The first part of Legolas and Neldorín's journey was the safest. They kept to the Elf Path, and for the first few days of travel, they knew that Thranduil's border patrols were just out of sight guarding that road. They went slowly, gathering berries and edible plants as they traveled, for they wished to save the waybread for a time when food might not be found on the road. When they had traveled eight days, they came to the enchanted river. Unofficially, it was the practical border of Thranduil's realm; no Elves guarded the Path beyond.

Legolas and Neldorín urged their horses forward. The horses both jumped the river successfully and received pieces of carrot as a reward. The two Elves dismounted and led the horses a few paces beyond the river to what looked to be a promising campsite. As Legolas spread a blanket on the ground, Neldorín began to look around to see if the area near the campsite offered anything to eat. He paused in his foraging and looked back across the enchanted river.

"The border guards do not cross the river," he said. "We are well and truly away from home now."

"We will go much farther and see stranger things before this journey is finished," Legolas replied. "We will even cross the Misty Mountains. They are real mountains like Erebor, not hills like the Mountains of Mirkwood."

"How will we get across them?" Neldorín asked. "Do you know how to climb a mountain like that?"

"No. I suppose that we will learn." Legolas turned away so that Neldorín could not see what he was doing and picked up a fallen acorn. He clutched it in one fist and presented both fists to Neldorín. "Choose."

Neldorín chose Legolas's right hand. Legolas opened it, and it was empty. He opened his left hand and tossed the acorn aside. "The first watch of the night is mine, then," he said. "Have you found anything good to eat?"

"Mushrooms and blackberries," Neldorín said. "And there are dandelions growing at the edge of the path as well. Their leaves will be bitter, though. And there are ferns growing by the riverbank."

Legolas contemplated the enchanted river. "I do not think we should eat anything that grows in the river's mud," he said. "We can make a salad of the mushrooms and berries and dandelion leaves. The berries will be sweet, and that will lessen the harshness of the leaves."

Neldorín laughed. "You sound like Galion planning a feast!"

"I spent enough time in the kitchens with him when I was little. I did learn something from him after all."

"Very well, my Lord Cook," Neldorín said. "You may prepare our evening meal. I will see to the horses."

Two days later, the two Elves stood at the edge of the forest and peered out across the open, shallow river valley. They could see the Greylin sparkling in the distance, and beyond that the bluish shadow of the Misty Mountains just on the horizon. "We will make for the river," Legolas said. "We should reach it by the day after tomorrow. That seems a simple thing." Neither Elf moved.

"Where will we sleep?" Neldorín wondered. "There are no trees to shelter us. The land between here and the river is all scrub."

"There will be trees by the river," Legolas said, trying to sound more certain than he felt. "It will be like the area near Lake Town, and we have both slept in the open there."

"But we will not reach the river until two days from now. It is that gap that worries me. There is nothing between us and the river to shield us from unfriendly eyes."

Legolas gazed out at the open country. "There are shrubs," he offered. "And the grass is long. I think that there must be animals who find shelter in that. We must do the same. And one of us will remain awake as guard in any event. I do not think that anything will harm us."

Neldorín looked sadly up at the tree next to him. "It will be different, at any rate."

Mindful of Luindil's instructions, the two Elves waited until nightfall, then emerged from the security of the forest into the exposed grassland of the river valley. The sky seemed enormous above them, filled with brilliant stars. After the initial shock of exposure, Legolas decided that there was something beautiful about the valley. The grass was long and soft, and it rippled in the little breezes that swept through.

"This is a country where our horses can run," he said. "What do you say to a good gallop?"

"It will get us across the plain and into the shelter of the river faster," Neldorín said. He leaned forward and clucked to his horse, and Legolas did the same. The horses needed no second urging to stretch their legs, and the two Elves rode swiftly across the plain under the sparkling sky.

As Legolas had guessed, the banks of the Greylin were lined with trees, and both he and Neldorín were glad to see them. They rested along the banks of the river, allowing their horses to graze. For themselves, they set fishing lines in the river and sat back to consider the rest of their journey.

