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The further north they traveled, the more of winter they found still clinging to the land. Nights became cold once again, and if it were not for the resilience of the Eldar more than likely Legolas would have found himself mourning the absence of his cloak.

As it was, one evening while he was on watch Elrohir came up behind him and plopped his own gray cloak unceremoniously around his shoulders. Legolas was finding the Peredhil twins to be both kind and protective beneath their copious layers of wit. They watched over the rangers as they traveled through that forsaken land, which only made even more sense when one considered that the twins were old enough to have known Beringil's great-great grandfather. There was no need for Legolas to envy the depth of Elladan and Elrohir's relationship with the Dunedain though. Finally, one by one, the rangers seemed to welcome Legolas into the fold. Travel and danger had a way of forging trust between strangers.

It was demonstrated just how much so some of the Dunedain had come to trust Legolas when they discovered an abandoned orc lair on the eve of their third week out. Ducking under the sharp overhanging lip of the cave, Legolas, Andris, Issiril and Asvard had gone inside to scout. A quick search had determined that the lair's previous owners had not occupied it for at least a season. Issiril discovered a rude cloth bag beneath a stone though, and upon turning it over a dozen rings had gone rolling across the cave floor.

Kneeling, Legolas frowned and plucked a bronze ring from the lot. "Strange...orcs are not usually inclined to loot?" He glanced up over his shoulder at the shadowed form of Andris.

"No, they don't usually have any use for baubles." Confirmed Andris, his voice echoing slightly in the dank space. "I don't reckon these were taken for their value though."

"Why then?" Settling the ring down with a muted 'clink' on the stone Legolas stood, taking care not to hit his head on the cavern ceiling.

Asvard coughed, rubbing his pointed chin with his knuckles. "They were searching for one in particular, some years ago. Well before Strider was born, actually."

"Asvard..." Issiril said warningly. Clearly too much was being said about something.

"Oh come off it Issiril." Andris broke in, throwing up his hands. "If he'd come from Rivendell he would already know." When Asvard did not disagree, Andris spoke to Legolas through the dark. "It was thirty or so years ago. To hear my mother tell it, the orcs were getting particularly active in the area, attacking travelers and sacking villages more aggressively than usual. It was as if they were searching for something, which they were."

"Fine, you can answer to Strider when we return then!" Issiril snapped, turning on her heel and stalking out of the cavern. "Or Beringil first if you prefer." She called back, displeasure ringing clearly in the echo.

Shrugging, Andris went on. "Don't mind her Legolas. You've more than proven yourself, all that you've done for us and our village."

"Agreed. Tell him Andris." Asvard glanced nervously at the entrance though, as if expecting Beringil to come roaring down the passage at any moment.

"If this has to do with Strider's true name, then perhaps you should not." Legolas interrupted, holding up a hand. "Your faith honors me, but is it not Strider's right to reveal this information when or if he chooses?"

For a moment, Andris looked slightly crestfallen. Then, he nodded and half-smiled. "Aye...you're right. I know though if Strider were here, he'd most likely tell you himself. And if he doesn't once we return, then I most certainly will!" This declaration brought Asvard's eyebrows up, but he made a sound that could have been interpreted as agreement.

"Again, we'll leave that in Strider's hands." Legolas smiled, touched that the young ranger would think so much of him that he would personally bring him in on the secret knowledge of their chieftain's identity.

As they made for the entrance to the cave, Andris sounded almost apologetic. "It's just that if word got out into the wrong ears, there would be enemies who almost certainly would try to murder Strider. Most likely the whole village too."

"Hence why we do not share such information with outsiders."

Beringil was standing with his arms folded, glaring at the three of them as only he could do. With his lips pursed over his beard he looked rather like an irate hedgehog. Issiril, looking smug, stood a short ways away with the other rangers where they were packing up from their break.

"Before you feed us to the wargs..." Andris held up his hands placatingly. "We said nothing. Legolas in fact refused to hear anything that does not come from Strider himself."

Beringil raised a busy eyebrow, looking Legolas dead in the eye as if sizing him up for the first time. "Oh he did now?" When Asvard nodded, the older ranger pursed his lips even as his shoulders relaxed. "Fine then. But you..." he jabbed a finger at Andris. "Mind your flapping tongue boy, or I'll gag you!"

"Something wrong?" The musical voice of Elladan filtered down through the rocky crags which they were surrounded at all times by. The twins, whom had been scouting ahead, eyed the almost-standoff like a pair of inquisitive Blue jays.

"No, not if Andris learns not to gossip like an old maid." Beringil snapped into action once again. "Well, anything or just more abandoned lairs?" The man would never on pain of death admit it, but it looked like Strider was being proven thoroughly right; the recent war in the East had nearly cleared the lands orcs.

