List of Characters:

Legolas: Come on

Thranduil: Legolas’s father and King of the Wood land Realm

Girithron: Legolas’s elder brother, the third child and second son of Thranduil. Is the heir to the kingdom as Thranduil’s eldest, Celeguir, was killed at Dagorland.

Brethil: the warrior who saved Legolas from an orc, and goes with him to Imladris.

Adwanoth: Captain of the Palace Guard

Lalorn: Legolas’s mother

Hananuir: the third son and fourth child of Thranduil, one of Legolas’s older brother.

Gwiwileth: Thranduil’s only daughter and second child, Legolas’s sister.

Lebanuir: Guard who is assigned to watch Gollum. Was a friend to Hananuir.

Danuas: Another Elven guard.

Ivanneth: Thranduil’s chief Advisor.

Faelthinor: Younger warrior and friend of Legolas, who goes with him to Imladris.

Neldorin: Veteran warrior who accompanies Legolas to Imladris.

Maen: Legolas’s horse.

Carad: Hananuir’s horse.

Annalith: Imladris Elf, healer.

Banuir: Another Imladris Elf, also a healer.

Oranor: Another Imladris Elf, helped carry Hananuir’s litter.

The Result of Failure

Chapter Five: Journey

Thranduil embraced his youngest son for the last time. He smiled at Hananuir. His sons were leaving today for Imladris. He scanned their escort for the last time, making sure all was in place. He had chosen Brethil, Faelthinor and Neldorin to accompany his sons. Brethil was a good leader, Faelthinor was young, but fought well, and Neldorin was a veteran who had been at Dagorland with Thranduil. He trusted these warriors to escort his sons safely to Imladris and back.

When Faelthinor shifted impatiently, Thranduil realized that his sentimentality was holding them up.

“Ah, forgive me. Hananuir, Legolas, I trust you will represent the Woodland Realm well. Namaarie.”

Beside him Gwiwileth and Girithron smiled at their father. Girithron beamed proudly at his brothers.

“Namaarie, and good luck!” He called.

Gwiwileth planted a kiss on each of her brother’s cheeks. None but Legolas noticed the wink that Gwiwileth made while kissing him.  “Namaarie,” she said.

“Namaarie, Adar.” Legolas and Hananuir called and waved, as they mounted their horses.

Thranduil motioned to Neldorin, who stood nearby. He came forward and bowed to his king.

“Neldorin, take care of my sons.” Thranduil spoke softly, not wanting Hananuir and Legolas to know that he was worried about their safety, despite the fact that both were accomplished warriors.

Neldorin nodded briefly, not at all surprised with the king’s worry. “I will, my lord.” He bowed again to Thranduil and went to join the rest of the party. Hananuir rode in the lead, and the rest followed him. Legolas waved to his family before turning his back to them.

Thranduil waved back and smiled sadly. He was already impatient to have them back home again.

***

The journey out of the Woodland Realm was very uneventful.  It took the party three days to journey from the Palace to the Old Forest Road, which ran horizontally through Mirkwood. Hananuir had been reluctant to use the Road, arguing that it was the common way for Orcs. He had been overruled by Neldorin, who informed him that their party was rather small to face any large groups of Orcs, which would inevitably be found if they kept off the Road and in the Forest.

“Furthermore,” he had added. “The trees are infested with spiders. We do not have the time to deal with that annoyance. We shall make for the Road, meet what we will.”

Hananuir had frowned and consented, remaining rather moody for the rest of the day. They did not; however, encounter anything on their journey to the Road. Faelthinor believed that they were still too near the Palace to find anything. When he voiced this opinion, he earned disapproval from his comrades, especially his Princes. The attack on their Palace and on their mother’s life would never be forgotten.

They reached the Road in good time, arriving half a day ahead of their estimate. The set out again immediately, not wanting to waste good daylight. Their journey on the Road took one week. They reached the Old Ford with no incidents to speak of. They had not seen hide or hair of Orc or spider. Neldorin, Brethil and Hananuir were suspicious, and doubly cautious of their movements. While Legolas did not throw caution to the wind, he and Faelthinor were glad of the rest. Legolas, however, was very anxious about something he could not quite describe.

They crossed the Ford and continued west, hoping to arrive at the High Pass, in another week, and take one more week to arrive in Imladris. This would bring their journey time to a total of three weeks. They had not set a pressing pace, as the Council was only set for late October and they had set out on the last day of September, knowing that they would arrive in plenty of time.

