Lady of Sky (Legolas/OC)

Book 2: chapter 14

"They have been steadily moving South, curving slightly Westward until I lost sight of them between tall rock outcroppings during the dead of night about an hour ago. I searched for them, but the lack of moonlight hinders my sight." I tell Aragorn as I fall into pace with them, relieved to give my wings some rest. "I am sorry." I apologize, feeling like I failed them.

"No matter Therith, you did well. You have been in flight constantly for nearly two days. It's best you gather your strength while we track them further from the ground." Aragorn assures me, squinting to see through the darkness. "We are forced to rest anyway. I can no longer see a foot in front of me, much less any stir of the soil."

With a deep sigh, we lay down, feeling our bodies slowly become stiff now that our relentless moving has come to an abrupt halt. "Good gracious. Though I feel bad for not pushing forward, I couldn't take it to stumble on one more rock laid in my path." Gimli grumbles before his deep breaths slowly turn to snores.

I however am not so lucky and toss and turn for hours. I must have fallen asleep at some point despite my restlessness, but I guess it must only have been a brief sleep when Legolas roused me. The sun was just rising, slowly casting light over the long stretches of land ahead of us.

Aragorn spurs us on to take to running once more. There is no waiting for each other while we do so, we can only push ourselves to keep up with Aragorn, as his eyes fleet from one trail to the next while his pace is relentless.

That night we did not rest as no clouds block the moonlight from covering the lands, leaving enough light to have Aragorn guide us onwards. It is only the next morning when he halts briefly, getting on his hands and knees to press his ear against the rock, concentrating hard.

Our respite ends much too briefly when he jumps to his feet again. "Their pace has quickened. They must have caught our scent. Hurry!" he calls, trudging on, leaving Gimli huffing out of breath.

"Come on Gimli!" Legolas urges, following after the man tirelessly as I take Gimli's arm to set him upright.

"Three days' and nights' pursuit. No food, hardly any rest and no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell." he scoffs before reluctantly setting his feet in motion once again while mumbling something about not wanting to be stood up by an elf.

Some hours later, I nearly run into Aragorn's back as he suddenly halts, crouching down to gather something from the ground. My eyes widen to the sight of a familiar brooch. "Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall." he mutters.

"They may yet be alive." Legolas exclaims, taking this as a good omen.

"Less than a day ahead of us. Come!" Aragorn says with renewed vigor, taking off again just when Gimli caught up to us.

"Come, Gimli! We are gaining on them!" Legolas calls, urging his unlikely friend on, making him huff in reply.

"I am wasted on cross-country! We dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!" he says in-between pants, making me chuckle despite my lack of energy. I do not recall ever pushing myself this hard on my other adventures.

Again we run for hours until reaching an outcrop, leaving us able to see the land flattening before us. Finally we are passed the hills. "Rohan; home of the horse-lords. There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us." Aragorn breathes, disappointed to see no sight of our enemy.

"Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?" he questions, turning to him as his eyes roam the land before him.

"The Uruks turn northeast. They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!" he calls out in alarm.

"Saruman!" Aragorn gasps in realization.

"We must cut them off before they are beyond our reach! I do not wish to imagine what Saruman will do to those poor hobbits when he has them in his clutches." I say through gritted teeth, dread filling me before running downhill to continue our pursuit.

We took that night to push on, needing every moment we have to shorten any distance on the pack of Uruks and our friends. After a long night, the sun rises before us, carrying a deadly omen.

"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night." Legolas states ominously. Fearing the worst, we press on through the barren land.

"Something is coming." I state, warning my company as a sound reaches my ears before a vast group of horse riders appear over the horizon.

"Riders!" Legolas calls, unsure if they are friend or foe.

"Rohirrim I gather. Come." Aragorn calls, motioning to a set of rocks to help shield us from their eyes.

Before long they pass by us with thundering hoof falls. They are dressed for battle, carrying shield and weapon. Suddenly Aragorn leaps from our hiding place, calling after them once the last man passed. "Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?!"

In a fluid motion, the riders turn before circling us and before long we find ourselves back-to-back, spears glinting as the hover dangerously in front of our faces.

Their leader steps forward, pushing through the ring of horses with his own steed. "What business does an elf, a man, a woman and a dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!" he demands.

"Give me your name, Horsemaster, and I shall give you mine." Gimli says bravely, though igniting the man's temper as he gets off his horse.

"I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." the man says. I am unsure of it being a jest or if he is seriously considering to do so.

Legolas however has already made up his mind as he knocks an arrow so quickly, pointing it at the man's head, startling the riders. "You would die before your stroke fell!"

Aragorn takes hold of Legolas' arm, pushing it down before things get out of hand. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Gloin, Therith and Legolas of the Woodland realm. We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king." he introduces, purposely leaving out my heritage, may Sauron ever hear word of me again.

The man looks down in sadness at Aragorn's words. "Théoden no longer recognizes friend foe." he says, taking off his helmet. "Not even his own kin. My name is Éomer, the King's nephew." he finishes, revealing his relations. The spears are finally drawn away.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets." he explains.

"We are not spies. We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They've taken two of our friends captive." Aragorn says, addressing the matter at hand.

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night." the rider reveals, much to our surprise.

"But there were two hobbits. Did you see two hobbits with them?" Gimli presses.

"They would be small – only children to your eyes." Aragorn interjects.

Éomer looks at us, his face grim. "We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." he says, pointing towards the horizon where smoke rises from behind a hill. "I am sorry."

Dread grips my heart once again as my mind shouts at me, denying his words. I need to see for myself. I will not accept their passing...not until I have seen the proof, however horrid it may be to behold.

"Hasufel! Arod!" Éomer calls, having two horses come up. "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters." he says, leaving them in our care before turning back the way they were headed. "Farewell."

"Look for your friends. But do not trust to hope, it has forsaken these lands." he calls over his shoulder before turning to his men. "We ride north!"

My heart aches in discomfort as I mount Arod behind Legolas. My feet are relieved to leave the ground, but I can hardly care for the small comfort as of now. Aragorn spurs Hasufel forwards, Gimli groaning uncomfortably, but staying silent. We follow behind them, preparing ourselves for the worst, but hoping for the best.