The sun set quickly behind him as the green elf walked down the north side of Weathertop. The half moon gave just enough light for his keen eyes to see each rock as he hopped down the slope with the grace of a master woodsman. His trained horse remained silently chewing grass where he was left untied and unbridled. Eldoriian clicked his teeth and leaped up in one swoop as the horse lifted his head and started its march back up.
From the top of the old watchtower Amon Sûl, the elf could easily just spot out a dozen fires in the dying daylight, and mentally mapped a path to avoid them and the Great East Road to his south. He road the horse slower in the night. They had only stopped two other times so far. He had left yesterday afternoon from Arrowhaven with urgent word from Lady Alkawen for Hir Elrond Halfelven. It concerned these fires, and the dark men who clustered around them.
Eldoriian quickly pulled up the reins and stood motionless, his head close enough to his horse's neck he could hear its heart beat. A long moment passed and he heard a gasp followed by a stream of warm liquid stream onto a tree not ten meters from him. The man hadn't noticed him. He heard cloth rustle as he pulled up his trousers and brush snap under his feet as he returned toward a nearby camp site. Eldoriian counted six more counts before urging his horse back on his planned route.
It continued this way most of the night. He would hit a stretch of a mile or more between sets of camps and cover ground quick, until he was forced to slow and avoid detection from the night watch. It was only moments after dawn began to creep over the distant horizon that Eldoriian took a breath of relief on hearing the Mitheithel. Here he found a cluster of trees near the bank of the mighty river. Here he planned to rest his steed until dusk.
He rested until early afternoon by the passing of the sun when he awoke and didn't move. He could feel something, or rather someone, looking for him.. Eldoriian had lived for thousands of years in a forest of Harlindon, so he always traveled light and without things like a bedroll. Brush rustled out of his grove as a rabbit sprinted out toward the river. An expert arrow whistled and hit its mark as a tan skinned man let out a cheer. The Laiquendi had never before seen a man like this. His face was distorted, though his body was toned with similar muscle he had seen on many archers who had held a bow all their lives. He picked up the Rabbit and began skinning it expertly where it had died.
Eldoriian slowed his breath to almost a complete still as he held his own bow unstrung, more nervous now than he ever remembered. He knew he was still more skilled training millennia with his arrows, but he could not just kill this man and run. The dark skinned Atani was skilled enough someone would miss him sooner rather than later and know someone had been here.
Eldoriian swung the bow onto his back and grabbed the mane of his mount to guide him silently. The horse was well disciplined and did not resist. The broke out the grove of trees north away from the hunter. The bank was steepening here and he knew he wouldn't be able to cross if he went further. He leaped down the bank five feet and the water splashed too loud when his horse hobbled down behind him. It was easy to hear the wind with his keen ears as the hunter dropped his rabbit and raced toward the river. Eldoriian swung around and laced his bow in one effortless movement. His arrow was notched and already in motion to release as the man peaked upon the bluff above him.
There was not time to dodge. The arrow pierced through his gaped mouth and lodged through his skull before a sound could even be screamed. The body splashed into the water. Eldoriian flipped it onto his horse and walked them over to the far bank. He retrieved the man's bow, dropped where he died, and also went back to the rabbit and knife. No evidence could be around. He strapped the bow to himself with his bow and placed everything else the hunter had with him in his horse pack. Then he hid into the woods and mountains known as the Trollshaws.
The road was not a hundred meters south of him, so Eldoriian proceeded with caution. He had to walk his horse, still carrying the dead passenger. He knew they had to dispose of the body somewhere, but it had to be further away from danger. It wasn't an hour before he smelled a scent of ash lingering in the wind. His horse stayed on command, turning to a patch of grass. If the stories of the region were true, this could be just his path to dumping the body.
As Eldoriian crept near, he heard a voice. "Mutton. Mutton. Yum Yum." A spit lay over the fire, and the lone troll was chewing on a leg bone not long from life. The elf doubled back and hefted the human remains over his shoulder. He walked it to a small shrubbery less than a hundred meters from the troll. Then he set the trap.
Eldoriian got up close again to the fire clearing. Then he made noise. And ran. Not too fast, but with enough speed and noise the troll could track him. The ground shook as the troll leapt up and chased the noise of his new prey. He threw first one rock and then a second. It was all Eldoriian needed to effortlessly dodge each slow projectile and get one close to the body. Then he went switched back to silent steps and watched as the troll excitedly picked up the hunter's corpse and dragged it back to his barbeque. As Eldoriian tracked back to his horse, he heard echoes of chuckling and chanting as the troll prepared his new main course.
Elrond sat awake in the Hall of Fire when Eldoriian was lead in by the night guard on the fifth night since leaving the monastery of the Order. They exchanged renewed greetings and sat listening to the fire crackle. A few minutes passed before a silent maiden came in and placed a warm plate of food for each of the two. Elrond summoned a bound book from his robe and placed it next to the other Elf. "Elo! Le hannon. Man ta?" (Wow! Thank you. What is it?) Elrond nodded silently. The cover read in Sindarin: Hobbits, a Short Tale.
The elves finished their meal, though he could tell Elrond was eating more to be polite. His food had come in a much smaller portion. Eldoriian began. "Auth tôl. Anno dulu ammen naur Mitheithel. Odog Echor garo chûr an ndagor. Dum telir raef." (War is coming. Support is needed near the Hoarwell River. The Order of the Seven need your help to trap the evil ones.) Elrond paused only a moment, but that moment stretched in perspective.
"Le vellon nîn an-uir, Laiquendi. Ni sí le annad dulu in auth. Trenaro Alkawen tolo enni." (You will always be my friend, green elf. I will help in the fight, but you must ask Alkawen to visit me.) He pushed the book closer to Eldoriian. "Hebo hen un garo 'lass. Boe i bedil, nadirio hortho." (Take and read this. It is yours to enjoy. You must go now with all caution and speed.)
Eldoriian stood, placing the book in his cloak pocket. The two embraced as Elves of Mithlond would. "Nan lû govaded vîn. Le hannon. Farad vaer." (Farewell until we meet again. Thank you again. Good hunting.) The green elf spoke his good bye and left Imladris without escort. His horse had been fed and brushed and was ready for the journey home.
Time passed quickly on the trip back. Eldoriian saw no signs of trouble and was able to keep close to the road and make good time. When he neared the Mitheithel he slowed and began looking hard for signs of the men of the east. It took him an hour to find evidence they had been camped at all. A patch of burnt ash on a log was still present in one site that wasn't completely cleaned. He found a partial boot print under a leaf that hadn't washed away. They had left days ago and it appeared they were moving north.
Eldoriian shuddered. Evil was here and it was more dangerous than he had feared. He knew the Order must be warned. He jumped up onto his horse, and raced for the road and back to Bree-land. The enemy was on the move and they must be stopped.
