Natha Daged Dhaer _ Ch2

Chapter 2: The Road To The Forests </u>

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~[ ]~ - indicated the translation of the Elvish words into English.

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      Long did the company travel that day, making their trek nearly to the foot of the Misty Mountains. On and on they ran, like they had before when their friends Merry and Pippin had been in grave danger. Back then, they had been forced to stop for darkness or to track the footsteps of the Orcs. Now, nothing save for the harsh terrain could slow them down. By nightfall, they set up camp at the foot of the mountains.
      "It will be a long journey tomorrow, Gimli." Legolas said as he sat down next to the Dwarf, "We must all have our rest, but I am not yet tired so I shall take the first watch."
      Aragorn looked across the fire to his friend, "What troubles you so, Legolas?"
      "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind since we reached the foot of the mountains. I am worried for my people, that some tragedy has befallen them."
      "Do not trouble yourself so. We will see when we reach the Elven King's Halls. As for now, you may take the first watch as you wish. Blend the worlds of wake and dream while you watch. I trust your senses even in that state. We must all be well rested for the trek ahead."
      Gimli nodded, "Yes, very perilous are these mountains. But a safe way we know. So, I shall sleep well tonight."
      After a few more words, both Aragorn and Gimli fell into sleep. Legolas sat, keeping watch for a few hours. After him came Gimli and then Aragorn, until the sun's first light was upon them.

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      The path through the mountains was a most dangerous one. This they could not run at full pace, as they had done before. The three companions were swift on their feet but not so when climbing. It took nearly three days to pass through the mountains and even then, they had little rest. Soon however, they could see the Great River of Wilderland and beyond that, the edge of the forests of Mirkwood.
      "It is good to see my homeland again." said Legolas with a smile, "Come, we are no more than a few days away now!"
      With that, the Elf bounded down the hillside which stood between the mountains and the river.
      "Legolas!" Aragorn called after him, "We do not have the stamina of the Elf. You will have to forgive our slow pace and need of rest." for now, even Aragorn was worn out.

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      The companions rested once more, eating little and talking much. Legolas was more excited than Aragorn had seen him since the meeting of the Ents of Fangorn. He talked much of his home, his family, and his people. And, every so often, he would begin to sing one of the ancient songs of his homeland.

      “An Elven-maid there was of old,
      A shining star by day:
      Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
      Her shoes of silver-grey.

      A star was bound upon her brows,
      A light was on her hair.
      As sun upon the golden boughs,
      In Lorien the fair.

      Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
      And fair she was and free;
      And in the wind she went as light,
      As leaf of linden-tree.

      Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
      By water clear and cool,
      Her voice as falling silver fell,
      Into the shining pool.

      Where now she wanders none can tell,
      In sunlight or in shade;
      For lost of yore was Nimrodel.
      And in the mountains strayed.

      The elven-ship in haven grey,
      Beneath the mountain-lee,
      Awaited her for many a day,
      Beside the roaring sea.

      A wind by night in Northern lands,
      Arose, and loud it cried,
      And drove the ship from elven-strands,
      Across the streaming tide.

      When dawn came dim the land was lost,
      The mountains sinking grey.
      Beyond the heaving waves that tossed,
      Their plumes of blind spray.

      Amroth beheld the fading shore,
      Now low beyond the swell,
      And cursed the faithless ship that bore,
      Him far from Nimrodel.

      Of old he was an Elven-king.
      A lord of tree and glen,
      When golden were the boughs in spring,
      In fair Lothlorien.

      From helm to sea they saw him leap,
      As arrow from the strong;
      And dive into the water deep,
      As mew upon the wing.

      The wind was in his flowing hair,
      The foam about him shone;
      Afar they saw him strong and fair,
      Go riding like a swan.

      But from the West has come no word,
      And on the Hither Shore,
      No tidings Elven-folk have heard,
      Of Amroth evermore.”

      "You sang that song before, Legolas. On our way to Lothlorien. Did you not?" Aragorn asked as he took another puff of his pipe.
      Legolas smiled, "I did. For I wished to see the greatness of Lothlorien and I now have, It will be a tale which my younger sister will like very much."
      "You have a sister?" Gimli asked, looking up from the fire.
      "Indeed I do." he nodded, "Her name is Legolia and in Elven years she is nearing her seven hundredth year."
      "And then, how old would she appear to the eyes of mortal man?" Aragorn asked with a raised eyebrow.
      "I would venture at about four or five, nothing more than a child. She will hardly be able to contain her joy over such a tale as she shall hear from me of our adventures throughout Middle-Earth."
      Aragorn smiled, "Long has it been since I have walking in the paths of Mirkwood, mellon nin. I wish you great joy in returning home." ~[...my friend.]~
      "As do I." added Gimli.
      With a small bow of his head, the Elf thanked them both.
      Before long, the watch was set and turns were taken. Morning drew near and the company began their long journey once more.

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      They crossed the Great River of Wilderland, making for the Forest Gate. By nightfall, they could clearly see the forest's edge.
      "We should take the Elf Path through the forest, it will be less perilous I think." Aragorn said as they stood looking into the forest.
      Legolas nodded, "And less hard to get lost as well. This path is well known to both me and my people and it is never used by any foul creatures, unless they wish to walk to their doom."
      Gimli hefted his axe higher up on his shoulder, "I say let them come to their doom. I would welcome such a fight."
      "But it would slow us down, Gimli, and that could be an ill occurrence for the people of this woodland realm." Aragorn put in.
      And so, they continued on at their full pace.

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      That evening they set up camp at the edge of the Enchanted River. There was much talk around the fire that night. But Legolas said little. He had returned to the land of his birth and would be welcomed by many, but there were some who would have preferred that he stay away. Some of his kin did not take kindly to the time when he declared himself a Silven Elf and not one of the Sindarin of old. They were still very cross at him for that. His own father may still be cross as well, though Legolas hoped that all had been forgiven. Others, he knew, would not approve of his friendship with Gimli, son of Gloin. Through, Legolas knew his father, Thranduil, would recall the name of Gloin from earlier days, this did not guarantee Gimli a warm welcome.
      "Speak your thoughts, Master Elf." Gimli said.
      Legolas smiled at him, "I was wondering how you, my good Dwarf, would be received in the Elven King's Halls."
      "Hopefully with more kindness than Haldir showed me in Lorien." he answered.
      This roused a laugh from both Aragorn and Legolas.
      "I know not if that will be the case." Legolas replied, "But we should hope it will."
      "We should hope indeed." Aragorn put in.

      Once again the watch was set and the night was uneventful. Dawn came at it's own slow pace, and the three companions set out once more.

      "By nightfall," Legolas began, "we shall be in the halls of my father and shall be able to rest all the easier."