The dark elf was drinking from a brook when he heard a noise. Rûdhchamion listened intently, he knew it was coming several yards behind the group of trees from where he was. Keeping low, he grabbed his bow beside him and silently headed for a nearby brushwood.
His curiosity arouse, he adjusted his bow behind him and headed precautiously towards the large tree. Looking up, he spotted a branch that he decided would fit his purpose. Being use to living in high talans among trees, he was quite agile (yet silent) jumping up and positioning himself where he could stay hidden among the leaves and intertwining branches.
He saw a band of elves and several men. The men were dressed in the same manner as those he was pursuing, in hope that it would lead him to an orc encampment. He had lost their trail two days back when he was forced to conceal himself from another group of elves. He had wanted to reveal himself, yet he’d had several dealings with his race that were not so friendly to strangers, though he was of their kind. Thus, he had hesitated.
The tall, fair elf that was speaking seemed to be the leader. He then noticed another hidden figure in the shadows of the trees. When the elves left with the men, taking them prisoner, he waited still. The leader addressed the hidden figure.
A female elf came out. She seemed hesitant. But Legolas spoke kindly to her.
He stayed hidden in the tree, pondering. He looked around, feeling both at home yet out of place. Greenwood the Great, it was aptly named. Yet he could feel the change.
Thranduil. He had heard his father and uncles speak that name before. And other names, too, he recalled. But he had never planned on travelling this way until the raid on his people. His mother had spoken of the west and the sea. But the sea's beckoning was now distant compared to the revenge he felt that burnt in his heart.
[ March 17, 2002: Message edited by: Thalionyulma ]
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