𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘:

The Pass of Caradhras: A mountain pass in the Misty Mountains along Caradhras peak. It is very dangerous since Caradhras often tries to ward off any travelers with a ton of snow. It also goes by the name of Redhorn Pass.

Anduin (The Great River): A river that runs south from the Grey Mountains of the North.

Mithril: A metal that resembles silver, but is incredibly strong and light. It's usually mined by dwarves.

Eryngûl: {Sindarin for} Forest of evil knowledge, magic, sorcery, and necromancy that I created. It lies on the western side of the Blue Mountains and is where Galadriel has told Legolas to go to seek answers.

Dúnedain: A race of men descended from the Númenóreans who survived the sinking of their island kingdom and came to Middle Earth. They are superior to normal men in terms of spirit and strength and have a long life span. They are also called Men of Westernesse.

Tueyan: A creature that I created that lives in the kind forest that is just north of Lothlórien (I also created this forest, but I never gave it a name). It somewhat resembles a fox, but is smaller, has long, pointed ears, and has large hind legs since they usually rest by standing up. Just like the forest that they are native from, they are extremely friendly and are actually very interested in people. However, instead of howling, they have a screeching, loud hiss.

High Pass: A mountain pass that leads from west of the Misty Mountains to Imladris. It was commonly used before it became infested with orcs.

Str Ninglar: A tributary river to the Anduin. I think it's spelled like that, but I'm not entirely sure because Tolkien wrote it kinda sloppy.

Namárië: {Quenya for} farewell

Raudhparan: Another land I created. It is north of the friendly forest and its name is Sindarin for "cavernous hills". As its name suggests, they are tall, rolling hills with large networks of caves lying underneath the surface.

•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•
"I was up for making changes,
walking down the street and meeting strangers,
flipping through my life turning pages."
•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•

{3} A Preliminary Hindrance

Despite the temptation of using the pass of Caradhras, which might have effectively shortened his journey and reduced the perils he could potentially encounter, Legolas bid against his wishful thinking and chose a path along the Great Anduin. Though his steed was of mighty valor and the finest of elven breeding, Legolas was hesitant to expose the horse to potential avalanches and natural disasters that were beyond his control. Aside from the mere reasoning of attachment (indeed, one later would be able to pry out of the elf that he had grown rather fond of the ivory beast) and good morals, the potential loss of a mount as swift as his could severely lengthen his scout.

As it has been implied, the path alongside the Anduin was not one to be taken lightly. This was all the more true when it came to one traveling down it with great haste.

Nevertheless, the Wood-elf viewed it as no daunt.

Instead, he welcomed the challenge with wide arms and a brazened smile. Donned in the finest armor of mithril and cloaks of silky Stansborough wool and bearing weapons to various degrees, Legolas had never found himself so invigorated to face danger and prove himself worthy of the gifts bestowed upon him.

Besides, there was not a chance that he would let the White Council down. A door had been cast open for him, and Legolas was not one to let exhilarating opportunities slip through his grasp.

The steed he rode upon, which was still yet to receive a name, only appeared to feed off of Legolas' exuberant energy and showcased a gait filled with bounce and pep. The forests of Lothlórien didn't take long to fade from their view as the pair traveled north. Their first destination would be Imladris, where Lord Elrond had advised Legolas to visit so he could discuss the matters of Eryngûl with the supposed ranger he claimed as a son.

Aside from the details that he was of the Dúnedain and was somehow connected with the evil-riddled forest, Legolas knew very little of the ranger Elrond spoke of. He wasn't entirely surprised, per se, about the fact that the half-elf would take in a Man of Westernesse, especially if he had no other family, but just wasn't expecting it. Either way, Legolas was rather intrigued to meet the man. He hadn't experienced many dealings with rangers before, given that most of the few that remained stuck to the west of the Misty Mountains, whereas he stayed east.

After conversing with the ranger, which Legolas hoped to take no longer than a day or two, he was aiming to shoot straight west for the Blue Mountains and Eryngûl. However, at this point, the Wood-elf reined his thoughts in and decided that being too ambitious and planning much further than that point would be unwise. There were many things that could go right between the present and then, but there were also many things that could go amiss.

