Cadenza

Set in the same universe as 'Adagio' and 'Mayflies'. One hundred years into
the fourth age.

Drama/Adventure/Angst   A/L/G OC Friendship fic. No slash. R for violence.

Beta by the wonderful Theresa Green - Read all her stories, they are very
funny and very good.

Chapter Twelve

The wind attempted to pluck one slight wood-elf from his perch, high on a spire of rock. Legolas was trying to be systematic, examining the moon-drenched quilt of black and white that was the White Mountain range.

From his high point he could just make out the dim pinpricks of yellow light that revealed the farms of the Snowbourn valley, but no other sign of life was obvious in the mottled night. He could hear nothing except the howling wind wearing down the mountains.

Legolas marked the pass where he had agreed to meet the twins at moonset, and then jumped down from his eyrie. He had spotted a likely route that would lead him near one of the mines the Dwarves had pledged to hold for the alliance. Perhaps one of the companies of small folk had noticed the passing of the Withergield warriors.

As he descended from his vantage point, the high cliffs of Thrihyrne seemed to wrap him in stone again, blocking off his view, and intensifying the strength of the gale. Thinning his lips in determination he pushed on into the night, picking his way down a cliff that barred his path, concentration robbing him momentarily of his awareness of the eyes that marked him as a dark spot on the moon drenched wall, and noted both his progress and direction of travel.

Legolas made good time along a sharp divide, and then had to enter the maze of cliffs and gullies that formed the lower ridges of the great mountain range. Soon he would be far enough down to enter the forest that clothed the lower slopes. He was looking forward to leaving the unspeaking stones for the gossip of the forest; sure he would find out from the trees the location of his missing foes.

He paused once more, uncertain of which gully would lead him to the mine he had spotted on his earlier reconnaissance. Suddenly his deliberations were shattered by a crossbow bolt that split a rock just in front of him, peppering the elf with stinging shards of stone. The elf's bow was in his hands in purest instinct, the wavering tip of an arrow seeking for a target even as his brain caught up with his reflexes and identified the wind-muffled footsteps of one of the company that approached him.

"Gimli!"  He barked in irritation at the black shadows that were even now resolving themselves into small warriors trotting out of a side path. Legolas lowered his bow, slightly.

"Made you jump, though, Laddie. That was worth almost getting spitted for." Gimli sounded as if he could hardly contain his mirth.

Legolas relaxed his stance and jumped lightly down from the boulder he was standing on. He walked over to his friend and deliberately loomed over him for a moment. Gimli stood his ground, which surprised neither of them. 

 
Legolas looked along the line of dwarven warriors and noticed they had a prisoner.

"Company?"

"He sings a merry tale. Claims his leader is the King of Rohan, unjustly spurned. Claims his people are even now reclaiming his heritage." Gimli walked with the elf along the line of dwarves and took the end of the rope halter from the sturdy axe-wielder who had been leading him. He tugged the captive into the moonlight.

"I thought to bring him to Aragorn and Elfwine. Think you they would be interested in his tale?"

The bound man spat at Gimli's feet. The guard beside him hit him hard on the back with the flat of his axe causing the man to stumble to one knee. Legolas looked down at the prisoner dispassionately, thinking.

"This may be old news by now. I should think that the women holding Osbaston Keep would have been convinced to talk. The King was not amused by their deception. Nor was Elfwine."

Gimli looked a little startled. "Women hold the Keep?"

Legolas smiled rather grimly, "It seems our foes had urgent business elsewhere. Aragorn was in the process of persuading the women to tell him what they thought they were doing when I left to find my enemies."

The prisoner looked up, alarm on his face. "What would Gondor want with Osbaston? The usurper Elfwine is weak. Our women are safe from him."

The mismatched pair looked down at the man, considering. Then dismissed him as of no consequence and walked back to the front of the line.

"Wait!" called the man. "They would not hurt the women, Frecern said…" The man's cries became muffled in the wind and Gimli looked up at Legolas, waiting for his decision.

"Could you take him to Aragorn, friend Gimli? I must rendezvous with Elladan and Elrohir in an hour or so. We would catch up with you," the elf sniffed the air, "oh, about dawn, I should think." Gimli looked up at his friend and rocked back on his heels. "Aye we will away. Until dawn, Elf."

**

Another crossbow bolt bounced from the brickwork not a hand's breath from Minuial's face and she ducked back, just long enough to calculate trajectories, then darted out to fire her own longbow, well before the other archer would have had time to re-load. She found her target, and another of the attacking rebels fell from the roof opposite to the narrow alley below.

"Stupid weapon, the crossbow." She remarked with some ire to Throndar, who was sheltering behind the chimney pot adjacent to her own, nursing his own slightly shorter battle-scarred longbow.

