The Exile's Daughter

Breathless Wanderings

Time was running out, and every man and elf knew it. Each face was grey with exhaustion and fear, and, any time they met Legolas' desperate eyes, full of pity and grief.

He knew what they expected to find now, three excruciatingly long days after they had set out from the camp, but he could not bring himself to face the ever more likely conclusion of this venture. She would be alive. If he did not believe that, he would have no strength to go on. Even if she was – no, he could not think of it. But he would see things through to the end. He had told her, only days before, that any who hurt her would not live to tell the tale. If all he could do was fulfil that pledge, then so be it. 

Aragorn was almost as frightened as he. He didn't know what he had expected from the man, but he had not imagined he would turn to his right, on midday of the third day of their ride, and see tears upon his cheeks. Not knowing what to say, he had only reached out to take his friend's hand, and they had ridden thus for hours, not speaking a word.

However, when Legolas spotted a familiar sight in the grass ahead, he wrenched away from Aragorn, galloping over to it and leaping lightly from his horse's back.

It was her weapons, all accounted for and undamaged. Perhaps they had thrown them aside from horseback while they took her to wherever she now lay. Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, then reached into the bottom of the quiver, where he knew she kept a few bandages and cloths, and placed them carefully in his own quiver along with her remaining arrows, silently promising to return her things when he saw her.

If he saw her, that was.

Everything smelt of her in some way. Even the leather of the quiver had a Ness-like quality to it. A tear trailed down his cheek and Aragorn dismounted too. He examined each weapon closely, then followed the trail on foot, travelling three furlongs before waving them on.

The mortals could no longer see him, but Legolas and the twins led the way, Aragorn's horse cantering beside Elladan's. "They went this way", Aragorn said unnecessarily, "then took a sharp right up onto that hill. There the tracks stop, as far as I can tell in this light."

Legolas fiddled with her bow, attached to his saddle. The others were suddenly tense. Who knew what they might now find. "You should stay here." Tar said to him. He shook his head.

"I mean it, Legolas." Tar hesitated slightly, then sighed. "Don't tell Ancalimë I said anything. She never speaks of it, but we've been here before. Her daughter was kidnapped and killed by orcs two years ago, and I saw the damage they had done. I will never forget it."

"But you did all you could for her." Legolas argued stubbornly. "You made sure to give her the honour they never did. Am I right?"

Tar looked like he wanted to say something, but one look at his face and he could find no other argument. They went on.

For hours they looked around the hill, growing more desperate by the second. Eventually, Elladan found some boot-marks halfway up the steepest part of the slope, almost buried in long grass. It looked as if their owner had been dragged. Legolas traced his fingers along them softly.

"They end here." He said perplexedly. His voice was shaky, and he could barely breathe. This could not be the end. He would not allow it. "They must go somewhere."

The growing terror of the men around him was infectious. Legolas clutched at the hair at the back of his head, letting his tears overtake him.

"Ness!" he shouted, almost in despair. The others looked around at him and took up his call.

"Ness!"

"Nesseldë!"

"NESS!"

After a while they abandoned even that fruitless attempt. Aragorn and Legolas strode towards each other and not knowing what to do, both sunk to the ground, locked together in grief. Legolas gasped, unmoving in the arms of his friend. His Ness, the first woman he had dared to love, was but a memory now, a fading summer's day. Aragorn was shaking too, his tears dampening his braided hair. For once, the steady ranger had lost control.

However, Halbarad held out a hand suddenly. "Quiet! I can hear something."

There was the sound of jeering laughter. Somebody shouted "Take out the gag! They've gone and abandoned her!"

Legolas stood slowly, looking across in amazement at the others, his tears dried by the wind. He turned his face to the westering sun and closed his eyes, murmuring a prayer into the breeze. Please.

The voices seemed to be coming from within the hill itself. Suddenly, with the moment so near, he was frozen in place, paralysed by fear. What if this was some cruel trick?

Aragorn stood too, whirling around in a circle, desperate to see where the noise came from. "Ness?" He shouted once more. There was ringing silence for a moment, then:

"Aragorn! Natho!" (S: Help)

Legolas' knees gave way. They had found her at last.

A.M.