Disclaimers: I don't own any characters or settings from Lord of the Rings.

Act VII

The Elvenking's Stand

Chapter 52: A Journey Through Mirkwood

They rode long hours, their first destination being Erech, a plain in Gondor situated at the mouth of the Blackroot Vale, far to the west of Minas Tirith, near the southern entrance to the Paths of the Dead. Upon it stood the Hill of Erech and a smooth black globe, the Stone of Erech.

Throughout the journey, Legolas maintained a stoic silence, speaking only when necessary to guide them through an alternate path. His mind churned with the vexation that Arien had followed them. The thought of her discovering their journey to Mirkwood and impulsively joining them gnawed at him. Why had she done it?

He could ask her directly, but his pride hindered him. It stood in the way of obtaining the answers he sought from Arien.

But deep down, what truly troubled him was last night's kiss. He tried to dismiss the part where Arien had been teasing or seeking her revenge. She had her reasons, but he had simply fallen into the trap. Why had he kissed her?

He found no answers, and Arien seemed disinclined to discuss the matter. Instead, she chatted more with Gimli. They spoke about gems, a favorite topic of the dwarf, and once again, that coffee she seemed fixated on.

As they camped at Erech, Legolas set up the camp, Gimli promised to prepare the stew, and Arien tended to the fire. The night descended upon them, wrapping the landscape in shadows and silence.

They ate their meal without much conversation, each lost in their thoughts. Gimli cleaned his axe and pondered tomorrow's meal, his mind wandering to thoughts of food. Arien spread out an old map, meticulously working on it. Inspired by her work on Legolas's mother's map, she had taken to sketching her own journeys on a map of Middle-earth.

Legolas sat on a fallen trunk, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames of the fire. He noted what Arien and Gimli were doing but said nothing. The awkwardness from the previous night's kiss still hung in the air, rendering the trio unusually quiet.

As the evening wore on, Arien, struggling to sketch Erech, mumbled aloud about the place. Her words reached Legolas's ears. After a pause, he began to speak, his voice melodic and soothing against the backdrop of the night.

"Erech," he began, "is a place shrouded in mystery and eerie tales. It became a haunted site, abandoned by the people of the valley who claimed it was inhabited by restless spirits. By the end of the Third Age, it was completely deserted. During the time of King Arvedui of Arthedain, a prophecy was made about the dead rising during the War of the Ring. The Stone of Erech was mentioned in this prophecy."

Arien paused her sketching, captivated by the story. She listened intently to Legolas's voice, letting it guide her into a sense of calm. Without even looking at him, she felt the weight of the day's exhaustion pulling her into sleep.

Legolas's voice continued softly, and soon she was fast asleep, leaning against her bedding.

over to Legolas, his expression curious and concerned. "What's been happening, lad?" he asked. "There's more to this journey than you're letting on, isn't there?"

Legolas sighed, looking into the fire. "Indeed, Gimli. There is much on my mind, and much that troubles me. But for now, let us rest. Tomorrow, we continue our journey, and perhaps, the path ahead will bring clarity."

Gimli nodded, sensing the weight of Legolas's thoughts. He patted his friend on the shoulder, offering silent support. The two friends sat in companionable silence, the crackling fire casting flickering shadows around them, as the night deepened and the stars above bore witness to their unspoken resolve.

The next morning, the trio awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the trees. The air was crisp and cool, a refreshing contrast to the lingering warmth of the dying embers of their campfire. They gathered their belongings in silence, the routine of packing up camp providing a momentary distraction from their thoughts.

Legolas led the way as they set out, his keen eyes scanning the path ahead. Gimli followed closely, his sturdy form a reassuring presence. Arien brought up the rear, her mind still turning over the events of the past days. Despite the tension that lingered between them, they moved as one, their shared purpose guiding their steps.

Their route took them through the Blackroot Vale, a region of Gondor known for its dense forests and hidden valleys. The path was narrow and winding, flanked by towering trees that cast long shadows on the ground. The morning light filtered through the leaves, creating a dappled pattern on the forest floor. Birds chirped overhead, and the rustling of small animals in the underbrush provided a comforting background noise.

As they traveled, the landscape began to change. The dense forests of the Blackroot Vale gave way to rolling hills and open plains. They passed through small villages and farms, where the people greeted them with wary curiosity. The scars of war were still visible, but there was a sense of determination in the air as the inhabitants worked to rebuild their lives.

The journey was not without its challenges. They encountered the remnants of Sauron's forces, bands of orcs, and other creatures still roaming the land. Each skirmish was a reminder of the lingering threat that hung over Middle-earth. But they faced these dangers with a grim determination, their skills honed by countless battles.