•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•

The elves of the Lórien guard had reported a queer season for the Anduin tides. While it was no shock that rivers in spring would rush fiercely with the melted snow and ice from mountain chains, there had not been such elevations in water levels this early on in the year for quite some time.

They were quick to write it off as another evil-doing of the wickedness that lurked. It seemed as though the blame for anything unfortunate fell upon that assumption. Then again, there were none who were eager to correct such judgment and stereotyping.

The report had proven to indeed be accurate, and one glance at the frothy rapids of the Anduin was enough to tell Legolas that it would be wise to be wary of the river waters. To err on the side of caution, the Wood-elf and his horse kept a half-furlong distance between the dyad and the gurgling waters.

The start of their trek was eventless and tame, provided the fact that there was a decently-worn path for them to follow. The woods here boasted a certain kindness and hospitality that was seldom found in Middle Earth in these modern days. Plentiful space for hiking could be found betwixt their boles, and there was never a time where the swaying trees forced the path in circles to throw off a journeyman's sense of direction.

A breathtaking melody of rustling leaves and the lively singing of a spring swallow resounded throughout the crisp air. It was welcoming, if not warming to the heart, and drew a mellow smile to the elf's face. The peace was near enough to wash him clean of his worries and distraught.

Near enough, but not entirely. It would be unwise to let the warnings of Galadriel and Elrond slide to the back of his mind, even if the nerves resulted in a few strands of grey to materialize in his platinum, satiny locks.

A tueyan, quite rare to Middle Earth and indigenous only to the woods that Legolas currently trekked, emerged from the thick of a fern and onto the path. They were not all too different from their fox relatives: four-legged with curious pointed ears and a velvety bushy tail. Tueyans, however, were only found in shades of brilliant bronze and crisp white on their underbellies and were barely half the size of the average fox. Tufts of white also adorned the tips of their elongated ears, their muzzle, and their paws. They also relied a great deal more on their hind legs and tended to rest in a two-legged standing position with their tail swishing back and forth.

Though, there was one thing that distinguished them the greatest from their relatives. They were intensely attracted to, if not obsessed, with elves, humans, and anything of the like.

Using its powerful haunches, the tueyan sprung from the dense forest floor and right onto the knee of the Wood-elf. Having heard nothing of such creature before, Legolas' immediate reaction was to reach for a deadly blade, though his advances halted when he noticed the disposition of the mammal. Its tail wagged excitedly from side to side and its eccentric, large eyes studied him curiously.

"A greeting to you as well," Legolas chuckled. An awkward move was made to stroke its back, but he contradicted himself and decided that the contact might scare off the small animal. Instead, he cautiously reached into a saddle pack and withdrew a fruit-speckled cracker to entice the tueyan with.

Instantaneously, the creature's attention shifted from Legolas and to the pleasant smell of the fresh berries and flour. The elf had to stifle his laughter at the level of intensity the tueyan stared it down with. In fact, a small amount of drool might have been pooling at the corner of its mouth.

"You may have it, lest you take my fingers with it," Legolas granted, carefully bringing the cracker closer to the animal. To surprise him yet again, the tueyan accepted the treat with manners rivaling one of a tamed and well-trained pet.

Well, perhaps he spoke too soon.

Without warning, the creature leaped from his lap and onto the broad of his left shoulder. Legolas lightly scowled at the tueyan's unpredictable behavior, though it was difficult to maintain a grudge against the bushy-tailed animal. Heaving a sigh, Legolas shrugged his confusion off and settled for simply carrying on with the trail.

His horse had paid no mind to the sudden visitor that now occupied the shoulder of his rider, and happily obliged to pick up speed.

"You are not one for asking permission, are you?" Legolas chortled, half-expecting the creature to answer. However, his newfound companion was no master of magic or speech, so the elf contented himself with the silence of the animal.

"Would you happen to know the distance from here to the High Pass? I'm on course to meet the ranger of Rivendell," Legolas asked in jest. As he expected, his answer was merely the chirping of the swallows and the chitter of the squirrels.

Answering his own question, he figured to himself that this leg of the journey might optimistically take a week, yet that was to not take into account the crossing of the Str Ninglar, which was an entire question in itself. A more likely, and admittedly reasonable estimate, would be a fortnight.

