dirty or torn..."

"I'm not a baby!" Legolas snapped. He shouldn't have, but he was so tired of Tinuhen constantly nagging at him, and maybe he was also slightly tired of himself for giving him reasons to. "Do you really think I'm going to, what, run off and climb a tree in those clothes? Because I wasn't going to!"

"Well... of course you weren't", Tinuhen said, taken aback. "Of course not, Legolas. I was just... That is good, then. You also need to know how to greet lord Elrond properly. He is not a king, as father, you know, but a lord, but he also bows to no one. When we arrive, he will come and meet us outside and I will say the important things, and I want you to keep quiet and look polite. When I present you, you must say that you are pleased to come to Rivendell and hope to be learning much from the wise noldor there."

"And if I don't hope that?"

"Then you will say it anyway", Tinuhen said. "You are here and you will do what you are told. I did not bring you through that forest for no reason. If I could have just left you at home I would have done that."

"I wouldn't have minded", Legolas said.

Tinuhen's eyes narrowed. "What's the matter with you? Is anything wrong?"

"You are", Legolas said, balling his fists. "I'm going to the rangers. At least they don't hate me."

"I don't - come back here, you little idiot!"

Legolas walked away, heart pounding, but Tinuhen did not follow. Snow whirled from the mountain peak, the wind threw itself upon him when he rounded the rock. He tried to think of Hawn's tale about the bear, but somehow it did not seem as interesting as before.

Findel waited outside the camp, and this time Legolas called out to not startle him.

"Will they move?"

"No. They said it would be dangerous because it's dark."

"Ah, well, they are right", said Findel and threw a glance towards the mountain peak. "Let's hope it will be fine, then. Come along. Hawn was really eager to..."

He fell silent, still looking to the mountain peak.

In the white up there was a dark crack, a gap that went wider and wider; behind the falling snow the grey stone was visible.

Without thinking Legolas turned; he must get back to the elven camp, he must warn -

"No!" Findel cried and caught him around the waist. "Stay here! Avalanche! AVALANCHE!"

So sorry for the cliff-hanger, guys! ^^'

Also for the lack of updates last week - I had some issues with this chapter that needed to be solved. Next week will update as usual!

Thank you for reading and please review!