He didn't speak after that. He looked at me for a long while, sitting next to me, almost touching, but not quite.

"So it shall be," he said quietly. With that, he stood in one lithe motion and was gone into the night.

I slowly let the realization sink in and shuddered into the frosty earth, hardly daring to imagine myself with Legolas ever again. Never could I feel his touch or the brush of his lips against mine.

It would literally kill him.

I felt no sadness, though I should have. Rather, I felt a resolute anger and knew I would do whatever it took to destroy the evil that made me like this.

It was ironic, though. For so long, I tried to avoid contact with him at all costs. Now, that was all I wanted--and it was impossible. 

I tried to roll over but my aching sides protested. Instead, I turned on my back and looked up at the stars, wishing with all my heart that this journey was simply to understand myself and not to  save more than myself. So many depended on me. 

With this depressing thought, I settled into an uneasy sleep.

The following morning, Maldor woke me.

"How are your injuries, my lady?" he asked, handing me a half filled water skin.

I smiled wanly at him. "I will be just fine, thank you," I said, sitting up.

As I figured, everything was a lot less sore. I thanked the Valar above for the moonstone I still carried.

It was proving, fortunately, to be more of a blessing than a curse, and with any luck, I would be fully able to move in a few days.

I stood up with difficulty. "We must go," I said loudly, "These lands are dangerous and it is best not to linger."

Legolas strode around to the far side of the camp, where the men of Gondor were also waking.

"Where must we go?" Faewyn asked, walking up to me.

"Falcon implied that it lay among these ruins, and in this valley, though I know not where," I said, a hint of frustration coloring my words.

"What is?"

"I would assume the scroll, since Falcon thinks the weapon is a petty myth," I said dryly, looking into the barren distance.

"Lady Gianna," Legolas said, inclining his head slightly as he approached.

"Yes, what is it?" I asked, instantly turning my head to look at him.

I almost shouldn't have, his gaze was hypnotic.

"To where should we proceed?" he questioned brusquely.

"We yet seek the scroll, and must find it among these ruins," I said, lowering my voice slightly. "We must keep looking."

He nodded and turned away.

There was nothing to speak of for the rest of the morning. The men and ourselves trudged on through the cold, squinting against the glare of the snow.

Before long, Faewyn wordlessly handed around a piece of lembas and each of us tore off a piece gratefully.

"How are the supplies?" I heard Maldor ask Faewyn as the walk dragged on.

"Steady yet," she replied, looking straight ahead.

For a moment there was no sound but that of the gravel beneath our feet.

Legolas abruptly stopped and turned,  effortlessly drawing an arrow. 

"Daro! (Halt!)" he commanded, a fierce gleam in his eyes. We all stood, uncertain. 

Without further delay, a shape leaped off the embankment and skidded to stop in front of us.
It was a Warg, dirt grey and scarred. Before it could spring, an arrow shot into its hide, and without any sound, it toppled to the frosty stones below.

Faewyn drew her blade and the men of Gondor assembled around the three of us.

Three?

"Legolas!" I called.

"Gianna, go," he said with difficulty, emerging from behind a boulder, his twin knives stained with black blood.

I flinched at the sight. "Go where?" I asked desperately, looking every which way for other attackers.

"Take two men and go," he just said, meeting my gaze for a split second. "There are more, I see them coming."

"Legolas, but--"

"I will not facilitate your capture again," he said, drawing another arrow. "They all bear armed riders, the first was a diversion."

I looked at him with incredulity. "Legolas, you did not--" I broke off, not willing to argue. "You both, accompany me," I said, pointing to two random helmets.

Two men that were definitely not the ones I pointed to broke ranks and jogged up to where I was.

"I suppose it was two specific men I had to choose," I rolled my eyes.

"Hurry, my lady," one of them said. "The pack cannot be more than a quarter of a league away."

I nodded and then turned, finding Faewyn's eyes.

"Go!" she mouthed, motioning with her hand to go. I turned and fled, flanked by my two guards.

I didn't know where I was going and was gripped by the same sense of delirium I had experienced all other times I was lost in these wilds.

But you are not lost, I reminded myself.

Not all who wander are lost.

Filled with renewed clarity, I surged forward, coming up to a stony hill I meant to turn away from.

"Left," said one of the men to my right.

"What?"

"Go left!"

I turned sharply left and narrowly avoided slipping on a slick boulder that lay in the path.

Trying to ignore a sudden flashback of the same scenario the day I met Legolas, I nimbly sidestepped it and instead turned to my left guard.

"I will follow you," I said, indicating that he should move forward. Obviously he knew where we were going, whereas I was sadly misinformed. 

He nodded and ran forward, weaving through various inconvenient landforms. Finally we reached a series of what seemed to be collapsed tunnels, rocky entrances completely covered by--surprise!--rocks and stones amounted on top. 

"How is this going to help?" I hissed, looking back wildly. I felt it, the desperate need to run.

Pursuit was no longer circumstantial; for all I knew, a pack of Wargs and their riders could barrel through the shallow valley at any time.

"Come," he said urgently. I followed him into a dark outcropping that soon revealed that it was an entrance of sorts. I felt a prickling sense of unease at the breath of dark, moist air that crept out of the shadows. 

I looked at him nervously. "Do you believe that it is safe?"

"My lady, would we lead you otherwise?" the other asked.

"Very well," I said with resignation, saying a quick mental prayer for my salvation. 

I ducked into the tunnel and followed.

I didn't realise this was an operational tunnel, and as we kept walking and the darkness got more oppressive, I figured it must have been cleared of rock as there were still some awkwardly placed boulders that definitely were not there before it was buried.

"How is this still here?" I asked, my voice echoing of the closeness of the chamber walls.

"It was cleared to ensure you would have a place to hide, my Lady," one of the men said. 