Or so they thought. Heads nodding almost in perfect unison, Elladan and Elrohir pointed up the hill on which they were paused.

"There is movement near the pass, higher up. If we continue on this route we'll be at Mount Gundabad in a matter of days. No doubt any survivors of the Battle of Five Armies will be found lurking about that cursed peak."

A murmur of anticipation rippled through the Dunedain, both at the thought of Mount Gundabad but also at the possibility of orcs nearby. Legolas felt a conflicted wash of both sorrow and revulsion, as he always did whenever that fell place was mentioned. They had never been able to recover his mother's body from the deep lairs within the mountain. Deep in his heart, nothing terrified the elf prince more than the thought of entering Gundabad and possibly discovering what remained there.

To the rangers though, the thought of gouging evil from the very heart of its nest in the north was very tempting. They were but twenty-five in number, but the sheer lack of enemies they had seen on their journey thus far had emboldened everyone. Who could blame them, having to endure year after year of attacks from creatures filtering down out of the high fells? There was not one among them who had not lost kin or friends to orc knives and warg claws. With evil at the weakest it had been in centuries in this part of the world, how could one resist the chance to secure safety even further for the village and the lands beyond?

It was Beringil who spoke first. "Well, it seems we have a decision to make. You heard Elrohir; if we push on much further, we'll be practically on the doorstep of Gundabad. We could find anything there, from an empty mountain to a host of orcs regrouping their numbers." Looking around at the rangers and elves, he cleared his throat. "Either we turn round and return to the village, or we go on and see if we can kill whatever holdouts there are hiding in that wretched mountain."

"That could be a fool's errand Beringil...we don't know what's in there." Tollen spoke, his soft voice slightly thick from deafness but his lip-reading as quick as ever.

Kaylen frowned and plucked at her bowstring. "True, but look at us now. We're well into the lands of Angmar, and it's been days since we so much as saw a warg track. If we cleared the mountain, we might very well be able to drive orcs from these lands for years to come."

The thought of not months but years of peace sent a ripple of approval through the rangers. Frowning, Beringil's eyebrows knitted together when he spoke.

"What are your thoughts, you three?" he spoke to Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir. "You elves are all fine fighters, and I admit we have an unusual advantage at the moment with you lot here. But you are not Dunedain, and are not bound to our course if we decide upon Gundabad."

Elladan looked thoroughly wounded, so much so that it was hard to tell if he was jesting or not. "Beringil, you think so little of us!?" Covering his heart with a slender hand, the younger twin spoke solemnly. "We told Strider we would keep you well in hand, and so we shall, wherever you may go."

Elrohir nodded, fingering the hilt of his sword. "We would not have volunteered ourselves for this foray if we did not intend to see it through. However, I do say that we must think carefully before committing ourselves to such a course." Glancing back up the stony gray hill, the elf lord narrowed his eyes. "We saw movement among the rocks; Mount Gundabad is most assuredly not totally abandoned."

"And what about you, Legolas?" Kaylen watched him with almond-shaped eyes, her head tilted with a spark of adventure in her gaze. Tauriel would have looked at him in such a way, offering up some reckless, dangerous and thrilling idea or other. If she had had her way, they would have stormed Dol Goldur in pursuit of spiders a thousand times over. The Captain of the Woodland Guard was young, but then so was Legolas.

"I saw the legions of orcs that marched upon Erebor last season." He said slowly, weighing both paths. The twins had said they would follow the Dunedain whichever course they chose. Beringil certainly seemed less than enthusiastic about the idea, but the majority of the rangers were clearly eager at the potential for peaceful years ahead. It appeared he had become the tie-breaker.

"There were thousands upon thousands." He continued, still deciding even as he spoke. "So many that we could scarce believe the lands of Angmar and the Misty Mountains could contain such a force. The armies of Azog the Defiler were spent in battle though, with few escaping to return to the holes from whence they came."

"So..." Andris said expectantly, so doubt figuring which direction Legolas was leaning in.

Legolas stood, his decision made. "So it is doubtful that many remain to populate Mount Gundabad. If we are quick and very careful, this may be the best and only opportunity to clear the northern lands of evil for some time to come."

It was not just the recent war in the east that had helped Legolas make his decision. As much as he dreaded the very thought of treading the tunnels of Gundabad, he knew he had to. If his mother's body lay untended, forgotten in some forlorn hole in that accursed place, then he as her child would find it. The queen deserved a proper burial, and he would take this one chance he had been offered to try and recover her.

'Your mother loved you, more than anything. More than life.' Those had been the final words his father had spoken at their parting, and they came back to him now. Perhaps it would help Thranduil to heal, knowing that his wife had been properly laid to rest by their son. Yes, Legolas was resolved. As much as it might be dangerous, and might rend his heart at the very thought, he would enter Mount Gundabad.

oOo