"We have completed the first leg," Neldorín said. "What lies ahead now?"

"The river will guide us south to the Old Ford," Legolas replied. "We can sleep along its shores in the shelter of the trees, so that is good. And we will pass through the land of the Beornings."

"Men who can take the shapes of bears," Neldorín said. "I think that I should like to have another look at one, but I do not know if I am brave enough. I remember seeing Beorn their chief at the Battle of Five Armies, and he was terrifying in his wrath."

"Perhaps some of the terror came from the battle, and not from Beorn himself," Legolas suggested. "And in any event, there is no battle now, so any Beornings we see will not be nearly as fierce as that."

"I hope you are right. I have no wish to see an angry Bear-Man ever again. I think you have a bite on your line! Pull it in, for I am hungry."

The trip south along the river proved uneventful. Legolas and Neldorín were able to catch a fish almost every night, and thus spared their precious cakes of waybread. Neither Elf knew how long it would take to cross the Misty Mountains, but they suspected that the crossing would sorely deplete their food supplies. Legolas wondered if they should attempt to collect and save a supply of nuts and berries for the mountains, but Neldorín pointed out that they had no means of carrying the food any considerable distance.

In four days, they reached the Old Ford. It seemed that there had been a bridge in that place long ago. Stones that looked as though they might once have been cobbles littered the ground on either side of the ford and connected it to a well-worn road that ran towards Mirkwood.

"Do you see?" Legolas asked. "This is the Old Forest Road. It will lead us directly to Imladris."

Neldorín glanced towards the mountains, which loomed larger on the horizon, and smirked. "Directly to Imladris indeed, my Lord. A fine, beautiful, well-trodden road, with but the smallest of obstacles on it between us and our goal."

Legolas laughed. "That is the last time I will ever attempt to raise your spirits, Neldorín. Come. Let us cross the river. Every step we take now brings us closer to your smallest of obstacles and the House that lies beyond it."

As they neared the foothills of the mountain range, the terrain grew rougher. They did not cover as much ground in a day as they had while traveling along the river, and it took them four days before they came to the base of the first mountain. The sight of the range filled both Elves with dismay. The Misty Mountains were dizzyingly high, and seemed to stretch forever from the north to the south. Narrow, rocky trails wound up through the scrubby trees at what seemed an impossible angle.

"How will we ever cross?" Legolas breathed.

"I suppose that we should follow the trail," Neldorín offered. "Luindil did say that this was the High Pass, after all. I suppose that this is the easiest way we will find."

Legolas grimaced. "I would hate to see a difficult path, then. But it cannot be helped. We must cross the mountains." He urged his horse forward, and Neldorín followed.

They soon discovered that the horses could not negotiate the steep trail while bearing riders, so they dismounted and walked, leading their mounts. The going was slow and wearying. "At this rate, it will take us many days to cross," Legolas said. "The waybread is the only food we have left. We should eat of it only sparingly, for I do not know how long we will need to make it last."

Even as the words left his mouth, the air was filled with horrible shrieks. Legolas and Neldorín whirled around and saw Orcs boiling out of a cave higher up on the mountain. The Elves drew their weapons. Legolas's horse reared up in terror, lost its footing on the narrow trail, and tumbled down the hill. It screamed, a terrible sound that chilled Legolas's blood, but there was no time to mourn the animal, for the Orcs were bearing down hard upon them. The ground rumbled with their pounding footsteps.

"Can you shoot them?" Neldorín cried.

"I cannot aim," Legolas said. "They are so near that the ground shakes."

"They are not that near," Neldorín said. "Something else shakes the ground."

There was a screech from the Orc horde above them. Legolas tried vainly to find a fixed target, and cried out as he saw the first rocks rolling down the slope. Within seconds, it seemed that the entire side of the mountain was moving. "Run!" he called to Neldorín.

There was no time even for that. As the Elves turned to run, the ground swelled beneath their feet and they were falling out of control as the boulders crashed around them. Choking dust filled the air, and Legolas lost sight of both Neldorín and the Orcs. He managed to curl his arms around his head and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that the terrifying fall would be over soon.

