Dragon Rider in Middle Earth

XV

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They finish preparing and putting everything in the boats.

-Every league you travel south, the danger will increase. Mordor Orcs now hold the eastern shore of the Anduin- Celeborn warned.

As the Elf Lord speaks, the Fellowship climb into the boats. Legolas helps Gimli onboard and the dwarf stumbled slightly when getting on.
Sam tries to steady himself.

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Meanwhile, Aragorn and Celeborn wander through the heavy mist and sunlight.

-Nor will you find safety on the western bank. Strange creatures bearing the mark of the White Hand have been seen on our borders. Seldom do Orcs journey in the open, under the sun, yet these have done so!- the elven lord warns him.

The two pause, and Aragorn looks down. Celeborn holds an ornate dagger before him. Aragorn takes it, and unsheathes it; its blade glints.

-Le aphadar aen.(You are being tracked) -Aragorn sheathes the dagger -By river you have the chance of outrunning the enemy to the Falls of Rauros.

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While Aragorn spoke with Celeborn the others were waiting for Arya to get on the boats. Pippin noticed a small surge of water made their boats bob on the lake and Argent's head emerged from underwater, his scales shimmering with thousands of drops of water making the poor hobbit scream.

Gimli gasped and almost fell off of the boat. The hobbits screamed when they saw his head rise from the waters spraying them with droplets.

Arya laughed in amusement and lady Galadriel smiled, also amused.

-I did not mean to scare them- Argent lowered his head until it stood only a bit above the water.

Arya chuckled and pressed her hand to his brow. She then got on the boat between Gimli and Legolas.

A paddle splashes into the water and the Fellowship rows through the river, past the Elves onshore.

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The sun is reaching its rosy fingers over the hills; Caras Galadhon rises far away, in the mists. Voices sing with the rising dawn:

-Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrien,
Yéni úntimë ve rámar aldaron!
yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier
mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva
Andúnë pella Vardo tellumar
nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni...-

(Alas! Like gold fall the leaves in the wind,
long years numberless as the wings of the trees!
The long years have passed like swift draughts
of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West,
beneath the vaults of Varda wherein the stars
tremble in the song of her voice...)

The voices continue. A song of the sorrow of the Elves, of Lothló rien. As the boats move further downstream, Arya's eyes stare distantly. She smiles, remembering.

Earlier in the day lady Galadriel had given them parting gifts.

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-My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin- she presented the elf with a beautifully carved bow.