The climb from the Hollin side up the Redhorn Pass had been a struggle to keep away from the sheer drop to the right; but at the peak, the pass met one of Carrot-thras's brothers and became a narrow cleft with cliffs rising above on either side, and remained thus all the way down, which made the way much easier and less fraught. By time the path leveled and neared a broad, dark lake, two days later, we were so tired that I could not remember the last time either me or Miss Adri had spoken a word. The sun was still high as we reached the lakeside, though by some trick of the light, the stars shone in its still surface though the sky was blue and bereft of them. I looked to her, and she to me, and without speaking, we agreed to set up camp early.
And wise a choice it was, for when the dawn greeted us, we both felt far the merrier. Even the horses had a new spring in their step. For the first time since those early days of the journey in the Lone-lands, Miss Adri and I fell to talking, merrily, our thoughts full of hope. We spoke about the road ahead, and our joyful anticipation of wonders that we had long awaited seeing, of what we hoped might come of our visits, and what would be back home on our return. She told me more about her purpose in the Mark, and of someone she hoped to find there, or find word of; and she shared what tales she had heard of the Golden Wood, what we might expect there, and how we might be received. I spoke more of the Mark, and of my relatives we would meet, especially of my aunts in Woodhurst, and we resumed our efforts at the teaching of the language of the Eorlingas. In the afternoon I caught sight of a fat grouse, and we had a break from Bottle Cakes that night as we camped near the first of the trees with golden leaves.
I woke to the sight of an arrow's tip. I rose very slowly, and found that all around our camp, standing silent sentinel as still as the trees themselves, a half-dozen Elves waited, all with arrows at us. Kestrel was eyeing me reproachfully, or perhaps apologetically, while the other horses contentedly grazed, Elves standing beside them.
"We have not entered the wood yet, have we?" I asked as calmly as I could. Though I had known something like this was inevitable, still, my heart raced.
"Your path can lead nowhere else," replied the tall Elf before me, his eyes hard as spear-points and his hand as motionless as if he had been carved from one of the trees beside him.
"True 'nuff," I admitted.
I glanced to Adriellyn, as if to ask her to intervene, but the Elf shook his head. "You will answer the question I put to you," he said firmly, and Adriellyn stayed silent. "What is your intent?"
"I got a leaf for to show, may I get it from my pocket?" I were worried as it might seem like I was reaching for my sword. I don't know if he answered; perhaps he nodded and my eyes didn't sense the movement. I slowly moved my hand inside my tunic pocket and drew out the leaf, then held it up.
"Where did you get that?" he asked. His voice was as even and still as ever, but it seemed sharp, like how the still surface of a deep river still shows you, without the slightest ripple of movement, of its strong and swift current below.
"It were given me by an Elf of your kindred, name of Maedhar, after hearing my tale," I answered. "He thunk as I should visit to learn of what wisdom your kind keep about the quest I were sent on."
The Elves were silent a few moments, and their gaze did not waver, but I still had the sense they were conferring in whispers I could neither hear nor even see. Then they spoke in Sindarin a few moments, or leastwise I think it were Sindarin, it sounded like to what Miss Adriellyn spoke sometimes. And what she started to speak a few moments later, when the Elf turned to her and asked, "What about you?" and she replied in their tongue. They remained impassive as wooden carvings, but I thought I felt some surprise in the way they didn't react.
They talked a while. Partway through, she drew out a carved leaf like to mine, but not exact like; it had the same craftsmanship and beauty but it were a carving of a leaf from a different sort of tree, maybe one of the trees of Imladris, though I can't say as I knew for sure. After a time, they all, at once, relaxed their bows, though they didn't un-nock the arrows, and after a few more things they said in their tongue, Miss Adri said to me, "They's goin' take us into their... city I reckons be th' bes' word, bu' we gotta wear blin'folds. Kinda silly, bu' rules is rules, I reckons, an' these guards din' make 'em."
"All right, but how do we guide the horses if we can't see the path?" I asked. The thought of disagreeing with the blindfold didn't cross my mind. When you're in someone else's home, you follow the rules of that home, just as Miss Adri had said.
"They will follow us," the Elf said in a haughty manner what rubbed me the wrong way. Might be as most horses would, but I weren't so sure as Kestrel was quite the ordinary horse they imagined.
"You hear that, Kestrel?" I said in Rohirric. "You follow him." Kestrel whinnied and tossed his mane in a way I don't remember him ever doing afore that, and I didn't rightly know what to take it as meaning, but then they was bringing a blindfold to secure around my eyes, and that were that.