At last, he slid to a halt. Around him, there was silence. Cautiously, Legolas opened his eyes and blinked back a wave of nausea and dizziness. His shoulder ached, and he feared that his arrow wound had been torn open again. Slowly, he turned onto his stomach and raised his head to look around. The broken bodies of Orcs lay all around him, and he could see the body of his horse lying not far away. A soft grunt and a string of weak cursing commanded Legolas's attention, and he pulled himself to his hands and knees and crawled over the debris to find Neldorín lying in a pile of scree, his right leg bent at an impossible angle.

"Legolas," Neldorín said raggedly. "I am glad to see you. Are you all right?"

"I hurt, but I will be fine. Your leg -- "

"It is broken," Neldorín gasped. "And there is something wrong with my ribs. I cannot sit up." Legolas ran his hands along Neldorín's sides as gently as he could, but Neldorín could not suppress a cry of pain.

"I think they are not broken," Legolas said, "but I am not certain of that. Even if they are whole, they are still bruised."

"You must help me to rise. We must move away from here before the surviving Orcs realize that we have not been killed by the rockslide."

Legolas sat back on his heels and looked around for any sign of their packs. "There is no place to go," he said. "The only shelter here is in the caves higher up the mountains, and even if you were in any shape to be moved there, they are infested with Orcs."

"We cannot stay here," Neldorín said, then bit his lip. A little blood trickled down his chin. Legolas tried to brush it away with his hand.

"You are injured enough. There is no need to shed any more of your blood." He began looking around and found Neldorín's bow, which had snapped in half. Gently, he moved Neldorín's broken leg into a more comfortable position. "I am no healer," he said. "I do not know how to set a bone. I will splint this for you." He looked around for material to tie the splint, and Neldorín pointed to his pack.

"I have an extra shirt," he said. Then he stiffened. "Look out!"

Legolas whirled around and saw three Orcs scrambling over the debris. He moved to place his body between Neldorín and the Orcs, and he drew his knife. Before he could strike, he heard a roaring sound. A great black bear charged up the hillside and batted two Orcs away with its great claws. It bit the third in the neck and shook it around as though it were a squirrel. The Orc's neck snapped, and the bear dropped it. It turned and focused its little eyes on the Elves. Legolas readied his knife to throw it, for he knew that he would have no chance if the bear decided to charge.

But the bear remained where it was. And then, before Legolas's astonished eyes, its shape began to blur and flow, and suddenly it had become an enormous hairy Man, dressed in a rough tunic of wool.

"You are Beorn," Legolas said slowly.

"No," the Man said. "Beorn was my father, but he is dead. Grimbeorn is my name. And you are Wood-elves, by the look of you, though you are very far from your forest."

"We are on our way over the mountains to deliver a message to Mithrandir." Legolas was struck by a sudden inspiration. "Have you seen him lately? Do you know where he is?"

"The wizard?" Grimbeorn laughed. "I have not seen him for several years, little one. Perhaps you will deliver my greetings to him if you do find him. But I do not think that is likely. Your companion lies helpless beside you." He smiled, showing a mouthful of extraordinarily white teeth, and took a step closer. Legolas raised his knife.

"You will not hurt him."

Grimbeorn stopped and inclined his head. "I see that you have heard all about the fierce Beornings," he said. "I admit that my father had no especial love for the Wood-elves who hunted in the forest. But I am not my father. I like Wood-elves much as I like the foxes who also hunt in the woods. You and your companion should come with me, for you are both wounded, and there is no other shelter."

Legolas lowered his knife. "What will you do?"

"I will feed you and care for your companion as best I can. When he is healthy, I will call one of my horses to take him where he wishes. You may stay until he is healed, if you wish."

Legolas knelt down by Neldorín's side. "I do not like the thought of us becoming separated here."

"I would never be able to cross the mountain," Neldorín said. "I will be well enough with Grimbeorn. He is right; there is no other shelter. You must go on. The message must reach Mithrandir."