One evening, as they made camp near a quiet stream, Gimli brought out his pipe and began to smoke, the fragrant smoke curling into the night air. Arien, working on her map by the firelight, looked up and asked, "Do you think we'll ever see a time when we don't have to fight?"

Gimli puffed on his pipe thoughtfully. "Aye, lass. There will come a day when the darkness is but a memory. But that day is not today. For now, we fight so that others may know peace."

Legolas, who had been keeping watch, joined them by the fire. "Gimli is right. Peace will come, but it is something we must earn. Every step we take, every battle we fight, brings us closer to that day."

Their journey continued, taking them through the fields of Rohan and the edges of Fangorn Forest. They crossed the Anduin River at a narrow ford, the water cool and swift around their legs. The landscape grew wilder as they traveled north, the terrain becoming more rugged and the air cooler.

Finally, after days of travel, they reached the outskirts of Mirkwood. The ancient forest loomed before them, its trees towering and dark. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, and the sounds of the forest were muted, as if the very trees were holding their breath.

Legolas paused at the edge of the forest, his eyes scanning the familiar landscape. "We are close now," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. "Mirkwood lies just ahead. Be on your guard. The forest is a place of both beauty and danger. Even if Sauron's demise."

As they entered the forest, the canopy overhead closed in, casting deep shadows on the path. The air was cooler here, and the sounds of the forest seemed amplified, every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs echoing through the trees. They moved cautiously, their senses alert to any sign of danger.

The journey through Mirkwood was slow and careful. They navigated the winding paths and dense underbrush, avoiding the traps and pitfalls that lay hidden in the forest. The atmosphere was tense, each step bringing them closer to their destination and the unknown challenges that awaited them.

Despite the tension, there were moments of beauty. They passed through glades where the sunlight broke through the canopy, illuminating patches of wildflowers and creating a serene, almost magical atmosphere. In these moments, the forest seemed to welcome them, offering a brief respite from their worries.

The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy of Mirkwood, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The trio—Legolas, Gimli, and Arien—awoke to the serene sounds of nature, the soft rustling of leaves, and the distant calls of woodland creatures. It was a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere of the night before. They had camped the night before, wanting to start their journey through Mirkwood, at dawn.

Arien stretched, feeling the ache in her muscles from the previous day's ride. She glanced over at Legolas, who was already awake, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings. Gimli, still snoring softly, lay sprawled out on his bedroll, his axe resting by his side.

Legolas caught Arien's gaze and nodded in greeting. "Good morning, Lady Arien," he said, his voice low and melodic. "Did you rest well?"

Arien smiled noticing it was the first peaceful encounter they had after leaving Gondor, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "As well as can be expected in the middle of a forest," she replied. She stood and walked to the edge of their camp, looking out into the depths of Mirkwood. The forest was both beautiful and foreboding, with towering trees that seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky and a thick underbrush that whispered secrets in the wind.

Gimli stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Aye, the ground was a bit hard, but I've slept on worse," he grumbled. He reached for his axe and stood, ready to face the day.

After a quick breakfast of dried fruits and bread, the trio packed up their camp and set off deeper into the forest. The path ahead was narrow and winding, with roots and vines threatening to trip them at every step. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of pine and earth.

Legolas took the lead, his elven senses guiding them through the maze-like terrain. He moved with a grace that seemed almost supernatural, his footsteps barely making a sound on the forest floor. Arien followed closely, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. Gimli brought up the rear, his sturdy frame and unwavering determination providing a sense of security.

As they walked, Arien couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of Mirkwood. The trees were ancient, their gnarled branches twisting and turning in intricate patterns. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating a mosaic of light and shadow. It was a place of magic and mystery, a living testament to the power of nature.

Legolas glanced back at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It is said that Mirkwood holds many secrets," he said, his voice soft. "Some believe that the forest itself is alive, watching over those who pass through its depths."

Arien shivered slightly, not from fear, but from the sense of awe that Legolas' words inspired. "It's incredible," she murmured. "I can see why you love it here. Last time we crossed Mirkwood forest, I had not noticed all the details."

Gimli snorted. "Aye, it's beautiful, but it's also dangerous. We must be careful. There are creatures in these woods that would not hesitate to attack us."

The dwarf's words were a sobering reminder of the dangers they faced. Mirkwood was not just a place of beauty; it was also home to many perils. They continued on in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. As the day wore on, the forest grew darker and denser. The path became more difficult to navigate, with fallen branches and thick underbrush blocking their way. Legolas led them with unwavering confidence, his keen senses guiding them through the labyrinthine forest.

