Building Ithilien [Legolas] LOTR

Virtues of Spontaneity

The caravan of men and elves wound its way from the wet, clingy grass of the Nindalf toward the open plains of Gondor. They had left the village of Rilmost with the sun at its highest, and now Anor waned toward the west. So even though they had been moving for a relatively short time, the journey seemed to stretch on endlessly. The going had been slow and difficult at times. The villagers were not used to traveling at all, while the elves suffered from the malaise of having to go, for them, at a deadening, halting pace.

The prince led the front of the procession, and his captains patrolled the sides and the rear, making sure that their lines were safe.

Sulindal rode toward Miredhel. She had worn her cloak all day long with the hood pulled up, and Sulindal felt a trifle annoyed at what he considered to be very childish behavior.

"Look, Miredhel," he said as joined her side, "I know you are upset about Farothin. I am too. But Legolas is doing what he thinks is best. You cannot fault him for that. I know he blames himself, but it doesn't help matters to have you openly blaming him as well. He feels the weight of this more than any of us, I think."

She did not answer.

"Why don't you ride up front with us for a while," Sulindal asked gently. "I am sure the prince would like it."

She made no response.

"Miredhel." Still no response, and Sulindal's frustration with his friend mounted. She need not act like an elfling.

"Miredhel, did you anything I've been saying? And for pity's sake, take off that ridiculous hood!" Sulindal exploded and reaching over, pulled the hood back.

A peasant girl blinked at him, cowering from the obviously irate elf captain, and both individuals upon seeing each other turned a swift shade of white.

"Dear Valar!" The elf exclaimed, his eyes widening. Legolas was not going to like this at all. Not at all.

After a while, Sulindal rejoined the front where rode his leader.

"Prince Legolas, I think it would be well advised to stop for the night. I have ridden to the back of the lines, and many of the villagers are weary."

"Very well," said Legolas, and he signaled for the elves to come to a halt.

Sulindal looked at Eledhel and Legolas uncomfortably. He hoped that they had both heard the old adage, 'don't shoot the messenger.'

"Legolas, Eledhel?" he asked. "Can I have a word with you privately?" He summoned them away from the others-the less of a public commotion, the better. Sulindal would hate for the innocent villagers to see the leader of their expedition throttling one of his own. He knew how hot-headed Eledhel could be and well, suspected that even Legolas would not be his usual calm self.

"Legolas, Eledhel..." he repeated their names again, once he had pulled them out of shouting range from the rest of the group.

"Yes, what is it?" Eledhel asked rather impatiently.

Sulindal swallowed dryly. "I went back to talk to Miredhel. She's not there. Neither is Celeril. They're both gone."

"What do you mean, 'gone?'" whispered Legolas, the color draining from his cheeks.

"They gave their cloaks and horses to some women from Rilmost. I fear they never even left the village with us."

Legolas felt completely numb. "I can't believe she just left like that," he murmured.

"I can," Eledhel seethed, the tips of his ears glowing scarlet. "Foolish girl! There's no doubt in my mind she took off after Farothin and Adrendil."