As their journey continued, Legolas’s anxiety increased. He felt a strange sense of foreboding in the air, as if Arda held its breath for something yet to come. He was anxious because the First-born had strong ties with the earth, and if they felt something amiss, then they were usually justified. He did not feel that this was the ideal time or situation to be justified in such worrisome thoughts.

Legolas frowned and shook his head, dispelling these useless pursuits. “What will happen, will happen, whether I like it or not.” He spurred Maen to go faster. He reached Hananuir, who led the party, and spoke to his brother.

“Hananuir, we are approaching the foot of the Misty Mountains, and still we have not met with enemies. Surely they are not all at home?”

Hananuir smiled grimly. “Nay, little brother, they are around here somewhere. Stay alert; I fear an ambush once we reach the mountains.”

“It is the perfect location for an attack.” Neldorin spoke up from his position behind Hananuir. “They will come at us in the night, when we are hindered by darkness, and perhaps foul weather.”

“The weather will hold.” Brethil scanned the sky. “It is our enemies that I am not so sure of.”

“Ai! What is this talk? We have been graced with safety thus far, and you lot would wish for enemies and foul weather? Do not spoil the day! Let them come, I say, if they will. We are more than enough for them.” Faelthinor thrust his fist in the air in defiance.

“Steady, Faelthinor. It is best to be prepared for the worst.” Neldorin’s warning was not lost upon the group; they rode in silence until nightfall, when they halted at a likely clearing.

“This should do. It is very defendable, and there is water nearby.” Hananuir approved the site, and the company scattered to complete their evening tasks.

Legolas and Brethil scouted the surroundings, finding nothing. They rejoined the group around the fire that Neldorin had made. They ate a small dinner of lembas and dried meat, preferring to conserve their supplies for the mountains ahead. The next leg of their journey could prove treacherous, for foul weather or Orcs could force them to remain in the same spot for many days. Hananuir and Brethil planned the next day.

“We shall journey at dawn, that way we can arrive at the High Pass the day after tomorrow. It will take only two days to cross, leaving us three days to arrive in Imladris.”

“Three days? So exact?” Faelthinor mocked.

Brethil frowned at the younger warrior. “I calculated three weeks to arrive in Imladris. So far, I have been correct in my guess, young one. Do you doubt me?”

“Nay, I was merely jesting, Brethil.” Faelthinor protested.

“That is enough, Faelthinor. Let us stop bickering and sleep. We set off early tomorrow.” Hananuir ended their argument, and after they had decided upon watches, they retired for the night.

Faelthinor, who had received the first watch, did not see the pair of eyes that contemplated him in the darkness. He sat silently upon a rock, remembering a pretty maiden he had left at home…

***

Legolas soothed a terrified Maen. The High Pass was proving more treacherous than before, according to Neldorin, who had crossed it many times.

“It did not use to be so rocky. Perhaps there has been a rock slide?”

Brethil snorted while trying to calm his own terrified mount. “We should not have brought the horses.”

“Nonsense,” Hananuir countered. “We would never have made such good time on foot. It would have taken us twice as long, and we would have been more prone to attack.”

Legolas stiffened suddenly, as he heard an unexpected sound. Beside him, Neldorin tensed as well. The others in the rear noticed their discomfort.

“Legolas? Neldorin? What is amiss?” Hananuir frowned at his brother.

“I heard a sound, like the clang of metal. It could not be ours, for we do not carry heavy armor, nor are our swords unsheathed. It sounded like Orc.”

Neldorin nodded his agreement, as the whole group paused to listen more closely. After several moments, when nothing was heard, they continued.

Legolas had drawn his bow, and notched an arrow to it. The others had done the same. They continued walking upwards in silence, pausing every now and then to listen to their surroundings. Not another sound was heard. They reached the peak of the Pass at dusk, as planned, and found an outcropping of boulders that could serve as a camp. They did not light a fire, but sat in silence, quietly eating their way bread.

“I think,” Brethil spoke, “that we should consider a double watch this night.”

“Perhaps, but we do not want to seem overly cautious. We do not want any enemies that could be watching us to sense our awareness.” Hananuir whispered softly.

“Nay, Hananuir. Brethil is right. We travel with royalty, and caution is the most important lesson that can be observed.” Neldorin countered.

