Starting Anew

The Red Cat

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It seemed that the wrestling challenge Legolas had received was to be his 'initiation' amongst the Dunedain of Fornost; many of the rangers were noticeably more amiable toward the Sindarin elf the next day. When Legolas joined them in the early morning for their daily route around the valley in which the village was set, most greeted him with open smiles and nods of the head. Even Andris and company, whom had been made to shovel manure for an entire day as punishment seemed glad to see him.

There was a frost over the forest, and their breath made clouds in the air as Legolas and the Dundedain made the trek on well-worn paths up the valley ridge. At the top of the ridge they paused for a moment, and Beringil stood looking out over the grey landscape. With a hand tugging at his stubby brown beard, the older mortal furrowed his brow.

"Seems there's a bit of cloud settling down over the valley. I can't make out much..." Glancing over his shoulder at their party of eight, he picked out Legolas and jerked his head. "Come here elf, tell me if you see anything."

With a short nod, Legolas dropped his hood and stepped up to the edge of the ridge beside Beringil. Strider was out scouting with a few of his most trusted rangers this morning, and so Legolas only had a handful of familiar faces to manage with. Beringil may have come dangerously close to insulting the woodland prince the first time they met, but since then his even, sensible manner had not made the mortal hard to get along with.

Scanning the valley floor far below, Legolas's sharp blue eyes could make out the wisp of smoke curling over the pine-tops from the village hearths. A herd of deer were moving through the trees on the far side of the river, and a mountain cat could also be seen lounging on a crag across the valley. These things were all far away though; more than two leagues at least. To Beringil and the other rangers, it all seemed vague and indistinguishable beyond the settling fog.

Satisfied, Legolas turned back to his slightly shorter companion. "All looks quiet below. There is a mountain cat across the way, but she seems well and content to keep her distance from the village."

An incredulous sound brought both Legolas and Beringil's heads snapping around. A tall thin man look chagrined, and quickly pardoned himself.

"It's just that I fair impressed you can see that far, Master Elf." The fellow said, grimacing under the narrowed gaze Legolas was giving him. "Even Elladan and Elrohir would be hard-pressed to see the other side of the valley from here, and in this ill weather."

Relaxing, the corner of Legolas's mouth twitched in a half-smile. "Do not tell the sons of Lord Elrond that you said as much, for keen eyesight is one thing that all elves take great pride in." He did not doubt for a second though that the Peredhil lords' eyes were not as sharp as his own.

Beringil turned and walked away through the light snow dusting the trail back to where the rest of their patrol was taking a brief break. It was midmorning, but even still the sun was not visible through the thick cloud cover. Turning his gaze back to the mountain lion, Legolas found himself struck by the color of its tawny fur. Even at a distance the big cat was fluid, graceful. It reminded him very much of Tauriel.

It came as a surprise to Legolas to realize that he had not thought of Tauriel within the past twenty-four hours at least. She came almost unbidden to his mind, stretching within his memories with the same careless beauty of the lounging cat on the crag.

It had been an early autumn morning, when Legolas had compared Tauriel to a cat...

oOo

He had been descending the twisting staircase to the armory, passing through one of the many 'indoor' gardens kept by his father inside the caverns. Although trees would not flourish in such places, the Silvan elves had been masters of growing many types of mosses and other botanicals inside caves long before Oropher arrived. Legolas was walking past one such garden when he spotted a characteristic flash of red. Red hair was not common among Silvan elves, and even less so among Sindarin. Detouring from his original course, Legolas had decided the fitting for his armor could wait.

Tauriel of course had heard his approach long before he was within polite speaking distance, and had greeted her prince with a smile.

"Le suilon, ernil-nin." She said, standing respectfully. Today was not a patrol day for the Captain, a rare occurrence. Dressed in a pale green tunic and gray leggings, her lithe form seemed somehow softer than it usually did when wrapped in armor. A small figure squirmed in Tauriel's arms, and Legolas tilted his head curiously.

"Where did you find that, Tauriel? It looks very young."

Lifting the tiny orange kitten from the crook of her arm, Tauriel smiled and let it chew on one of her long fingers. "Yes, he most certainly is. It seems we have new tenants living in the wine cellars! This one is part of a litter of six."

Legolas was quite used to the many elkhounds kept by the elvenking, and often enjoyed their company when out hunting in the forest. He spent somewhat less time around cats, despite the free reign they had been given within the halls of the Woodland Realm. They kept the mice away from the cellars and thus earned their keep, but Legolas had never really stopped to interact with any of them. The life of a prince was a busy one.

Now that he was face to face with the furry little fellow in Tauriel's arms, Legolas could not help but be amused. The kitten let out a mewl, and proceeded to climb up her sleeve with sharp looking little claws. Tauriel did not seem to mind though, letting out a bell-like laugh that Legolas could still hear even now.

"Ai, this one will be a trouble-maker!" she exclaimed. "Eager to explore anything he can set his paws on."

Raising an eyebrow, Legolas could not resist making the comparison. "Now why does that sound strangely familiar?" Reaching out, he scratched the kitten behind one of its orange little ears. "Whoever do we know that is much the same way?"

Tauriel missed nothing, especially not a jest. Holding out the kitten toward Legolas, she raised her eyebrows right back at him. "Careful now my lord, he and I both possess claws and are not above using them when offended."

"I quiver with fear." Legolas had smiled as he took the kitten, letting it make good on the threat and nip playfully at his fingers.

oOo

The mountain lion gave a mighty yawn before stepping down off the rock where it had been sprawled and disappearing from view. With the wind unable to blow away the memories left behind, Legolas sighed quietly and resigned himself to a day haunted by the coppery-haired Silvan. He wondered if his father had allowed her to resume her duties as Captain of the Guard. Something told him he had; Thranduil's eyes on that day had been as glassy as the melting layer of ice around his heart.

Sudden movement away to the north caught Legolas's eye. Thinking it might be Strider and his scouting party, he looked carefully. Sure enough, he could just barely make out movement of cloaked figures in the distant underbrush. It was a hard spot to make, given the stealth of rangers in the woods and how far away they were from where Legolas stood. The valley ridge made an excellent vantage point, and afforded the elf a view for leagues around.

The movement that had drawn his attention was not Strider and his party though. Narrowing his eyes, Legolas was not sure what he was seeing...but it was not one of their own.

Calling Beringil over, he pointed to the area despite knowing the mortal would never be able to see what he saw. "Are there any others who live in the area, besides your folk?"

The man shook his head. "Nay. We're the only ones on this side of the foothills. And the only ones this far north of the Shire."

"...Strider and his scouts have company."

No sooner were the words out of Legolas's mouth than Beringil was barking orders at the other rangers. In a matter of seconds they had all dropped their pipes into their belts and were on their feet. Marvelling at how quickly they had all taken his word for it, Legolas was already mentally plotting the fastest path along the ridge down to where Strider and his men were. He did not know just who or what he had seen, but whoever they were they were approaching from the north, fast. Strider would have little to no warning, unless Legolas, Beringil, Andris and the others got to him first.

oOo