"Only if you miss, my Lady." The old soldier replied evenly, as another bolt skittered between them, over the tiles to wedge itself in the sill of the skylight behind them. The short, brutal, shaft buried itself, thrumming, to the halfway point in the soft wood and the elf and the man considered it for a moment. Neither wanted their foes to become any more skilled any time soon.

Throndar darted to the opposite side of his own chimney pot and also found his target, although he was answered with a yell, not a satisfying falling body. They both heard reinforcements moving up through the house opposite but took the lull in firing to mean that they had time to retreat to a slightly more secure position on the opposite side of Gleowyn's roof ridge.

"How many more arrows, Throndar?" Minuial knew she had ten.

"Eight, my Lady," the man replied. They would not be able to defend the roof for much longer.

Minuial signalled for the man to retreat back into the skylight. The soldier met her eye for a challenging second, then nodded and slipped into the hole as quickly as he could.

Minuial reflected, as she covered him, that he was agile despite his age and his limp, and competent, for which she was even more grateful. A pity they had not been able to get away before this attack had solidified, but the plan to stay put had seemed reasonable at the time they made it. The reconnaissance she and Throndar had just completed worried her.

She slid into the skylight and shut it behind her, even as it became studded with a hand of bolts firing at where she no longer was. One of Throndar's foot soldiers was standing by with a piece of wood and some nails to board up the weak point. The two leaders left him to his hammering.

"The fighting has surrounded us," the elf remarked as they trotted down the steep stairs and into the courtyard, now deserted, that Telfaren had ridden into scant hours before.

Throndar looked grim. "Aye, and the main force looks to be attacking the citadel. They must have had inside help to breach the city gates so quickly." The old soldier spat into a pile of straw. "I hate civil conflict; you can never tell friend from foe."

Minuial swallowed the remark about men and treachery that wanted to escape just then; somehow the timing seemed inappropriate.

The two warriors trotted quickly across the open space and entered the main house, nodding to the various members of Throndar's picked troops who were stationed at doors and windows. They entered the kitchen, which had seemed the most defensible place in the building, and became the instant centre of attention.

"We cannot leave, my Lady." Minuial cut to the chase, standing in front of Arwen who was sitting to one side of the large kitchen hearth.

Gleowyn handed Throndar a mug and offered one to the elf. Minuial took a second to sniff its contents – broth- and take a sip. Then continued, "For some reason it appears this building is a target for the rebels."

"The main force has moved closer to Meduseld. We could hear fighting," Throndar cut in,” but it is as my Lady states, we are besieged here." The old commander smiled slightly at his Queen. "It was a quite small force; I suspect they are surprised by our level of resistance. But while we were out
there," he waved up at the roof," we could hear reinforcements arriving."

Gleowyn sat herself down beside her husband at the big worktable. The young couple shared a look of woe, and then, as a pair, looked to their son who was sleeping in a day-cradle at their feet.

"It will be Frecern." Gleowyn would not raise her eyes, "I am so sorry, it is all my fault. He has never forgiven me. He has been boasting of the revolution to come for so long that we all stopped taking him at all seriously. He threatened Telfaren, only last month but we ignored it as the bile of a bitter man. If we had only..."

Arwen got up and moved over to the young mother, she placed a hand on Gleowyn's shoulder.

"Even if we knew all things, many things would still be out of our control." She patted Gleowyn gently and the young woman turned a tear-brightened eye to her patron. "I think my presence was not part of any plan of this man,
and hopefully it will raise the stakes so high he will reconsider any insult to our person. For now we will rely on our loyal troops and try to be as easy as we may in your charming home." She turned her gaze back to that of her elven friend. "Minuial, this conflict is most certainly none of yours. Would you let me presume on our friendship?" The elf-warrior shifted her weight and held her silence, knowing she would not like whatever it was that Arwen had in mind.

"It would be a matter of ease for you to evade these humans, especially if you leave in the small hours of the night and take ways only the elves would consider roads." Minuial nodded, cautiously.

"Please, my friend, would you go then tonight, and tell our tale to your liege as he takes his ease in the forests of Starkhorn? I would beg that in his generosity he could perhaps spare a messenger to alert my husband of the vile treachery that has taken place here."

Minuial looked at the Queen standing so fearless and regal in front of her and thought to herself that if Thranduil showed even the slightest reluctance he would find himself bereft of a march warden. She showed none of that on her face however, simply nodding, then bowing and stepping back out of the spotlight of the Queen of Gondor's regard. Arwen turned her attention back to Gleowyn and her family.

"You see, my dear. All will be made well. Even my father was in awe of the King of Lasgalen."

Gleowyn smiled, but found in her heart an anger growing that had little to do with any but the vicious thug she had once loved.

"Then we will look to our defences, my Lady, and take any help we can get."

TBC

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Rose Sared