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legolas and arador
 

 

Part 15

Confident that Eowyn was safe—for the time being, at least—Legolas slung his bow across his back, climbed down the Ambenn Rocks, and ran lightly across the valley floor, passing the humans without drawing any attention to himself.

He had no idea where Arador might be, but the building that the cart had been left beside seemed a good place to start looking—especially since, on closer inspection, he noticed that its windows were sealed with stout, wooden shutters and its door closed with a heavy bolt, as though someone might be confined inside.

Crouching in the shadow of the nearest shed, Legolas looked for a way in.

The building’s drystone walls were sturdy, but its slate roof was in poor repair, and had a hole in it that looked large enough for an Elf to slip through.

Legolas ran across the open space and leaped, clambered easily up the wall and onto the roof, and swung himself through the gap—

Oh!” cried a startled voice and, as Legolas landed on one of the tie beams, a tall, dark figure fell from it, and hit the earthen floor with a dull thud.

Legolas dropped to the ground beside him.

“Lord Legolas,” gasped Arador, winded, but grinning broadly. “You got my message, then!”

...

Legolas took the Elven rope from his belt, and threw one end up over the beam.

“I have lost count of the number of times I have tried to escape,” said Arador, tying the other end around his waist. “But the gap between the beam and the hole is just too wide for me to jump. That is why I bribed Loveric to take the message to you.”

“I never got it,” said Legolas.

Arador sighed. “I should have known I could not trust him. That is my grandmother’s ring gone for nothing.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, my Lord, as ready as I will ever be.”

Legolas hauled on the rope, and helped the young man climb—up the stone footing, up the thick wooden post, until he had got one leg over the beam, and could sit astride it.

“Stow the rope,” said Legolas; he shinned up the post. “I will go through the hole first, then help you across.”

Arador nodded. “You know” he said, coiling the rope around his forearm, “my father has never liked Ma Everill. They say she was an absolute stunner when she was young—well, you can sort of see that, can you not?—so I’ve always wondered if he—”

“Who is Ma Everill?” asked Legolas, jumping from the beam, catching hold of one of the purlins, hanging, then pulling himself up through the the hole.

She is the boss,” said Arador, “the one running this place, and making the blue. She wanted me to help her, but—well—the blue itself does no real harm, of course, but making it...”

Legolas’ upper half reappeared in the hole. “Take my hands,” he said.

Arador tucked the rope in his belt, and reached across the void.

 

 
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