Hananuir frowned slightly, but agreed in the end. They drew the watches, Legolas and Neldorin the first; Faelthinor and Brethil the second; Hananuir and Neldorin, again, the last. The others settled in their bed rolls as Legolas and Neldorin circled the camp, alert for signs of danger. They found nothing, as did Faelthinor and Brethil.

The night was silent, and cold. The stars did not shine very brightly, obscured by low-lying clouds. The wind had picked up in the early hours of the morning, chilling the bone.

Hananuir had just awakened for his watch. He stretched, and signaled to Neldorin to cover the left side of the camp, while he did the right. He scanned his surroundings, Elven sight examining every detail.

Suddenly, Hananuir saw Neldorin tense. He looked over at the veteran and saw, to his horror, black shapes moving stealthily. He tiptoes softly to where Neldorin stood.

“Neldorin,” he whispered. “How many?”

“About a score. They are not aware of us yet, but if they turn around, they will stumble headlong into our camp.”

“I will awake the others. Stand guard.”

Hananuir approached each warrior softly, only needing a whispered word or two to wake each Elf. The warriors reached for their bows, and swords, which had not lain far. According to Neldorin, if any attack were to occur it would take place from behind them. They turned and formed a line in front of their horses, fingering their bows, waiting for a target.

Brethil took charge of the group, whistling softly like an owl. Legolas smiled grimly as he interpreted Brethil’s message. “Wait until all of them come our way.” They had all done this for hundreds of years. Every Elf in the group knew how to deal with Orcs.

Legolas’s keen eyes picked out the Orcs as they headed straight for the Elves. There were about twenty of them, heavily armed, mostly with scimitars. The Elves would prove this to be a very one sided battle. Legolas stood to attention, and waited for the call that would send his arrows into Orc flesh.

It came. Legolas drew, aimed and fired. Without waiting to see if his arrow had met its mark, he shot again, and again. The Orcs didn’t stand a chance. There were only five of them left when a new sound entered the chaos of battle: an Elven scream of pain.

Legolas gasped as he identified the voice to be Hananuir. He turned to find his brother, just as he heard Brethil’s call. The Orcs were coming from behind as well! Legolas cursed as he realized they had been surrounded. There had been Orcs than just the original twenty! He whirled and shot an Orc in the throat, while still trying to find Hananuir. He heard a sound behind him, and turned to prevent an Orc from decapitating him. He ducked as another Orc swung its blade at his stomach, and then plunged his knife in its back. He saw Faelthinor receive a slash to his shoulder from an Orc who was crazily swinging its blade every which way. Legolas quickly dispatched it, and hurried to Faelthinor’s side.

“It is nothing, just a scratch. Legolas! Turn!” Faelthinor shouted as an Orc popped out of nowhere. Legolas jabbed his knife into its stomach.

“Faelthinor, stand at my back.” The two Elves stood back to back to effectively fight the onslaught of Orcs. Legolas had run out of arrows, and was reduced to using his knife to kill. He clenched his jaw and as Orc blade met with his thigh. He heard Faelthinor curse as  three Orcs converged on him. Neldorin appeared in the darkness, and dispatched them quickly.

Suddenly the Orcs stopped coming; the battle was over. Legolas scanned his surrounding wildly for Hananuir. He finally spotted him and Brethil crouched behind a large boulder. He ran over to his brother.

“Hananuir! I heard your shout! Are you hurt?” Legolas stopped dead as Brethil removed a blood soaked cloth from his brothers back. The wound was deep and bleeding profusely. Hananuir smiled weakly at Legolas, but closed his eyes in pain as Brethil continued to cleanse the wound.

“Ai, Brethil. What happened?” Legolas knelt beside them.

“Poisoned arrow. Came from behind. I’ve removed the head, but the poison is rather strong. I do not like it. Where is Neldorin? He is more of a healer than I.”

“Neldorin!” Legolas hurried over to where Neldorin crouched next to Faelthinor.

“Foolish Elf,” the veteran muttered. “’Tis no more than a scratch, but one you could have avoided if you had blocked the swing.”

Faelthinor grimaced. “I did not think it would hit me.”

“Neldorin.” The older warrior glanced at Legolas.

“What is amiss, Legolas? Ai, you are bleeding. Stand still.” Neldorin began to widen the hole in Legolas’s slashed leggings, to see his wound.

“Nay, Neldorin. Hananuir is gravely hurt; a poisoned arrow. Tend to him first.” Neldorin nodded and they both moved to where the Prince lay. Hananuir had paled considerably and lay shivering on the rocky ground.

