Chapter Five

Legolas didn’t know how long he stood motionless, wrapping all of his senses around the mountain as far as they would stretch. The howls continued, though they were now beginning to gradually fade into oblivion until there was only the sound of the wind to keep the elf’s senses occupied. He saw nothing moving and was not toounhappy over that fact.

All the many years of using a bow had built up extra strength in his arms and shoulders, and he could hold a bowstring at full draw for many moments without making the tiniest of movements. Yet even the strength of an elven archer could not hold that position indefinitely.

When none of Legolas’s strained senses could pick up any more evidence of the howlers or any other beings, the elf relaxed slightly. He did not lower his bow, but he did loosen the pull of the string to less than half way.

Legolas once again wondered why the howlers only seemed to come out and display their haunting tones to him and not to any of his friends. The thought that it was planned that way did not occur to him until moments later, when he finally released all the tension in his bowstring.

Staring upward onto the shadowed mountain, the archer shook his head. It had to be a coincidence. Why would he be singled out? He had never been anywhere near Orod Moru before. He was also not the only elf here, so just being one of the Firstborn could not be the reason. Shaking his head yet again, he turned back toward his friends, none of whom had apparently moved a muscle during the whole incident.

The elf once more placed himself between his sleeping companions and the trail to wait out the remainder of his watch. This time he held his bow upright in front of him with his left hand while he kept his right hand loose and ready to pull an arrow from his quiver at the first sign of trouble.

Nothing else happened on the elf’s watch, yet his attention never wavered.

~*~*~

Within seconds of each other, both Elladan and Elrohir stirred and then woke to the dawning light of a new day. Elladan reached over and poked Aragorn in the side to rouse the sleeping ranger, eliciting a pained groan from the man and a laugh from his twin.

All three were soon on their feet, shaking, folding and then repacking their blankets.

Aragorn stepped up beside Legolas, still standing where he had been at the entrance to the shelter. He had already taken care of the elf‘s blanket for him. “Anything?” he asked, as he scanned the slopes above him.

“More howlers about an hour ago.”

At those words, the twins joined them. “Why do they only entertain you?” Elrohir asked. He almost sounded hurt.

Legolas gave him a curious look. “I have no idea. I think perhaps they want to confound you, Elrohir.”

“Well they are doing a very good job of it.”

Aragorn couldn’t help grinning at the exchange, but in truth, he was as confused as Elrohir. Glancing at his friend, he said, “Was there anything different this time?”

“I saw a shadow move across the trail,” Legolas said matter-of-factly.

“A shadow?” Aragorn declared. “And just when were you going to tell us about that?”

“I am telling you now,” Legolas replied with a slight frown. He turned his head to regard the two dark-haired elves on his right. They were both looking at him in surprise.

Elladan seemed to recover first and asked, “What kind of shadow?” He knew Legolas would not have mentioned the shadow, if it were not something out of the ordinary.

Legolas took a deep breath. “It crossed the trail just this side of those rocks there.” He inclined his head toward the large rocks on both sides of the trail that led up ahead of them. “It was so dark and the movement was so fast, I could not begin to tell you what it was or even what it looked like. I do know that it was not a howler. Or at least, it was not one doing any of the howling I had just heard. It was too close and the howling was too far away.”

“I don’t like the idea that anything potentially dangerous is that close to us,” Aragorn said, suppressing a shiver. “There are so many boulders around us that anything could be on us before we know it.”

“That is true of many mountain trails,” Elladan reminded his foster brother. “Orcs and wargs in the Misty Mountains, for example.”

“That’s true,” the ranger replied. “But we are not in the Misty Mountains. This mountain is something quite different and is home to who knows what.”

Legolas laughed. “You are the one who was so determined to come here, Estel. Do not tell me you are now having doubts.”

Aragorn scowled at the wood elf. “No, of course not. I just prefer to know my enemy.”