Legolas nodded and turned to Grimbeorn. "I accept your offer," he said, "though I will not be able to stay so long. I must deliver my message."

"Well then," Grimbeorn said. "Let us go about doing what must be done. He whistled, and Neldorín's horse appeared, limping a little, accompanied by a strange horse. Grimbeorn knelt down beside Neldorín. "What is your name?"

"Neldorín. And my suspicious friend is Legolas."

Grimbeorn laughed his great rolling laugh. "You are certainly a polite Elf, Master Neldorín!" he said. "But these are perilous times, and I will forgive Legolas his suspicions. Instead, I will send him to recover as many of your belongings as he can find while I tend to this broken leg of yours. Do not fear," he added, when he saw Neldorín's dubious expression. "I have tended the broken legs of many a forest creature. An Elf will not be so different. Now, relax. This will be painful, but brief."

Grimbeorn carried Neldorín on his horse back across the valley to the river. Legolas followed, riding Neldorín's horse, for though he was distressed at the loss of so many days, he wished to see for himself that Neldorín would be safe before continuing on his journey. When they reached the great hall where Grimbeorn lived with his serving animals, Legolas allowed himself one night of rest.

Grimbeorn examined the supplies salvaged from the Elves' packs. Though filthy, their clothing was mostly unharmed, and one of the dogs drew water so that Legolas could wash out the spare shirts. The cakes of waybread had been crushed, however. Legolas bit back a cry of despair, but Grimbeorn shrugged.

"I will give you food enough for the rest of your journey," he said. "It is not far, and you are but one mouth to feed. And, for all that they are not the most interesting thing one could eat, my cakes will give you the strength you need." Legolas opened his mouth to protest, but Grimbeorn silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"Do not deny that you are in need," he said. "I have carried your companion before me for several days, and though I do not know much about Wood-elves, I do not think that their ribs ought to be quite as prominent as all that. I am a friend to the creatures of the woods, and I help them where I may. If you are worried about accepting a gift, you may carry a message to Mithrandir for me. Give him my greetings and tell him of the Orcs that now infest the Mountains. My people will return to the mountains one day, but I begin to understand that we may not be able to do so without the aid of our wizard friend."

Legolas nodded. "I will add your message to that of my King," he said, "and I thank you for your aid."

"There is a bed for you in the corner of the Hall," Grimbeorn said. "Go to sleep now, for you are hurt and exhausted. I will care for your companion, and when he is able to ride on his own, I will send him back to your King, and he will be my messenger of greeting."

Legolas bade Neldorín farewell and set out alone the next morning. He carried his own weapons, but rode Neldorín's horse. His clothes were clean in the bottom of his pack, and the top was filled with cakes. His heart was heavy as he crossed the Old Ford a second time and traveled back to the foothills of the Misty Mountains. The debris from the rockslide made it difficult to locate the trail, but it seemed that the Orcs had been frightened off by that event. Legolas managed to lead his horse around the fallen rocks and into the mountains without incident.

Crossing the Misty Mountains was the last stage of Legolas's journey, but it seemed to him the longest and the most difficult. For many nightmarish days, he wandered on foot through a jagged landscape of increasingly barren rock, leading the horse. The nights at the higher elevation were chill, and he huddled close to the horse for warmth. Since he had no companion to stand guard, he spent many nights awake, peering into the gloom for any sign of the Orcs whose presence he could smell every day, fighting off the sleep that his exhausted body craved. His head began to ache again, and there were times when he could hardly walk through the dizziness. He ate sparingly, and as Grimbeorn had promised, the cakes were just enough to give him strength to make the crossing.

Legolas was overjoyed when he reached the top of the mountains. Far below him, he could finally see a beautiful green valley that could only be Imladris. The knowledge that his destination was real and that it was at last in sight cheered his heart as he began the treacherous descent. He focused his last remaining strength and will on simply reaching the valley, and carefully did not think about how he would ever make the return journey.