Brethil frowned as Neldorin took his place over Hananuir. “I do not like it, Neldorin. This is a fast-acting poison. I removed the head, but not soon enough.”

Neldorin’s brows knitted together as he examined Hananuir.

Legolas could hardly stand still. “He will...is it alright?” His throat had suddenly gone dry.

Neldorin looked up. “We should get him to Imladris as quickly as possible. I dare not stitch the wound. The poison must leak out first.”

Brethil stared at Neldorin. “Nay, he will loose too much blood!”

“Brethil! I cannot close this wound, for then the poison would take a stronger hold on him. We must get him to Imladris! Prepare the others; we leave tonight.”

The group was ready in ten minutes. Legolas had not left Hananuir’s side. He hardly noticed when Neldorin cleansed his thigh wound.

“Legolas.” Mirkwood’s youngest Prince turned to look at Neldorin.

“Legolas, this wound is not poisoned, but it’s rather deep and I would feel better if I stitched it for you.” Legolas did not even blink.

Neldorin tore away the remaining fabric covering the wound, wiped it, and began to sew it up. Brethil watched Legolas’s rather dumbfounded expression, and decided to help his Prince.

“Legolas,” he laid a hand on Legolas’s shoulder. “Put this in your mouth.” Brethil handed him a piece of leather, from his quiver. Legolas seemed to become aware of his situation. He hurriedly bit down on the leather before Neldorin began stitching. Legolas concentrated on his brother, so he wouldn’t think about his wound, which was beginning to feel painful. Neldorin finished quickly, and bandaged the cut.

“Legolas, I would caution you not to walk or run very far just yet, I do not want you to re-open this. You will be riding, until the terrain becomes impossible. Do not worry,” he added at Legolas’s crestfallen expression, “Hananuir will be taken care of. He will ride with me.”

Legolas nodded, and went to mount Maen. Brethil took command, directing Faelthinor to be their rear-guard, as he took the lead. Neldorin came second, with Hananuir in his arms, Legolas behind them, leading Hananuir’s horse, Carad. They rode swiftly out of the summit, but their progress was halted in the descent. There was no coherent path, merely loose rocks, and patches of dead grass. They were forced to dismount and pick their way on foot. Neldorin placed Hananuir on Carad, but Legolas’s brother showed no signs of improvement.

The sun finally rose, pale and cold, doing nothing to alleviate the frigid temperature. Legolas shivered in his cloak, wishing that he had been more vigilant. “It should have been I to have taken that arrow, not Hananuir. The fault is mine, that we are going this way; I let Gollum escape.” Legolas ground his teeth at the thought of that vile creature.

Legolas thoughts were interrupted as he stumbled over a loose rock in the way. He cried out as he landed on his injured thigh. Faelthinor rushed ahead to where Legolas lay. Ahead, Brethil and Neldorin stopped walking. Faelthinor helped Legolas to his feet.

“Are you much injured, Legolas?” Neldorin called.

“Nay, I will be alright.” Legolas winced as his wound throbbed painfully, but refused to acquiesce to the pain he was feeling. Hananuir needs my help now.  With this thought, he took Maen’s reins in his hand and began walking. Brethil took the hint and walked forward. Behind Legolas, Faelthinor shrugged at Neldorin, deciding to let the issue pass. Neldorin checked to see if Hananuir was secure, gave Legolas a worried glance, and continued on the path.

They walked for an hour in silence. Neldorin had been monitoring Legolas, and Faelthinor, deciding that the former, and perhaps even the latter, could do with some rest. He whistled softly to Brethil, who turned. At a glance from Neldorin, Brethil announced a stop.

Legolas sighed gratefully as he heard Brethil’s call. He sagged tiredly onto a rock that conveniently lay to the side of the way. Beside him, Faelthinor leaned against his mount, massaging his injured shoulder. Neldorin and Brethil tended to Hananuir, noting that he had not improved.

Brethil checked to see if Legolas was listening. “Neldorin, he is worsening.”

“What would you have me do, Brethil? The blood is not clotting, and the poison seems to have given him some sort of fever.” Neldorin had noted that Hananuir had been shivering constantly, and therefore he had added his cloak to the one already covering the Prince.

“We must move on, now.” Neldorin nodded and scanned the two younger members of the party. Faelthinor was still massaging his shoulder and Legolas was resting on a rock. Neldorin knew that they could not afford to delay.

