The Forgotten Elf - 4

Mounting my dark black stead, I go ahead of Aragorn, far ahead so as not to be noticed. It would not do for them to be seen with some mysterious woman leading them away from the rest of the men. Slipping into the dark long road to Dimholt, I wait for the others; I wait for Aragorn to lead us.

Slowly they catch up and Aragorn passes me with a nod and smile, Legolas and Gimli following tightly behind. I catch a look of distrust, evident on Gimli’s scowling face quite the opposite of Legolas’ look of disbelief and wonder.

I follow behind Legolas’ white horse, keeping an eye on our surroundings and listening out for any offending sounds. There is nothing. The only sound is the gentle clip-clop clip-clop of the horses hooves colliding with the dust road, echoing along the high rock walls of the mountain with an almost ghost like emptiness.

‘What kind of army would linger in such a place?’ Gimli asks quietly, as if speaking at a normal volume might awaken some unspoken evil.

‘One that is cursed’ Legolas replies softly. ‘Long ago, the Men of the Mountains swore an oath to the last king of Gondor, to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor’s need was dire they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge’ he explained.

As an eerie whisper comes from a dark path as Aragorn raises his right hand to tell us to stop our horses. Quietly he dismounts his horse them comes over to me to help me down, always the gentlemen, even when war is near. On foot we walk towards the doorway, Aragorn’s sword held in defence.

‘The very warmth of my blood seems stole away’ Gimli says in a hushed tone as he raises his axe.

‘The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. and the dead keep it. The way is shut’ Legolas reads from the symbols above the doorway. A loud exhalation comes from inside and the horses neigh in fear before cantering away.

‘Tultâ ndan Eruheran’ I call after my horse, only to be disobeyed.

‘Brego!’ Aragorn calls after his horse, also being disobeyed. Turning to face the doorway he stares into the blackness. ‘I do not fear death’ he states before walking into the darkness.

Together Legolas and I turn to follow him, me going first. ‘Well this is a thing unheard-of’ we hear Gimli say from outside, ‘An Elf will go underground, where a Dwarf dare not? Oh. I’d never hear the end of it.’

‘A little light?’ Aragorn asks.

‘I’m sorry did you ask for something, I didn’t hear you ask for something’ I reply.

‘Seloriel!’

‘Yes?’ I reply innocently.

‘May I please have some light?’

‘Well as you asked so nicely…’ I grab a piece of branch that seems to have been swept in by the wind and, giving it to Aragorn, make it become our torch.