“Orcs or wargs these are not,” Legolas declared firmly. He didn’t mention that those two minions of the Dark Lord could well prove to be preferable to what these things might turn out to be.

Since further discussion without further knowledge was not going to bring any answers, they ate their morning meal and began the day’s trek upward.

~*~*~

By the time they had finished the mid-day meal and continued along the trail, the weather began to change---for the worse. They had all considered themselves lucky that the days and nights so far had been clear and only mildly cool. Now, however, the mountain was starting to show its gloomier side, the one that helped to promote its mysterious reputation.

Fog rolled in at the same time that clouds, forming rapidly overhead, moved lower and settled down to meet it, blanketing the slopes with an ominous swirling mass of white. Shrouded was one of the words that had always been used to describe Black Mountain, whenever it had been talked about in the past. The word was still accurate.

It didn’t help that a few moments later, the four companions reached the lower edge of the snowline. Soon white flakes began drifting downward, adding their presence to the mix.

The air and the ground that surrounded the friends was turned to white, as the ice crystals that fell on them combined with the clouds and the fog, dropping visibility to only a few feet. Even the elves had trouble seeing in this wild world of white.

As was to be expected, the temperature began to drop.

The four friends had to slow their pace, almost having to feel their way along the trail. It, too, seemed to be conspiring against them. It had all but disappeared, leaving only a small space between the jagged boulders beside them.

Suddenly, black dots appeared several yards ahead. It took a moment for the dots to begin taking form, although nothing in that whiteness could be considered recognizable as anything more than indistinct blobs.

The dark forms appeared on the ground and along the tops of the rocks. So many joined the group that it looked like one solid mass of darkness amidst the churning whiteness.

A single howl erupted, followed by another and then another. Almost instantly, the swirling wind was driving the sound in a relentless assault against the four companions, who each shuddered at the noise that assaulted them.

Elrohir, in front, stopped short, causing Aragorn to bump into him. The man jumped back in surprise and consequently lost his balance on some loose pebbles.

Legolas, right behind him, grabbed his arm and pulled hard to get the man back on his feet. In doing so, the elf, standing on a thin patch of ice, felt his feet begin to slide out from under him, as his body fell backwards.

Both Aragorn and Elladan tried to grab the Mirkwood prince. The ranger missed completely while Elladan, behind the archer, managed to get his fingers around a part of Legolas’s sleeve. Unfortunately, the cloth was pulled out of his desperate grasp, as the younger elf, now on his back, continued slipping away.

The dark figures and their howling were completely forgotten.

Elladan lunged forward, trying once again to grab Legolas, but the wood elf was soon lost to sight.

Elladan swung a stiff arm out to the side to stop both Elrohir’s and Aragorn‘s advance. Neither had seen the gap in the rocks that opened onto a sheer drop of hundreds of feet straight down. Their attention had been aimed down toward the ground where they had last seen Legolas. If it hadn’t been for Elladan’s effort, both would have disappeared over the edge the same way Legolas had just done.

Once the younger twin and the ranger had stopped moving, Elladan matched their horrified expressions. All three stood staring down into the swirling nothingness.

As they stared, the howls around them turned to screeches that might have passed for laughter. It was hard to tell, though right then, no one was paying any attention.

After breaking free from stunned silence, Aragorn desperately yelled out Legolas’s name. The elf’s name came back to him as a muffled echo. Then his elven name of Estel came to him clearly---and close.

The ranger dove onto his his stomach. “Legolas, is that you?” He knew the question sounded silly, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yes, Estel, it is me.” He couldn’t help but have a who-else-would-it-be tone to his voice.

The man’s head appeared over the edge of the rock ledge. He let out a very large sigh of relief and a groan of dismay at what he saw. The elf was hanging from the cliff wall several feet below the ledge. His fingers were wrapped around every little piece of protruding stone they were able to reach.

Elladan was soon on his stomach beside Aragorn, while Elrohir quickly rooted through his pack for a rope.