At midday, they stopped to rest by a small stream. The clear, cool water was a welcome respite, and they took the opportunity to refill their water skins and eat a simple meal. Arien sat by the water's edge, her fingers trailing through the cool liquid. The sound of the stream was soothing, a gentle melody that eased the tension in her muscles.

Legolas joined her, sitting cross-legged on a large stone. He observed that she was troubled, his gaze fixed on her, he thought of asking her a few questions, but he did not. Eventually, he sighed and looked away.

Arien sighed, looking up at him. "I can't help but worry about what lies ahead," she admitted, Arien as well not daring to start a conversation about what troubled her. "You think we will face those orcs again... From back then when they managed to attack your Halls."

Legolas reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps," he said firmly.

Gimli, who had been listening from a short distance away, nodded in agreement. "Aye, lass. No orc will get past us, not while I'm around."

Arien smiled, feeling a renewed sense of determination. With friends like Legolas and Gimli by her side, she knew she could face whatever challenges lay ahead. Because Arien, knew how trustworthy both of them were, but other questions were rising, questions she too, did not want to acknowledge.

As they continued their journey, the forest seemed to grow darker and more oppressive. The trees loomed overhead, their branches intertwining to form a dense canopy that blocked out most of the sunlight. The air grew cooler, and an eerie silence settled over the forest.

Legolas held up a hand, signaling for them to stop. "We must be cautious," he warned.

They moved forward slowly, every sense on high alert. The path became narrower, and the underbrush thicker. The forest seemed to close in around them, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the forest, followed by a series of guttural growls. Legolas drew his bow, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "Stay close," he instructed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Gimli tightened his grip on his axe, his eyes narrowing. "Sounds like we've got company," he muttered.

Arien drew her sword, her heart pounding in her chest. The growls grew louder, and she could see movement in the shadows. A group of large, dark shapes emerged from the underbrush, their eyes glowing with a menacing light.

The trio moved into a defensive formation, ready to face the threat head-on. Legolas loosed an arrow, striking one of the orcs in the chest. Gimli charged forward, his axe swinging in powerful arcs. Arien followed, her sword flashing as she engaged the nearest orc.

The battle was intense, the air filled with the sounds of clashing steel and the guttural cries of the orcs. Legolas moved with the grace and precision of a master archer, each arrow finding its mark. Gimli fought with fierce determination, his powerful strikes cutting down orc after orc. Arien held her own, her training and experience guiding her movements.

Despite their prowess, the orcs were relentless. For everyone they felled, another seemed to take its place. The trio fought with everything they had, their bond and trust in each other driving them forward.

As the last orc fell, the forest grew silent once more. The trio stood amidst the fallen bodies, their breaths coming in heavy gasps. They had won, but the victory was hard-fought.

Legolas lowered his bow, his eyes scanning the forest for any further threats. "Is everyone alright?" he asked, his voice calm but edged with concern.

Gimli nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Aye, I'm fine. Just a bit winded."

Arien sheathed her sword, her hands trembling slightly. "I'm alright," she said, though her voice wavered. "That was... intense."

Legolas placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Lifting her face up to make sure she was alright. And after he was assured, he stepped back removing his hand from her.

The trio took a moment to catch their breath and assess their injuries. Thankfully, none of them were seriously hurt. They knew, however, that they needed to stay vigilant. The forest was still dangerous, and more threats could be lurking in the shadows.

Before they departed, Legolas meticulously gathered his arrows, carefully inspecting the fallen orcs. Arien observed him intently; it was unusual to see the elf scrutinize the orcs with such detail. She understood his motive—Legolas was ensuring that none of the attackers were elves, as he feared that his kin might have been involved in the assault on Mirkwood. This concern was the primary reason for his return. Though Arien remained silent, the unspoken tension between them was palpable, the weight of unsaid words hanging heavily in the air.

The path ahead was still fraught with challenges, but they faced it with renewed resolve. They would protect Mirkwood and each other, no matter what dangers lay ahead. And through it all, the beauty and mystery of the forest would continue to inspire and guide them on their journey.

As they neared the heart of Mirkwood, the trees began to thin, and the path widened. They could see the silhouette of Thranduil's halls in the distance, a majestic structure carved into the rock and surrounded by ancient trees. The sight filled them with a sense of relief and accomplishment. Their journey was nearly at an end, but the challenges that lay ahead were still unknown.

Legolas turned to Arien and Gimli, his expression serious but determined. "We have made it this far. Stay close, and we will see this through."

They nodded in agreement, their resolve strengthened by their shared journey. As they approached the gates of Thranduil's halls, they knew that their adventure was far from over, but they were ready to face whatever challenges awaited them.

((Upcoming Chapter Fifty - Three))

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