Legacy of the Dispossessed {DISCONTINUED}

The Pass of Caradhras

The weather steadily became colder even as we headed south. As I had predicted, we were making for the Gap of Rohan. Winter was approaching, and we wanted to be in Eregion by the time the worst of the storms set.

We had taken a rest for the afternoon. Sam was cooking a meal while Boromir taught Merry and Pippin how to handle their swords, exactly. Frodo was with Sam, and Aragorn sat smoking his pipe, watching the hobbits' antics. I also watched then from a higher vantage point on the rocks, a smile just barely playing on my lips. I had found myself smiling more than ever after meeting the hobbits.

"Move your feet," I heard Aragorn offer some advice to the hobbits. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Reflexively, I whirled around, sword unsheathed. It was Legolas, backing away with his hands by his shoulders, a frightened expression on his face. My sharp stance visibly sagged with relief.

"S-sorry," I stammered. Valar, that's not like me. "I... have been rather jumpy for the past five years or so."

"I didn't mean to startle you," Legolas replied evenly. "May I...?" He gestured to the rock. I shifted over to make room for him.

"I haven't seen you for a while," he said. When was the last time I had met him? Had to be at least a thousand years ago. Not a long time for me, but he was barely three thousand years.

"I've been busy," I replied stiffly. He arched an eyebrow curiously. "In the East. There's trouble past the Sea of Rhûn."

"Trouble?"

I stared straight ahead, imagining I could see over the Misty Mountains and into the East. Valar, I wished I didn't have to go there again. "Sauron is growing more powerful." Legolas flinched at my open use of the name, as did many others. I believed that by treating the name with fear, we are tightening the Lord's hold on us. If we are so afraid that we can't say his name out loud, then we have already lost. "He is recruiting Men, Easterlings, with promises of rich payment and the ruin of Gondor."

"If the East has been turned, then the Lonely Mountain soon will fall." He paused. "And Mirkwood afterward." I turned and studied his face. I could tell he loved his home, even though Dol Guldur had rotted it. Legolas's hands went to the knives strapped to his back. I studied the patterns on their hilt in wonder. I'd seen this pattern only once before.

"We carry some famous blades, you know," I said distractedly. Legolas's hand left his quiver and he turned sharply towards me. "Aragorn has Narsil, though he does not use it. My Ringil." I touch the pommel of clear crystal at my side. "Mithrandir's sword, Glamdring, was the sword of Turgon. Frodo's Sting was wielded by Idril Celebrindal and the Barrow-blades that the hobbits have were used by the nobility of the Noldor. And your knives" -I gestured towards his quiver- "belonged to King Thingol."

Legolas gasped. "Thingol? King of Doriath?"

"Aye. He gave them to his son Dior, who must have given them to Oropher before Doriath fell." Legolas remained silent in awe.

"I never guessed..." I smiled faintly. The smile was erased from my lips as I spotted what seemed to be a cloud on the horizon. I leaped to my feet. Legolas did likewise. No.

"What is that?" I heard Sam say from below, pointing up at the seeming cloud.

"Nothing, just a wisp of cloud," Gimli replied.

"It's moving fast... against the wind..." said Boromir as he got up from being tackled by the hobbits. I nodded urgently at Legolas. He leaped to the top of a large rock.

"Crebain!" he shouted. "From Dunland!"

"Hide!" I yelled back at the company as I dashed down to take my pack. I shoved it under a scrap of bush and dragged Pippin, who was staring at the flock in wonder, in a tangle of brush with Legolas.