The Sons of Durin

Farewell to the Woodland Realm

Within the first few days of his journey (even ere that first night of travel had ended), Legolas had begun to repent of his agreement to allow the young dwarf-prince to accompany him on his journey. It is said that the horses bred and raised by elf-masters are second to none, and Legolas's stallion Voronwer was the embodiment of all that any elvish rider desired in a steed; both sturdy and elegant, fleet of leg, graceful of bearing, bright of eye, and strong of bone. But even Voronwer could not be expected to carry two riders with the same ease and speed with which he should have carried one, and as the first sun rose upon the road he traveled, the elf-prince found himself in regretful musings over the knowledge that he had chosen the worst possible companion to keep him company: a dwarf, and a crippled one at that.

As the light of a chilly dawn broke over the eastern horizon, staunch Voronwer carried his double burden in a northwestern direction, through the northern parts of Mirkwood and toward the Grey Mountains that lay southeast of Angmar. Legolas had hoped to skirt the northernmost edge of Mirkwood, and thereby avoid having to re-enter his father's realm, but that route was longer than the one he had ultimately chosen, and while not very much longer, it added enough to the distance that Legolas did not find it worth the trouble while he had a lame dwarf in his keeping. And so he followed the Forest River, finding his path beneath the twisted trees of the sickened wood. It saddened the elf-prince to see once again the affects of the darkness that had overtaken his homeland, but this was not his greatest reason for having hoped to skirt around Mirkwood. Rather, he had feared that if he passed through his home on his way to seek the Dúnedain as his father had advise, then his resolve might falter and he might find himself unable to leave the Woodland Realm after all. For the heart of Legolas was heavy with the thought of his departure, needful though it was.

For Fíli's part, and to his credit, he had proved his presence to be far less trouble than Legolas had suspected. Seated behind the elf-prince with one short dwarf-leg hanging uselessly over each of Voronwer's flanks, he silently held on to the back of Legolas's cloak and did his best to not slide off the horse's smoothhaired back. He had not known before that elves rode saddleless, and despite being propped up by Legolas's small back of provisions and having Legolas's clothing as a handhold, he worried that the slightest bump might send him tumbling off the creature's back-especially since he could not use his legs for gripping. Fortunately Voronwer's gait was smooth as it was swift, and there were few unexpected bounces and jolts even as they journeyed through the forest's uneven terrain.

Gloomily Fíli watched the bleak scenery go by, the lumpy root-covered ground below and the knotted tangle of branches as a canopy far above. Remembering how he and the rest of Thorin Oakenshield's Company had gotten themselves hopelessly lost in their earlier attempt to cross Mirkwood, the young dwarf wondered that the elf seemed so easily able to navigate the forest; but Legolas, who had been born and reared in these woodlands was in no danger of becoming lost.

Their path lay parallel with the Forest River, which had now come into full view as Legolas guided Voronwer along the bank-if indeed he was guiding him, for Voronwer seemed to know his way as well as the elf-prince did, and it hardly, if ever, seemed necessary for Legolas to give any commands to his steed, save an occasional gentle word spoken in the elvish tongue. These words may or may not have been meant for the instruction of the horse; Fíli spoke no elvish and so did not know what his companion was saying, or whether he spoke to Voronwer or merely to himself. The only thing of which Fíli was certain was the fact that Legolas was not speaking to him; but he supposed that was really all he needed to know, for if the elf was not addressing him then there was no need for him to bother listening and trying to decipher the words.