This I Promise You ~ (A Legolas Love Story) *Completed*

Chapter Seventeen

~Chapter Seventeen~

The Return of the Sword

For two long days, the Rohirrim marched south towards the White Mountains across the plains of Rohan alongside the Snowbourne River. For every stride of the horses the soldiers were carried closer and closer to the great mountains. Medlinya from the back of Arod behind the Elf Prince her eyes studied each rock, spec of grass, and the large mountains around her curiously. A weird sense heaviness of the earth weighed against her shoulders. A strange feeling in her gut manifested itself as the Rohirrim was lead into a narrow floodplain between two bases of the White Mountains. As the sun passed through the middle of the sky, Theoden lead the company and his men into a vast river valley under the cover of trees. The vast vale had become a Rohirrim camp filled with tents, soldiers, weapons, horses, and campfires.

'So is this Dunharrow?' Medlinya questioned curiously. 

Her sapphire eyes caught the slight incline of the Elf's head in front of her, 'It is, Aier.' [Short one].

The strange feeling seemed to become denser for every step Arod made into the valley. 'Legolas, I feel unusual.'

His cerulean orbs found her sapphire eyes immediately after her words were spoken, worried. 'Are you ill?'

A soft reassuring smile manifested on her lips, 'No I'm not ill.' Her eyes flickered to a great cliff in the distance, overlooking the valley of the soldiers' tents. A steep, winding path carved into the mountain was the only access any being could climb to get to the cliff. Darkness hovered around the cliff, a queer darkness Medlinya knew only she could see. 'That cliff has a companion... Darkness.'

Legolas stared at his Faenod, knowingly of what she spoke of though felt unable to speak about it. King Theoden lead the remaining companionship and his Riders through the encampment at Dunharrow, surveying Rohan's army.

Riding through the path between the tents, Theoden acknowledges a man, "Grimbold, how many?"

"I bring five hundred men from the Westfold, my Lord." Grimbold replied courtly as the King strode by. 

Gamling came to view among the soldiers, "We have three hundred more from Fenmarch, Theoden, King."

"Where are the riders from Snowbourn?" Theoden questioned his trusted guard, slowing his horse slighty to catch the disappointing words,

"None have come, my Lord." 

A tense silence fell over the soldiers who followed after King Theoden. Aragorn, riding on his dark brown horse Brego alongside Arod, glanced over to Legolas with a grave glint in his dark blue eyes. The Elf Prince exchanged the same expression as does Gimli. The she-elf had heard the awful news though her focus was on the cliff in the distance. With every ounce of her being, Medlinya did not desire to be close to that rock face. Dark ancient magic swirled around that peculiar mountain like light circulating the Sun.

Something terrible lingers in that mountain.

Something that did not want no living man nearby.

With a nervous gulp, Medlinya was helplessly carried closer and closer to the cliff face till she had to tilt her head back almost parallel to the ground to see the ledge. Uneasily the she-elf strengthened her grip around the Elf as the horses began to climb one by one up the narrow, winding rocky path.

Legolas' hand gripped his Faenod's clasped hands with a comforting squeeze, 'Uuma dela, Medlinya. The Stair of the Hold will safely guide us to the land on top of the cliff, Firienfield.' [Don't worry, Medlinya.] In response, Medlinya apprehensively nodded at his consonance and slowly as the Riders ascended the stair.