[Child of the 7th Age]

Finishing up his discussion with Elentari, Lenwe put down a light meal of bread and ale, then hastily trotted out towards the stable with a duffel slung across his back. He carefully tied the bag onto the saddle and tightened the horse's girth as well as tucking in a number of scrolls that should help them find their way along the twisted and perilous mountain paths. The companions filtered in a few at a time, collecting their gear for the journey and taking a moment to nod or extend their hand in greetings to acknowledge the newcomer in their midst.

Other than that, the stableyard was quiet. The casual banter and joking that usually marked the start of each day was conspicuously absent. Everyone seemed to be lost in their own musings, weighing the dangers of the road or trying to guess what chance the band had to reach the hidden lair, best the mighty wyrm and actually rescue the hostages.

Lenwe was no exception. He sprinted forward, caught hold of Falir's mane and gracefully threw his leg over the horse's back, all the while wondering why he had ever agreed to be part of such a foolhardy errand. His keen eyes caught the distant movement of the swan ship in the harbor as she unfurled her sleek white sails and Elves began to stream on board, turning around and waving their goodbyes to folk waiting on the quay. He should be down there, he mused. Yes, he should be the one leaning against the railing and saying his farewells to Middle-earth, then sailing on to a land of peace and beauty. For a moment he felt an irrational urge to spur his mount onward down towards the harbor, and come clattering up the gangplank just before the ship slipped her moorings and sailed.

But something inside held him back. It seemed that everywhere he looked, things were becoming more difficult for those remaining here. Not just for his own people, but for Men and Dwarves as well. Shadows of darkness and intimations of evil kept rearing their heads at the most unlikely times. This attack by cold drakes, both this one and others, seemed to be but the latest omen in a whole string of untoward events. Lenwe had no idea what was behind all these things, but it was hard to believe they weren't related somehow.

The easy thing to do was to turn his back and sail to Valinor. But was this the right thing? He had certain small skills as a scout and could find his way almost anywhere in Middle-earth. He was also reputed to be a wonderful teacher. Just lately, he'd gotten a request from King Thraindul, Lord of the Woodland Realm, to come east and teach tracking skills to some of the younger folk, including his own son Legolas. At first, he'd dismissed that request out of hand, only intent on setting sail to the West.

But just maybe, he would be doing his people more good by staying here and trying to pass on some of his skills as a scout to younger Elves like Legolas rather than simply turning his back on the hardship and strife. He vowed to carry out his promise to Elentari and to think more carefully about where his true path lay.

As the band filed out the stableyard heading towards the foothills and past the waiting ships, Lenwe glanced down at the harbor and laughed. Maybe there was some purpose in this madness, and it was up to him to find it. He spurred his horse onward, coming abreast of Elentari, turning to flash a broad smile at her. "Win or lose, we'll give this beast a taste of his own medicine! Come quickly on and up. We have much ground to cover." With this, the company reached the first of the foothills, and disappeared around the bend. The town was lost behind them as they looked ahead at the great looming peaks of the ancient Ered Luin.

[ July 03, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]