As Elladan‘s face came into view, he and Aragorn leaned far out over the ledge. Both began to slip. Elrohir grabbed each by an ankle and pulled them back. “This is not going to work,” he said sadly. “The edge is too slippery.”

Legolas frowned. “Do not risk any of your lives,” he admonished in a commanding voice. At that moment, he could have been mistaken for his formidable father.

The three anxious brothers knelt several feet from the ledge, each desperate to find a quick resolution before Legolas’s hold loosened and he fell.

Elrohir held the rope he had pulled from his pack ready for immediate use.

Only seconds passed, when Legolas’s voice, now obviously farther away, came up to them. “I have found the solution.”

Aragorn started to move toward the ledge, momentarily excited that his friend had apparently found a way to save himself. Elladan’s hand on his arm stopped the ranger from moving out onto the icy patch without thinking, so he simply raised his voice. “What have you found?”

“I looked through the mist and saw another ledge below the one you are on. I dropped down onto it.”

Aragorn and the twins looked at each other, and they all grinned. “Then we can throw you a rope, and pull you up to us.”

“No need,” came the Mirkwood prince’s voice. “This ledge leads somewhat parallel to your trail. Hopefully, the two will come together not too far ahead or they will come near enough to each other that you can use the rope to pull me up without the danger this current situation has presented.”

“It sounds logical, but I don’t like the idea of you going off alone, Legolas. Not with those howlers so close.” It was then that Aragorn remembered the indistinct figures they had seen and the howling that had accompanied them. He suddenly realized that the howling had stopped. All was now silent. “The howlers,” he said to his brothers. “Where did they go?”

Elladan and Elrohir looked up the trail, their keen eyes doing their best to penetrate the white mist. They saw nothing. The dark shadowy figures were not in evidence.

Aragorn shook his head. That did not bode well. Were they now on their way down to Legolas? Since he had been the only one to hear them before, was he their target? Were they even anything to fear at all? Perhaps the enemy they were expecting to find was something that had yet to make an appearance.

“I don’t like you on this mountain alone,” the ranger declared to his friend, repeating his earlier concern.

Legolas would have laughed had he not recognized the seriousness in the ranger’s tone. He could not make light of his friend’s genuine worry for his safety. He certainly did not take offense that right now the man might not be thinking of Legolas as a skilled warrior with a noteworthy reputation.

Aragorn had always trusted in the elf’s abilities, yet he had somehow never been able to shake the feeling that he should protect his friend. He supposed it had to do, in large part, with trying to prevent an immortal life from being destroyed. It was just something that they always did for each other.

This situation on this mountain intensified the protective feeling in the ranger. However, he recognized that there was nothing he could do about things as they now stood. “Be wary, Legolas. The howlers have disappeared up here, and I do not trust that they have left us to ourselves.”

“I will join you soon,” Legolas called up to reassure his friends. He did not tell them, Aragorn especially, that the ledge he stood on was barely wide enough to accommodate his lithe form. He took a deep breath. It was a good thing that he possessed incredible balance. He would need all of that inborn talent to negotiate his way to safety.

With another deep breath that he let out slowly, the elf began making his way along the ledge. He concentrated on the path ahead of him and momentarily pushed aside the creeping feeling, making its way up his spine, that he was not alone on this very narrow ledge.

Legolas's bow and quiver kept him from pushing his back firmly against the rock, so he was having to inch his way along on the balls of his fee while facing the cliff. The palms of his hands were out beside his head and moving over the rough stone.

The archer moved carefully, sometimes having to pick his way around outcroppings in the rock wall. Once he had to grab a handhold and swing out around the rock face until his right foot made contact with the path on the other side of the protrusion. It never bothered the elf to look down from great heights, although at present, the foggy mist hid the sheer drop that began just inches below his feet.

Suddenly a high-pitched chattering behind him made Legolas freeze in med-step. Turning his head to look back toward where he had just come from, the elf stared in utter disbelief at what greeted his eyes.

TBC