Building Ithilien [Legolas] LOTR

Mist and Shadow

Moonlight flickered through yawning veils of cloud and mist to cast eerie shadows against the aged stone walls at Calenfen. Wind from the east moaned against the main gate, bawling its churlish discontent to the few who guarded the outer walls. The men kept their hoods pulled high and huddled against the ramparts, for a foul breath lingered, and a general malaise spread through the air.

A storm brewed.

Only two warriors braved the winds on the highest wall, and any foot soldier passing below them, whistling his lonely tune to take comfort in the familiar, might not have noticed them at all. If he had looked closer, the two sentries' cloaks would have told them for what they truly were—elves, each keeping silent vigil with the stars that dared to peer through wind-shredded clouds. Both strained their eyes against the night, fearing, and yet longing, for the resolution that the morning's light might bring: another day, and with it, the possibility of death and battle.

One of the elves frowned at the swirling mist and the vague outline of southern mountains. At the moment, everything seemed so distant to him, and the more the wind howled, the more anxious he became. Finally, he broke the silence with soft elven words:

"Sulindal, we have seen no sign or trace of our enemy since we have arrived. I have heard the men talking, and they believe that this is some sort of elvish plot on our part. They grow restless."

Sulindal permitted himself to smile a slow, careful smile behind the folds of his hood. "It seems that they are not the only ones who are restless, Eledhel."

"I am sorry, friend. You must excuse my impatience. It's just that the enemy—"

Sulindal turned his head to catch his friend's eye and interrupted, "I sense that this impatience is not entirely based on the absence of our enemy." He placed his hand on his friend's shoulder to lend him comfort. "Eledhel, do not fear for your sister. She left in Adrendil's protection, with Legolas not far behind them."

Eledhel pulled back his hood to expose his face, and his grey eyes gleamed. "I think I have spent more time worrying about my sister with those two elves, than actual orcs."

"She knows her heart, melonin, and Legolas loves her. I am glad for them both," said Sulindal fairly.

"Well, I suppose I am too, but honestly, my sister's love affairs will surely be the death of me some day! Thank goodness that you had enough sense to stay away from her."

Sulindal only smiled.

If Eledhel noticed this, he pretended not to and averted his gaze south. "Legolas and Aragorn should be on their way here by now."

"I expect so. Do you hope to see them from afar, and that is why you've been standing in this very position since the second day of our arrival?" he asked wryly.

"Sulindal, I am in no mood for smug lectures," replied Eledhel sternly.

Sulindal did not reply, but the look in his eyes said enough to loosen his friend's tongue.

Eledhel recklessly raked his hands through his hair and answered frustratedly, "Nothing about this makes any sense, Sulindal. Thranduil's spies spot an enormous orc host moving past the southern fringes of Mirkwood and southward to Gondor, so our company leaves to warn the villagers. We meet up with the orcs at the secret pass through Emyn Muil. Farothin disappears and then returns to us almost battered beyond recognition. We raced to this fort, fearing an onslaught, and then...nothing. Does that not strike you as odd?"

To that, Sulindal had no wise answers or observations. He pensively folded his arms across his chest and remained silent.

"Where are the orcs? There is a host of thousands out there somewhere, and we make the perfect target. Why have they not attacked yet? Why would they hesitate?"