Aragorn walked the length of the army lines assessing his troop’s strengths and weaknesses.  The hastily assembled band was larger than he had first supposed and many more men from Lake Town had arrived during the night bearing all type of arms and armor as well as anything else that could be used as a weapon—pitchforks, scythes, even hammers from their smiths.  The mounted Grey Elven archers from Lasgalen were over one hundred strong and the Woodland Elves added another fifty or so bowmen to the Elven contingent.  All in all, it was a strong advance party and should have little trouble clearing a path for the others who were hopefully on their way to join them at Gundabad.

          When he saw Legolas approaching, he moved away from the mustering troops and walked forward to meet the Elf.  He gazed up at the empty grey skies and then back down to the prince.

          “I do not see the dragon,” he commented.

          “I cannot just whistle for it,” the Elf tersely remarked.

          The Elf’s words and exasperated expression forced a snorting laugh from the ranger.  “No, I don’t suppose you can.”  He gestured toward the warriors who were already geared up and set to deploy.  “We are almost ready to move out.  Will you ride with us?”

          Legolas shook his head.  “The dragon is approaching.  I can see it hovering above the mountain peaks.”  He glanced at the large number of warriors and horses milling about.  “The horses will be skittish.  You should keep them back until the dragon and I have departed.”

          Aragorn nodded.  “Where will we meet you?” he asked.

          “I will find you,” the Elf replied.  He clasped Strider’s shoulders in a gesture of farewell and grinned at the ranger.  “Try not to get lost.”

          Aragorn chuckled and took a playful swipe at the Elf’s head, but as Legolas turned to leave, he stayed his arm.  “Be careful, mellon nin.”

          Legolas nodded and drew his arm across his chest, bowing slightly, his gaze never leaving the human’s face.  “And you.”

          The panicked neighing of the horses announced the dragon’s arrival and Legolas trotted out onto the open plains to meet the beast.  It landed upon the scorched grasslands with a ponderous thud and settled itself onto the ground as the Elf came near.  Aragorn watched anxiously as the prince and the firebreather spoke and then the Elf scrambled nimbly up her wing and onto her broad back.

          He really does act like riding that beast is something he’s done for centuries, Strider thought as he observed Legolas settle himself into a comfortable position atop the dragon’s shoulders and then Elf and dragon were airborne and winging away toward the north.

          Strider watched his friend fly off through the skies until he could no longer distinguish the dragon’s mass from that of the mountain peaks and then moved to his awaiting horse and swiftly mounted.  Raising his arm into the air, he brought it forward and down.

          “Let move out,” he shouted to his ragtag army.  The gathered alliance of Elves and men started out from the ravaged Mirkwood forests and began their march toward Gundabad.  

//////////////////////   

          By day’s end the forces from Mirkwood and Lake Town had crossed the plains and reached the pass between the Misty Mountains and the Ered Mithrin.  There had been no sign of Legolas or the dragon since dawn and Aragorn was more than a little concerned.  As the army began to set up camp for the night, he sought out Gandalf and drew the wizard away from the main body of soldiers to talk privately with the ancient Istari.

          “I am worried about Legolas,” he began.  “There has been no sighting of him since we parted this morning.”

          Mithrandir gazed up at the mountain peaks and sighed.  “We shall have to trust that he is well, Strider.”  He patted the human’s back affectionately.  “Legolas is not some naïve Elfling,” he chuckled.  “I’m sure he will be fine.”

          “You’re right, of course,” Strider grudgingly admitted.  “It’s just that I have this uneasy feeling that something has happened to him.”  He looked up at the wizard sheepishly.  “Or will happen to him.”  He shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile.  “I guess I’m just being foolish.”

          “Not at all, my boy,” the seer answered.  “You thought him dead only a few short days ago.  It is only natural that you would fear for his safety.”  He guided the young ranger back toward the main campsite.  “Come.  Let’s get some food and rest.  I’m sure Legolas will appear when he has something of value to report to you.”

          Aragorn nodded in resignation and walked back alongside Gandalf toward the rows of tents that now lined the mountain foothills.  As they neared the cook fires, Tharel approached with several other men in tow.

          “Strider, we have the first watch in place and sentries posted at the camp’s outskirts.  Do you have any further orders for me?”

          “No, see to your men, Tharel, and get some rest yourself.  We’ll head out again at dawn,” the ranger replied.

          The Lake Town warrior nodded curtly.  “Very good.  I’ll tell the others.”

          After the men departed, Gandalf was about to suggest that Strider sample some new pipe weed the wizard had recently procured when the golden head of Legolas appeared bobbing up and down among the rocky outcroppings of the Hithaeglir just beyond their encampment.   The Elf was swiftly jogging toward their camp, easily threading his way through the boulders and down the rock slope toward the tents.    

          “It seems your fears for Legolas were unfounded,” Gandalf stated as he gestured toward the foothills beyond the outer reaches of the camp.  “Here he comes now.”

          Aragorn quickly turned toward the hills and saw the Wood Elf trotting lightly toward the base of the mountain.  As he came up to the ranger and wizard, Strider could see from his troubled expression that he did indeed have information to relate.

          “You’ve seen something?” he asked.