Brethil watched Neldorin as he observed Legolas and Hananuir. He nodded as Neldorin shrugged. “Legolas, Faelthinor. We must continue on to Imladris. The trail will improve shortly, as we put this rise behind us. Then we may mount.” Both Elves nodded, and the party made to continue onward.

Legolas took three steps forward, before stopping as he heard a call in the wilderness. Brethil straightened, and Faelthinor cried out joyfully. “That was an Elven call!” They stopped, and Brethil whistled.

An answering whistle was heard, and then a party of six Elves of Imladris appeared over the edge of the rise. They waved joyfully, but their faces darkened as they noticed Hananuir’s form on his horse. Their leader, distinguishable when he began to issue orders, motioned two Elves over to where Hananuir lay. The taller of the two introduced himself as Annalith, and the other was Banuir. They were both healers.

The rest of the party grouped next to Brethil, conferring on the course of action. Faelthinor smiled upon recognizing an old friend. Legolas approached Hananuir and the Elves surrounding him. Annalith, Banuir and Neldorin conferred in soft voices. When their hushed voices become even lower, Legolas lost his patience.

“Neldorin, Annalith, Banuir, please tell me. Will he make it?” Legolas’s throat closed on the last word.

Annalith looked up. “He will. We have given him some stronger medicine. It is fortunate that Lord Elrond received a letter from King Thranduil, or we should have never found you.”

“A letter?” Legolas did not recall his father’s sending any such letter.

“Yes, informing Lord Elrond that you would be coming to the Council. You are long expected, and he thought you might have wounded in your party that would delay you.”

Brethil had approached them, and frowned at this news. “That cannot be so; we were right on schedule until last night, when we were attacked. Surely you did not expect us to make Imladris in less than three weeks.”

“Three weeks!” Banuir stared at Brethil. “It should only take you two. Why so long?”

Neldorin placed a hand on the agitated Brethil. “It took two weeks to cross this distance long ago, before the Shadow returned. Since then we must travel with more caution, and skirt the quicker passages in our forest. It will take even longer now, that the High Pass is infested with Orcs. For surely the large band that attacked us in the night is not here alone. Indeed, I fear another ambush. We should start moving.”

The other Elves nodded their consent, and went to pack up. Legolas remained by Hananuir’s side. Annalith gave instructions to find materials to make a litter, and the other Elves scattered to find materials.

Meanwhile, Neldorin had been speaking with Banuir. Both approached Legolas as he watched Hananuir worriedly.

“Legolas, I told Banuir about your wound, and I have noticed that it pains you. Sit here,” he gestured at a rock, “so he can inspect it.”

Legolas nodded and sat down reluctantly, as the Imladris healer inspected the wound and Neldorin’s stitching.

“This wound will heal shortly. It is not poisoned, but rather deep. You have done well to stitch it.” He nodded at Neldorin. “However, it pains you, and therefore I will give you some herbs.”

“Wait,” Legolas protested. “I am not afraid of pain, and I do not want my senses to be dulled. I need to stay alert!”

Banuir looked sidelong at Neldorin, who nodded. “Very well then. However,” he added at Legolas’s relieved expression, “the minute you arrive in Imladris you will receive medicine. And if that wound causes you an excess amount of pain, and prevents you keeping with the group, then I will administer the necessary herbs. Is that clear?”

Legolas nodded meekly under the healer’s intense stare. The other Elves began to return with materials to build a crude litter. It was quickly constructed. Hananuir did not move when he was placed on the littler, only increasing the fear of those around him.

The Imladris Elves were not mounted, so the Woodland Elves led their mounts. Both Banuir and Neldorin, however, motioned for Legolas to ride. When he protested, Banuir reminded him of the medicine. Legolas grimaced and sullenly mounted Maen.

The party moved swiftly, although burdened with a litter.  Another Imladris Elf, Oranor, carried the back end of the litter, while Annalith took the front. The party left the High Pass and traveled onward to Imladris.

As they turned downward, and began their descent of the mountain, silent movements occurred in their wake. Yellow eyes watched their departure with hatred, black bodies hid in caves, or behind boulders, all the while observing, learning of their enemies, memorizing their movements. The High Pass had been taken into Shadow.

Adar- “Father” (ada- “dad/dy”)

Iôn Nín- “My son”

Naneth- “Mother” (nana- “mom/my”)

Valar- The gods of Middle Earth.