༶•┈┈⛧┈♛Foxgloves and Greenleaves ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

Chapter 12: Legolas

Ten years later...

I wake up, feeling something warm and wet nuzzling my side. I roll over to find Anchora chewing on my sleeve. I move my arm, which causes her to stop and chew on the grass.

"What is the matter?" I grumble, sitting up. The sun starts to shine through the trees, providing us with some light. I rub my eyes as Anchora continues to nuzzle my side.

It feels as if I have wandered all of Middle Earth already looking for Strider. Clues and rumors from creatures all alike do not aid me in my search for the wanderer my father speaks of. Perhaps they should call me Strider for journeying every crevice and corner of Middle Earth besides Mordor.

Taking it as a sign to wake up, I stand and untie the impatient mare. Before I could even properly mount her, Anchora takes off as if the very whips of her master were behind her. Luckily, I grab onto the reins, hanging on while hastily mounting. I tug on the reins, but it only causes Anchora to gallop faster. Suddenly, she slows to a slow trot and stops. Her ears twitch left and right, listening for the slightest of sounds. I listen as well, but hear nothing except the breaking of branches and the fluttering wings of a bird.

"Where are you bringing me?" I ask, stroking the grey mare's mane in an attempt to calm her. Anchora snorts, then continues west for a few kilometers. She does not stop until we reach an opening of trees that leads to a wide expanse of barren land. But in the barren land, thousands of orcs had made camp and were now sharpening their weapons.

"Move it, you slugs!" An orc twice as tall and twice as repulsive snarled. His dark skin shines in the sun, gleaming with grime and sweat. In his hand was a large ax, caked with blood. I instantly recognized him as Mornag the Macabre, infamous for his giant ax. Like all other notorious orcs, he was no better than the last.

"Where are we going?" A skinny goblin grumbles in annoyance.

Mornag grabs him by the neck and places the tip of his large ax at the goblin's throat. "We're going to Delmaris, you filthy maggot!" Mornag barks. "The kingdom is crumbling with its weak king; we'll have no trouble getting inside."

The goblin slowly smirks with realization. "And he'll have trouble getting out."

Delmaris. They're heading for Delmaris! Meaning... Miranna.

I turn Anchora around and head back where we came from. I do not have to guide Anchora since the grey mare knew where Delmaris was despite all the time that has passed. Miranna. What good will it be if I choose not to warn her? It would make me no better than the elf I was so many years ago.

Anchora bursts through the gates instead of waiting for them to open. Elves jump out of the way as we head towards the castle. Guards chase after us in an attempt to stop us, but they are no match for Anchora's speed. Anchora stops in front of the castle, allowing me to dismount.

Guards in front of the door form a barrier. "You there! What is a lowly elf like you doing here-" a guard starts to demand before I shove him out of the way.

I open the doors and march towards Miranna, who was busy signing orders. As I grow closer, there appeared to be dark circles underneath her eyes as if she had been awake all night, but a glint of determination in her eyes outshines her fatigue. Even with her fatigue, she walks with a sense of dignity and respect. And her eyes, they were once green but after being with the sea for so long, it changes from blue to green whichever way the light shone. She sighs as another elf hands her a scroll.

I stop in front of the throne, waiting. After she signs the scroll, she sits down on the throne, but jumps up with a startle when she sees me.

"L-Legolas?" She stutters. Her eyes widen in shock then narrow before crossing her arms. "What are you doing here?"