          Legolas nodded.  “Yes.  The mountain passes ahead of you are covered with concealed ridges and deep caves.  They are teaming with orc and goblin warriors and I have seen several uruk-hai among them.  I counted hundreds of them swarming around and about the cliffs no more than a day’s march from here.  Naurnyar is confident she can dispatch these yrch with little trouble, but be on your guard, Strider.  Once their scouts bring word to Gundabad that the dragon is attacking, your element of stealth and surprise will be lost and we can expect Udûn to send out his armies in droves.”

          Aragorn nodded, digesting this information and forming alternative battle strategies within his mind.   “Also, as we draw closer to Gundabad the trails narrow down to bare boot paths.  By the end of tomorrow’s trek, we will be forced to dismount and lead our horses through the gorge.  We must get through that canyon by daylight while the orc hordes are within their caves.”

          “I will attempt to persuade Naurnyar to fly over the Misty Mountains tomorrow and determine if there are indeed any armies coming from Rivendell and the Ranger Encampments.  If they are sighted, I will return and let you know their numbers and how long it will be before they arrive.  We can then coordinate the convergence of these forces before we reach Gundabad,” Legolas stated.

          “Let us hope they will be forthcoming with troops,” said the wizard.  “I know how ministers and affairs of state can delay decision-making.  I feel sure there will be no shortage of Rangers willing to fight, but Lord Elrond will have a difficult time convincing his Council that this battle is necessary.”

          The three were silent for a space and then Aragorn glanced about uneasily.  “Where is the dragon?” he asked.

          Legolas pointed toward one of the peaks above their camp.  “It has settled in for the night upon those mountain tors.  I will climb up to meet her in the morning.”  He smiled at the ranger.  “Do not worry, Strider.  We are safe here.”  His smile faded as he continued.  “Although, I must say Naurnyar is getting somewhat irksome.  She believes the young ones have hatched by now and is most anxious to get to Gundabad.”

          Aragorn was not pleased with this news.  “Can you manage her?”

          The Wood Elf shrugged.  “I cannot say.”

          Gandalf herded both of them toward the cooking fires.  “Time enough for talk later,” he smiled.  “Let’s eat and take our rest for the remainder of this evening.”

          Strider looked as if he had a great deal more he would like to discuss with the Elf, but deferred to the wizard and followed him toward the warming fires of the mess tent.  “Very well, Gandalf, we will eat first,” he said.  “But we still have much to go over tonight.”

          “Certainly, certainly, my boy,” the wizard replied but his interest had already shifted from battle strategies to food and he eagerly joined the men and Elves seated about the various cook fires.

          “Well, I suppose we must wait upon Gandalf’s stomach before we can continue our discussion,” Strider laughed.  “He’s developed a Hobbit’s appetite.”

          Legolas nodded in understanding and the two friends moved forward to join the company of the soldiers lining up to get their evening meal.  

//////////////////////

          “We will have to determine how to get those people out of Gundabad without injury,” Aragorn was saying as he steadfastly paced from one end of the small tent to the other.  Legolas and Gandalf watched the ranger move back and forth until the Elf finally stuck his leg out in front of the human, blocking his well-trodden path.

          “Enough, Strider,” he smiled slightly.  “We will get them out somehow.  I will have more information tomorrow after the dragon and I travel to the western slopes of the Misty Mountains.  Once the armies join outside the stronghold, we will have the benefit of your father’s wisdom to guide us, or Glorfindel’s at the very least.”

          Aragorn reluctantly sat, his elbows resting upon his knees and placed his head in his hands.  “You are right, my friend,” he replied as he rubbed his aching temples.  “I just feel that I abandoned those people to their woeful fate.  I should have done something.”

          “And what would you have done?” asked Legolas.  “You would have needlessly endangered your life and become enslaved as well.”  He placed a strong hand upon the ranger’s shoulder.  “You cannot take blame for something you cannot control.”

          Strider stood up, and would have started pacing again, but one look from Legolas halted him.  “I know, I know,” he agreed.  “I just…”

          The Mirkwood prince smiled slightly and knowingly looked upon his dedicated friend with an expression of unswerving reassurance and genuine compassion.  “You are a king who is concerned for his people,” he said quietly.  “It matters not that you do not wear a crown.  It is who you are, Aragorn.”

          Strider stared at the Woodland Elf and they silently shared an unvoiced commitment, one to the other, that neither would sever save in death.  Gandalf smiled fondly at the two warriors and then wearily arose from his seat.  It would be a very long and hard road they would travel together, but one that would eventually lead them both to their destinies.

          “I think we all need some rest,” the wizard commented.  “The days ahead will be hard enough.”  

/////////////////////////////

          Another day of their journey had come and gone but Aragorn could not find sleep and now restless and on edge, he stood alone a short distance apart from his tent and the army encampment.  He gazed up at the darkened night skies, looking, searching, yet seeing nothing but the blackness of the mountains and the few stars visible above the peaks.  He silently fought the panic rising within his heart, threatening to spill over if he gave in to it and he knew that he could not.

          His band of warriors had traveled with speed and they were now well into the passes and valleys much closer to Gundabad and the western passage through the Misty Mountains.   They were nearing that region of the cliffs where the ridges would prove dangerous and they would be exposed and without cover as they journeyed through the narrow gorges.    It was in this area that Legolas had seen the heavy orc movements and had warned him that resistance would in all probability be strong.  This night would be the last they spent in relative safety.

          He scanned the skies once more and found nothing but stars and a few scattered clouds on high and his anxiety increased.  It was growing past the midnight hour and none but the sentries were awake and positioned around the camp perimeters.  Legolas and the dragon had not returned.