The thrum of the nearby flowing Anduin gradually rang through Legolas' ears, effectively drowning out his surroundings and leaving him to his thoughts. He pondered a good deal of things, ranging from the senseless thoughts of past meals to the tedious planning of his path to the west.

Soon Legolas felt the sun swing low into the horizon and could taste the brisk night breeze in the air. As a result of his inherited Elven instincts, his external senses soon followed with a spike in awareness of many details he had failed to notice about his surroundings prior.

The Wood-elf's keen hearing slowly honed in on a cluster of soft pattering him a few yards off of the trail. The steps fell too faintly to belong to a coyote, yet they weren't quite as inaudible as those of a chipmunk.

When a stir arose from the creature still proudly perched upon his shoulder, Legolas, at last, made the connection between his traveling companion and their stalkers. He released a relieved laugh before saying to the tueyan, "Namárië, my mellon. I believe that this is the point at which our paths split."

The brush suddenly yielded greater than a dozen heads, all shining in bronze and milky white. Just as the tueyan that rested upon his shoulder, the creatures all bore a friendly, yet inquisitive, look. When they laid eyes upon a content constituent nuzzled between the cloth of Legolas' hood and his shoulder, the creatures emerged from the ferns. Quivers racked their bodies as they shook their coats free of debris and fluffed their tails out. Pink gums and white teeth flashed in the air as they all parted their mouths and tilted their heads to the sky, preparing for what Legolas presumed to be a pack howl or similar.

He wished that had been true. It would have been quite more of a pleasant experience if that had been so.

Rather, a screeching, snarling hiss gurgled from their throats and flooded the golden sky. It ground into Legolas' sensitive ears, causing him to recoil in discomfort as well as surprise.

There were fangs, which Legolas might've never imagined to occupy the mouths of the tueyan if not proven otherwise, that bared as their lips curled back. They gleamed in the light of the setting sun and grew sharper than daggers forged by dwarves of Erebor.

The elf had forgotten all about the tueyan that rested upon his shoulders, but then it stretched out and returned a snarling hiss to its pack. By now, Legolas' mount had begun to tremble and would've surely bolted if not for his extensive training from Lórien. His nostrils flared in adrenaline and the whites of his eyes could be seen clearly.

As though there had been a count going amongst them, the tueyans finished their call with a sharp pitch and grew silent. Their dagger-like fangs retracted, and in the bat of an eye, every trace of their bewildering appearance faded from the eye and they presumed the identity of a harmless, tiny critter once more. Their tails swished from side to side in excitement and they yapped at the tueyan perched upon the Wood-elf.

Without hesitation, his traveling companion nimbly leaped down from his shoulder and struck the ground. Its tail was flagged high as it pranced over to join its pack. It threw a look over its shoulder at the elf and his horse, to which Legolas replied with a farewell smile.

Legolas never saw the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed tueyan again.

•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•

Good progress had been made by the Wood-elf and his mount by the time that there was not a shard of sunlight in the sky. Night had overtaken the world, bathing the lands in darkness. Only the dim, soft light of the first-quarter moon and the blinking stars were left to illuminate the path for Legolas. Luckily for him and his perceptive Elven-eyes, the feeble light was more than enough for him to continue. His mount fared well enough and was able to navigate around divots in the unkempt path, but mainly trusted his rider's cues on where to go.

The going remained fair as they left the kindly forest in their wake and traveled across the great, rolling plains of Raudhparan. As its name might suggest, the surface of the land concealed a great network of caves and underground springs. While this was a well-known fact, there were few who knew of the actual dangers of the sloping lands. This was because of the mere lack of traffic that these paths received. For many years, the races of Middle Earth had avoided the High Pass to and from Imladris due to how infested it was with orcs.

Without consistent traveling, warnings and general information about a vast series of locations composing Middle Earth fell out of tales and eventually grew forgotten. The unlikely hills of Raudhparan made for an excellent example now, since there were few who were aware that there were a great number of cave systems that lay very close to the surface. If too much weight was concentrated in the wrong areas, then collapses of the surface were likely and often resulted in death via falling.

Needless to say, Legolas was exceedingly cautious to not stray from the marked trail as to not risk his or his horse's safety. There were many occasions at which the path brought them to a steep slope coated in loose gravel that could be easily avoided if they abandoned the path, but the Wood-elf held firm in his cautions.

