The Price of Pride

69: Bad Days Getting Worse

ActVI

The Shadows

Chapter 69: Bad Days Getting Worse

Hidden Forge of Eregion, October 3rd 3018 T.A

The journey back was grueling, the sun casting long shadows as the days stretched into nights. For several days, the group pressed forward, walking through uneven terrain and winding mountain paths, the air growing colder as autumn's chill set in. Their movements were silent at times, each step deliberate as they navigated the rocky landscape with caution, wary of sudden dangers that might still lurk in these forgotten parts of the world.

Legolas led the way, his keen eyes and elven senses ever watchful. He moved with the grace of one born to these lands, his footsteps barely a whisper on the stone. But even he could not shake the slight tension in his posture, the stiffness that had taken hold ever since their hurried exit from the Hidden Forge. He didn't speak much, his thoughts clearly turned inward, and the occasional glance at the others betrayed a hint of frustration—a frustration that had little to do with the terrain and more with his own choices that had led them here.

Elladan, noticing the quiet turmoil in Legolas, often walked close by. His demeanor was calm but vigilant, the wisdom of his centuries-old experience guiding each step. He cast a few reassuring glances at Legolas, but for the most part, he allowed the silence to linger, giving the prince space to sort through his own mind. His younger brother, Elrohir, seemed to take the lead on lightening the mood whenever it grew too heavy, cracking dry jokes or pointing out the occasional absurdity of their situation—anything to keep the shadows of doubt at bay.

Xena kept pace with them all, her sharp eyes ever alert to the landscape and her senses finely tuned to every shift in the air. Though the trek was harsh, she showed no sign of wavering. There was a silent determination in her stride, her focus seemingly fixed on the new sword strapped to her back. Occasionally, her gaze would drift toward Legolas, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her eyes—something caught between curiosity and something deeper that she couldn't yet name. But as much as she was tempted to reach out and break the silence between them, she refrained, hiding her thoughts behind her steady expression.

They walked like this for days, stopping only for short breaks to rest and eat. The nights were spent under the cold sky, the stars above casting a pale light over their makeshift camps. Despite their fatigue, there was a sense of shared purpose among them, even if unspoken. They were all driven not just by the need to find their way back, but by something more—a desire to outpace the thoughts and emotions that threatened to slow them down.

Then, on the dawn of the fourth day, as the sky shifted from darkness to the first light of morning, Legolas paused in his steps. His ears caught a sound—a faint, distant noise that stirred something familiar in him. He held up a hand, signaling the others to stop. They all fell silent, their breaths held in the cold morning air, listening as the sound grew clearer.

It was the unmistakable whinny of horses.

A glimmer of relief crossed Legolas's face, and he broke into a swift stride, his pace quickening with each step. The others followed closely, the weariness of the past days falling away as they pushed through the last stretch of rocky terrain. The path ahead sloped downward, leading them into a narrow ravine that opened up into a grassy valley.

As they reached the base of the slope, the sight before them was almost too good to be true. Their horses stood there, grazing near a cluster of trees, their saddles still in place, waiting faithfully as if they had never been gone at all. The sight of their familiar mounts brought a wave of relief over the group, the kind that felt like a cool drink of water after days in a desert.