The Raven [A Legolas Fanfiction]

Chapter Three

A/N:   I am really sorry it has taken me forever to update. I've been working on the new cover. It's a sketch that was forming in my mind for a couple weeks and I finally drew it. Oh and sorry for the first but being pretty slow; I'll try to get more action in this chapter.
And an FYI, I'm switching POV so it will be in third person for a while now.

Anyway, without further delay, chapter three....
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The elf awoke before dawn and hurriedly prepared for her journey. As Silmarwen got ready, she planned her path in her head. Although she knew the path was dangerous, she had a feeling that it was vital she went North around the Misty Mountains, past Mount Gundabad. She shivered at the thought. In order to go that path, she would have to take the East-West road until she reached the River Mitheithel where the Raven would turn northward, following the river until she it collided with the Misty Mountains. After that, Silmarwen's path would lead her through the Etenmoors. Crossing paths with trolls was not ideal, but she knew she would be able to avoid them.

From there, it was the herculean task of crossing the mountains near Gundabad unseen. It would not be the first time the elleth had passed through those lands, and, however unlikely, she wished it to be the last. The memories she held onto from before her life as the Raven caused every fiber of her being to detest the fortress and the orcs she believed to have abandoned it. It was because of this Silmarwen delayed her annual bypass through the Mountains of Angmar. The King wished her to scout all strongholds and lands every three winters, if not sooner. It had been almost four.

Once she escaped the dreaded region, she had only to follow the River Langwell until its waters merged with the Greylin to from the Great Anduin where she was to cross, and then head East, skirting the Mirkwood trails until she reached the Halls of the Elvenking. It was no simple task, but she thrived on challenges. The Raven only prayed that there would be no interruptions.

With a sigh, the elleth slipped out of her room and vanished from the town completely. It was the beginning of an adventure for which she had never wished.

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Miles of plains and empty landscapes lay on either side of her without any sign of life. Her pace soon quickened at her unwillingness to be in the open for long, and soon enough, the Raven was flying across the wilderness. Had she been mortal, Silmarwen would have collapsed after little more than an hour at the pace she had pushed herself to, but she continued for two days straight without rest or reprieve.

I must be nearing Loudwater, she thought to herself, for that was the common name of the River Mitheithel. By and by, the sound of the rushing river greeted her ears. The minute Silmarwen espied crystal clear water a deep voice of warning resonated in her ears. At first, the innocent elf thought she was going mad, but in little time she realized that the voice belonged to Ulmo, the Lord of Waters.

Now, most would deem a message from any one of the Valar a great honor; however, this particular elleth blamed the Valar for the deaths of her family and the loss of her love. She despised those whom Eru Iluvatar had sent to care for Arda.

In her ignorance and haste, she rebuffed the warning and continued on her path. As she followed the river, Ulmo's voice grew louder in her mind, but the Raven's will was set, and she was not to be dissuaded. Attempting to escape the words of the Vala, Silmarwen turned her course away from the river. Although she continued north, she was far enough away from the water that the warning did not reach her, for she had entered a small wooded area that stood out from the plains. In its place, a dull, resounding ache filled her mind and clouded her thoughts ever so slightly. This almost proved to be the undoing of her for she uncharacteristically let down her guard ever so slightly and allowed danger to come near.

Unknown to Silmarwen, the followers of the man she killed at the Kings's order managed to track her and were quickly closing their net around her.

The Raven heard a twig snap, but in her slightly confused state, she assumed it to be a squirrel. Had she been at her normal alertness the assassin would have known immediately that the sound was not made by any woodland animal but made by a clumsy human. The elleth realized her blunder when an arrow whizzed by her cheek. Before she could even draw a weapon, a rough-hewn blade appeared at her throat.

"Move and you're dead."

The elf's senses were instantly awoken at the harsh words spoken near her ear, and she deciphered multiple other human figures emerging from the daunting trees.

"You have taken the life of our leader," the wild-man continued, "so naturally, we want you dead. But we also know someone who would pay a pretty price for an elf like yourself."

The Raven glared defiantly from under her hood at her captors. The warrior in her noted the number of crude weapons that the band of men carried and the blood thirsty glint in their eyes. She knew that if they didn't have hope for reward, they would gladly kill her on the spot. About a score of men formed a circle around her, heavy swords in hand. She was grossly outnumbered and rather shaken at her capture. Although her anger at herself and these men was greater than her alarm.

So naturally, Silmarwen fought back.

In a blindingly fast motion, the Raven flicked the man's blade away with her long knife and into the chest of one of his companions, while reaching for the other of her twin dueling knives to slit her captors throat.

The other men stared at her in gross awe for a split second before reacting to their friend's death. Being obviously untrained soldiers, they charged the messenger in pairs and threes.

The elleth repelled all of their attacks, her eyes a burning grey, for she took all the anger of her moment of weakness and channeled it into her instincts. It was an effective technique that she used in training. Only now, it was not training.

For a while, it looked as if she, with all of her elven grace and speed in battle, had the upper hand, but unbeknownst to the Raven, three human archers were perched in the trees above her head, watching their kinsman become slaughtered. Fifteen other men and a battalion of orcs were en route.

An arrow whistled through the thick air as Silmarwen finished of the last of the standing wild men. She quickly dodged the it but did not react in time to the second or third. One grazed her arm, not deep enough for any damage more than a scar, and the other pierced her thigh. The elleth's leg gave out, and her battered form collapsed against the nearest tree. Before she could find the archers that injured her or treat her wounds, the unmistakable sound of approaching orcs filled her ears. In that moment, the elf's strength failed her, and to her horror, she passed into darkness.

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Ok so for those of you who haven't read The Silmarillion, it explains that Eru Iluvatar is like the supreme deity who created the Ainur (sort of like his angels). Some of the Ainur went down to Middle-Earth or Arda to prepare the way for the children of Iluvatar (elves and men, dwarves were an accident) and they were called the Valar.

That was a very concise description and doesn't do them book justice at also I'd advise you to read it yourself:) .

To explain the map at the top, the blue is the Raven's intended route, the red is the route she ends up on, and the yellow... Well you'll just have to wait to find out.