For both the rider and the mount, the hours seemed to drag on tediously. The dimly illuminated path was sinuous and incessant. There came a point where the steady, drumming steps of his horse were the only things that provided him a way of remaining relevant with passing intervals of time. When he finally admitted to himself that they had to be lost, given that they should've left the land of Raudhparan hours ago, Legolas drew his horse to a halt and dismounted. He decided that waiting for the final hours of night to pass so he could get a proper view of their surroundings would prove productive. Besides, he could feel his mount growing weary and deduced that a couple of hours off the trail to recuperate would lift the horse's spirits.

The Wood-elf made quick work of untacking his mount. The light, elven saddle and pad were the first items to be stripped from the horse. He had originally insisted on riding bareback, but he eventually realized that securing the rest of the packs onto the stallion would be much easier if he had a saddle to fix them to. Next came the bridle, laden with intricate mithril engravings and colorful elf stones. The headstall was a little flashy for his liking, but even a simple Wood-elf as he could appreciate the refined details in the equipment.

Legolas withdrew a curry comb from a saddle pack and set to work rubbing circular motions on the coat of his horse. Once he was satisfied with his job and had broken up any sweat or dirt, he carefully emptied his water canteen into the stallion's mouth. Thankfully the ivory mount understood the risks of straying too far from the path—Legolas had grown to learn that horses indeed had a knack for sensing perils—and was content with grazing the foliage on the edges of the trail.

After ensuring that his horse was taken care of, the Wood-elf found a nook naturally carved into the side of a scarp about a quarter-furlong of the path. It granted him a decent view of the whereabouts of his horse and about a mile down either side of the trail. Though he doubted they would encounter any travelers, he remained prepared.

Eventually, the elf found himself passing time by studying every feature of the moon. She was a beauty, even if only a quarter through her lunar cycle, and eased the slow passing of time for him. There had once been an attempt early in the break where Legolas had attempted to at least rest, but he had not been so fortunate to have sleep close upon him. He eventually chalked it down to nerves, seeing that he was still rather excited about the journey and leery of what lay ahead.

So, seeing no alternative, Legolas sharply sighed and adjusted his sitting position before once more basking in the radiant, pale features of the moon and all of her glory.

•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•

The beating of battle drums never made for a good start to a morning.

That especially includes when one is journeying with no one for company but their horse. And, at least the last time that Legolas checked, horses didn't typically come in the stealthy-murderer-and-ready-to-kill-soldier style.

The Wood-elf hastily rose from his position and flexed his stiff muscles, all the while muttering a string of vivid words under his breath at his probable misfortune. He doubted that the drums were of any allies of his, despite the fact that this land was always desolate and void of enemies. However, as luck would have it, he just so happened to be wandering through Raudhparan when a fleet of beasts decided to change their minds.

What a splendid coincidence.

Legolas spared a glance down to his horse, who had also picked up on the presence of others. His ears swiveled back and forth, straining to pick up any other sounds, while his head was carried high and his nostrils flared. Though, the stallion remained in his strip of the trail, so the elf decided it was safe to get a better look.

The moon had just disappeared over the horizon, allowing the sun's warm, golden rays to flood the Middle Earth in her wake. With the darkness finally lifted, Legolas could see precise detail at least five leagues in each direction. The elf used his instincts and light-footedness to his advantage as he scaled the side of a steep ridge.

As he finally reached the peak of the hill, Legolas slinked into a crouch to limit potential views for his opponents. His body remained close to the ground as he found the perfect vantage point that allowed him a view for miles upon miles around him. As he studied the parts of the trail that weren't hidden in the shadows of the hills, he realized that they had made an error in their traveling the night before and accidentally doubled back to the south.

He had almost begun to think that the drums were a figment of his bored imagination when his eyes finally caught on an abhorrent sight.

There was no holding back now. Legolas openly cussed in the name of the enemy, wasting no effort in making his bright words as creative as possible as he insulted beings he had never even met before.

There, in a valley, three ridges southeast, stood a regiment of fowl beasts taller, stronger, and armed heavier than any orc he had laid eyes upon.

And their course was directed right at him.