"What? When?" I asked, trying to see something in the tunnel and failing. 

"Not two nights past," the other said. "This tunnel runs near to the previous place we camped. It was strategically placed next to the pass when it was built by the Orcs." 

"Then who--" I dropped off abruptly because I knew the answer. 

One of the two men (I thought his name was Bren but didn't bother mentioning it in case it wasn't) confirmed this fact.

"Prince Legolas took the men out here every night to move the rocks and ensure it was safe for you to take refuge in if it ever came to be that you would need it," he said. "It seems our efforts were well spent."

I can't believe this, I thought.

I had the sudden urge to ask what he was wearing during this time, as imprudent as that was. I mean, lifting rocks?

Must be a difficult and exerting business.

Fortunately for everyone, though, I kept my mouth shut.

"Where do we go now?" I asked in a hoarse whisper. I'm not sure what it was about dark caves that made me want to whisper.

"We continue until we reach the pass," the man who might be named Bren said. 

"Which pass?" I said, even more confused.

"That which runs through Cirith Ungol," he answered. "There is a path that will safely reunite us with the others." 

Cirith Ungol...the cleft of spiders? The name made me uneasy, although at the moment I did not know why.

I continued following Bren and the other man, pausing uncertainly once or twice when the walls got too close.

"Here, my lady," one of them called from ahead. I quickened my pace, trailing my fingers along the cold walls.

I looked ahead and saw a glimmer of light; the afternoon sun had crept into a thin opening that looked to be accidental. 

"Here?" I motioned to the opening.

"Bren, this was the part still unstable after the Fall," said one man in a low voice.

Oh, so his name was Bren. 

"It will hold," Bren assured him. "It cannot be that damaged, else the ceiling would cave in." 

The other man turned to address me directly. "My lady, we must exit soon and we believe this would be an opportune moment to do so." 

"'Unstable'?" I reminded them. 

Bren hesitated and looked at his comrade. "This part of the tunnel is made of stacked stone, not solid rock. Although it has withstood much, anything could collapse it."

"Clever of the previous managers to do so," I said sarcastically, eying the opening critically. 

"It was, actually--this section of the pass can be collapsed to prevent easy access to the Fells of Urch, which lead to the Black Gate." Bren said. 

I looked at him with some degree of surprise.

"How do you know?" I asked. 

"We live in Gondor, my lady," he said, with a dry smile. "There is little of the Black Lands we do not know."

I returned the smile but sobered as I considered the path now that should be taken. 

"Very well, let us hurry," I said, nervously glancing behind me. I reflected on the fact that if there really were someone behind be, I probably wouldn't have any idea due to the darkness.

"After you," he said courteously. 

I ducked into the thin crack; pressing myself against the rock made me small enough to fit comfortably through.

Strangely, when I was on the other side, I felt exposed, as foreign and obvious as the sun in this forsaken land. I drew my bow and kept it out as I waited for the other two to emerge.

A deep shaking began, at first far-off and low, then louder as it increased. I leapt onto a mound of rubble and flinched as I beheld a host of goblins moving towards the area. Hardly a hundred strong, they still moved with deadly purpose.

I sprang to the opening in the rock and hissed to the two men "There are a hundred goblins advancing not quarter of a league away."

Bren shot his companion a worried glance. "Which path do they mean to take?" 

I looked at him, confused. "It appears they mean to cross by the road that takes them over this tunnel," I said, looking up at the distant group. 

The other man cursed under his breath. 

"What?" 

"This tunnel has not been passed over since it was cleared. It is very possible that they will collapse it inadvertently by passing over it." he said. I saw him clench his fist momentarily from the other side of the crude wall. 

"So we do not need to pass over it," I said hurriedly. "They do not seem to seek us." 

"All in these lands are influenced by the Remnants in some way. Falcon would not let you go so easily," Bren said darkly. "The risk is great either way." 

"There is little time to make a decision," I said, glancing up to gauge the advancement of the host. "Let us make for the hills in the next valley." 

"They will see you," the other insisted. 

"Damen, this may be the only choice." Bren reminded him. 

Ah, so now I knew both their names. 

"We are under orders," Damen growled, nervously fidgeting. "We are not to risk her life in any way." 

"I think I'll figure out what to do with my life on my own," I said with slight irritation. 

"No offence meant, my lady, but the Prince is very concerned for your well being." 

"I will take care of the Prince," I assured them. "You have my word that I will assume all blame for this if it were to fail." 

"It is too--" Damen started, listening to the noise of the footsteps marching steadily closer. 

"It is a greater risk to remain underground!" I said, frustrated. "The tunnel will fall with you trapped beneath." 

Without further comment, both of them squeezed through the thin opening. 

"Now," I said, shoving the arrow I was still clutching into my quiver, "Run."

The three of us sprinted over the rough plains, stumbling over countless rocks and great slabs of icy earth that protruded from the ground. 

By some grace of the Valar we made it over a shallow hill that cast a shadow large enough to hide in and we cast ourselves into it with great hurry. 

"Did they--" Damen began to ask, but I stopped him with a movement of my hand. I gazed at the view that met us from the rocky mound we had taken refuge under. The embankment stood high above a low valley, what seemed to be the other side of the path we had been on before the Wargs attacked. 

I could see people there, unmistakably some Wargs. A flash of a sword caught my eye and it was Faewyn, swiping with deadly grace among the scattered pack. But what truly made my heart skip a beat was the scene that took precedence above all.

Truly, nobody was fighting. Our assembled group stabbed or parried a blow here or there, but both sides waited for their leader's command. It made sense why nobody was doing much, for they stood directly facing each other, on a snow covered plateau removed from the skirmish.

Legolas stood proud and tall, his knives drawn, in front of Falcon.