He had been gone for too long. He knew that the others must be wondering by now where he was, but the task needed to be finished.
He had started out when dusk had fallen, a grey-green shadow flitting amongst the trees, unnoticed by man and beast. Silently he had walked the path ahead of his group of travelers, intent on seeing what dangers lay ahead of them, for he would not have them walk blindly into some peril unlooked-for. His prowess as a hunter would not allow it, and if he was to blame for endangering his friends and harm should find them, he would never forgive himself. He had guilt enough to carry.
As he stalked from tree to tree, constantly wary of what was around him, he held his great bow, strung and ready to be fired if the need arose. His ancient sword and long knife were at his side, sheathed in his belt and there was an elegant quiver of arrows on his back.
Not long after they had entered Eregion and were on their way to the site that Belegos had chosen for their camp that night, they had encountered a band of half-orcs. Great, ugly goblin-men. He had not told his companions, but this had alarmed Belegos, for these were the minions of Saruman, the wizard who had fallen into folly, and he had seen them before, yet never this far North. They had been dispatched easily enough, for they were not skilled in combat and indeed Estarfin seemed to relish the opportunity of the fight. It had been because of this that Belegos felt the need to scout ahead, for if these half-orcs felt brazen enough to venture this far, then he wondered what else may be ahead. The odd troll had been spotted in the woods of Eregion, though these were exceeding rare, and rumours abounded of lone travellers being attacked by the very trees! Yet Belegos had never seen anything to make him believe in them. He had, of course, heard of the Onodrim of Fangorn, but that they should have spread as far as Eregion? It seemed doubtful to him.
No, the chief danger in these parts were brigands, those who now scratched a living from looting the ruins of the Elves; for every now and then, a treasure of a past age could be unearthed and fenced for a tidy sum of silver. But these brigands did not limit themselves only to the ruins, for if they came across a lone traveller, or a small group, one such as Belegos', they would set upon them, strip them of their belongings and leave them on the side of the road, alive or dead.
Yet Belegos and his friends were no mere travellers, for they were Noldor for the most part, and practiced in war. It would be an unfortunate band of robbers that happened upon them. Belegos allowed himself a smirk at the thought of it. Even the wise and graceful Rainith when in a rage was terrifying. Nevertheless, Belegos would rather that he did not lead them into a camp of outlaws, for there were still only five of them and even Noldor could be overwhelmed.
The path he had walked had been quiet, and now the light had faded so that all was black in the night. He was slowly making his way South towards Echad Eregion, where he knew of some elves that still kept a small encampment there. It was not much, but there they would be able to stable their horses, for now the snows lay over the mountain passes and they would have to make the journey on foot. He planned that they would return there to pick them up on the return journey, but doubt clouded his mind as to when that would be. If he was asked the truth, he believed that they would not all return after their task was done, if any of them came back at all, but when the thought began to take shape in his mind, he would force it out and replace it with brighter things; Tashdel, the sunrise over the Echoriath or imagining Rainith walking Caradhras bare-foot.
He had told her that her toes would blacken and she would forever lose their use due to the cold, but she brushed his advice aside and had simply told him that she never wore shoes. Belegos was certain she must have packed some so instead was content to wait until she had suffered enough to give in. That small victory would be his eventually.
*****
The hunter was satisfied. He had made the trip to Echad Eregion without any incident and had conversed for a small time with the band of elves there. They had told him that the further South that one wished to travel, the more dangerous it was these days. Saruman, they continued, had been pushing further and further North and there was no power in these lands to resist him. What Elves did remain were scattered and leaderless and the Dwarves were to blinded by their father's treasures that lay in Moria to notice the goings on outside. Yet the path to the mountain was quiet, so he had been told and they should expect no trouble.
Stabling for the five horses he had arranged, and that they would be able to replenish their supplies on their arrival. This pleased Belegos, for the others would take heart at receiving more food just before the arduous climb into the Hithaeglir. It was difficult enough at this time of year, and morale would need to be kept high.
Belegos had set off back to his campsite at sunset and covered the miles more swiftly than he had done the previous day, for his heart was lighter, yet now night had fallen some hours ago and he was nearing his friends.
As he got closer, he could make out their fire in the distance and a great, black, looming shadow which he assumed was the huge boulder they had set down next to. Three shapes he could make out around the fire. One was broad across the shoulders and sat side-on to Belegos. It was unmistakably Estarfin. Opposite him was Parnard and Belegos thought he could see him rooting in his pack for something. Danel seemed to be lying on the ground and Belegos looked about them for Rainith. He could see her, like a shadow between the trees, on her watch, yet she had not seen him. He chuckled to himself and quickened his pace, making for the boulder.
Slowly, and silently, he scaled the Western-side of the rock. He lay flat on his stomach and dragged himself along like a serpent until he could look down upon his companions and hear their voices, but only Parnard spoke, though at times he seemed rather to talk to himself rather than anyone listening.
Danel was asleep, a look of contentment on her face, ever beautiful. Her auburn hair seemed to drink the fire-light and shine forth with reds and golds.
Estarfin sat with his back against the stone. He seemed to shift uneasily, and his eyes flicked from the fire to Parnard, who was stitching something. Belegos could not make out what, just a fabric thick with a mass of colours. He studied it for a moment longer, and when he could not discern anything of the embroidery, he slid his legs over the edge of the boulder and jumped. It was no more than ten feet high and he landed gracefully next to Estarfin. The warrior did not jump or exclaim, only smiled. Parnard though, sprang to his feet in alarm. He pointed his finger at Belegos, stammering over his words. A look of confusion, anger and fear appeared on his face and remained standing, and pointing, at Belegos long after the hunter had taken a seat next to Estarfin. Danel's eyes stayed shut. "I was beginning to wonder about you," Estarfin told him with a raised brow.
"Me? I am here, and all is well it seems," said Belegos, pulling down his hood. At that moment, Rainith emerged out of the darkness, an expression of surprise on her face upon seeing Belegos. "I did not see you return?" She told him and tilted her head. "Parnard, it is your watch." The Mirkwood elf stared blankly at Belegos, his mouth open. He could be an odd fellow. "I will take it, so Master Parnard can finish his..." Belegos gestured toward the linen that hung limply in Parnard's hand. There was no objection, so he stood up and made his way into the gloom, brushing past Rainith as he did so and flashing her an almost indiscernible wink. Her face screwed, and he laughed to himself.
Perhaps he wouldn't have to wait so long for that little victory after all.
