...And Complete Surrender

EDIT: It was pointed out to me that I actually spelt Hrivo's name wrong the entire way through this, so that has now been changed. It was Hivro, but is actually meant to be Hrivo. The pronunciation mentioned last chapter still stands.

As promised, here is the second part to the previous chapter! I was out competing with Tom yesterday, the last event of the season (it gets too wet and cold to keep going through the winter, and the horses need a break) and it was our first competition at a higher level. We did pretty well- had a good dressage, a pole down show jumping and then a really nice round cross country- had a few time penalties, but everyone did. Tom absolutely loved it, and had a great time. Also, there was wood fired pizza there, which was amazing!

As I mentioned before, this is more angsty than the previous part. For those who haven't read that bit (chapter 3) basically, Hrivo is Legolas' horse, and this takes place sometime during the Watchful Peace. Hrivo is older now- there's a bit of a time jump. Also, and this is important: at some point a horse dies. It's not graphically described, but it does happen. I actually saw this happen, once- a horse on the yard completely panicked, reared up repeatedly, and then fell down, cracking her head on the concrete.

In this same part, I whump Belhadron fairly badly- I don't mean to be so horrible to him, it just happens! As this story shows snapshots only, it might be a little unclear what happens to him afterwards, so I will tell you here: obviously, as he turns up later on in terms of the timeline, he is fine. If you want to skip this part, or read it particularly carefully, then I will bold the little thing just before the part starts like this-

0-o-0-o-0

It's fairly obvious that my life is deeply entrenched with horses, and though it does take up a lot of my time (and money!) I do love it, and I am going to go on about it a bit here. There's nothing more incredible than riding: it is the only sport where an individual is comprised of two different minds, neither of which can understand each other properly. You need a surprising amount of strength to work with half a tonne of animal that may suddenly decide that it doesn't want to do what you want it to. It's really dangerous, and it takes ages to improve, because you are trying to do twice the work- improve yourself, and improve the horse at the same time.

But then you get these moments, amongst all the hard work and sweat and literal blood and tears, where everything clicks. You suddenly can see everything, understand that if you turn your body just so, then you can move the horse in precisely this way, that their hooves will land exactly where you want them to land. The best way that I can describe it is that I feel like a puppeteer- one tiny touch, and I can change everything. Those moments, where I am in complete harmony with this strange animal underneath me, where we are working truly together, those are the moments I ride for.

It's sort of one of those things you might not be able to understand unless you ride, but that is the basis of why I risk my life pointing Tom at really large solid objects and telling him to jump them. And if you are reading this, and do ride, then I immediately have great respect for you, and though I may have no idea who you are, we are part of the same insane group.

As always, reviews are very welcome.

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.

0-o-0-o-0

The sound of thundering hooves filled the morning air, cutting across the damp patter of rain and the occasional murmur of the last of the autumn winds. In the clearing the grass was glistening in the weak sun breaking in places through the thick grey cloud.

Legolas shifted his body and Hrivo turned, curving around the pole that had been set at one end of the clearing. For a brief moment his hooves slipped in the wet grass, but he plunged forwards and straightened up, charging forwards in the other direction. Legolas leant down to one side and, with the long white knife in his hand, shattered one of the clay balls that had been set up in a line down the clearing.

Hrivo snorted and jumped sideways, but Legolas moved with him. He sat back, and with a touch to Hrivo's neck pulled him up to a walk.

Another elf, sitting on a small red charger, trotted over. "It's not a bad idea, that they've had," she said. "But I don't like using the clay balls."

Legolas nodded in agreement, and ran one hand down Hrivo's neck. "There's a chance of injury when they shatter," he said. "We can switch them out to apples or something, if we really need to. But how useful will it actually be for training?"

The elf shrugged. "We can set some of the novices to it," she replied. They were testing a new training technique that one of the horse masters had come up with, after a particularly bad patrol where they had lost three horses and two elves. The elf's red charger made to sniff Hrivo, and Legolas grinned as he pulled Hrivo's head away.

"You know that's a bad idea," he told his horse. "You think you will like them, and it always ends with bared teeth." He looked over at the other elf. "Anything else that needs trialling?"

"I don't think so, my Lord," said the other elf. "We can hand this over to the trainers. I'll see them about it now."

Legolas nodded, and as the rain started up once more they headed back inside, Hrivo swishing his tail to catch both of the elves with water droplets. Legolas laughed, and then pushed Hrivo forwards as the other elf tried to get revenge.

The next day, Legolas was leant against the fence to Hrivo's paddock, watching the training technique in practice. A few of the novices had already fallen off, and were now splattered in mud, grass stains over clothes. Their instructor was, at the moment, berating them for not paying close enough attention, and his voice was loud enough to carry over to where Legolas was watching, and hoping he wouldn't get called over.

He was in luck. The instructor sent the novices off once more on their horses, and Legolas chuckled as one horse decided he would rather not, and rooted himself to the spot. The volume of the instructor's voice rose once more.

There was a soft snort from behind him, and then Legolas was pushed forwards as Hrivo decided to itch his head on Legolas' shoulder. Legolas chuckled, pushing Hrivo's nose away, but his horse was adamant. Soon Legolas' tunic was covered in fine white hairs.

"You are a menace," he said, tugging at one of Hrivo's ears. Hrivo's expression turned grumpy, and he pulled his head away. Legolas, by now very used to his horse's attitude, merely smiled, and turned back to watch in time to see yet another novice go too fast and fall off into the mud.

Legolas kept himself from laughing, but it was a close thing. The elf got up, trying to brush the mud off of themselves, and Legolas did grimace at that. After all, he had been there before many times over the years, and it had become somewhat commonplace with Hrivo.

The instructor was now telling the novices something, and it seemed important, because he wasn't shouting it. Legolas listened in.

"Trust in your horse," the instructor was saying. "What we are doing here goes against every one of your instincts. You have to overcome them, and learn that your horse will carry you through, if you let it."

Hrivo snorted at Legolas' shoulder, as if in agreement. Legolas nodded slightly. The instructor had told him something similar, centuries ago. Hrivo nudged his shoulder, and Legolas chuckled.

"He's right," he murmured, catching Hrivo's muzzle in one hand. Hrivo promptly tried to lick it, and Legolas grinned. "But you are still a menace."

0-o-0-o-0

Hrivo snorted nervously, and with the hand that wasn't pressing a wadded up cloak to his side, Legolas reached out and scratched his nose reassuringly. The grey horse pushed his muzzle into Legolas' hand, nostrils flaring as he picked up the copper tang of blood that was steadily becoming a little more familiar as the state of the woods deteriorated.

Legolas huffed a laugh, and carefully tried to shift into a more comfortable position without actually moving. "Do not look so worried," he muttered to Hrivo. "It is only a scratch."

"It is a little more than a scratch," came a voice from nearby, and then Belhadron crouched down next to Legolas. He frowned, checking the gash at Legolas' side and the tender bruise beginning to form down one side of his head. "That's going to be impressive tomorrow," he said.

Legolas raised his eyebrows instead of nodding, aware of the dull throbbing at the base of his skull from where he had been knocked into the ground that could easily shift into more. Belhadron shook his head.

"Are you feeling dizzy?"

"A little," murmured Legolas, grimacing as he shifted and the world threatened to spin around him. He held his breath and stayed still, and thankfully the ground returned to where it was meant to be.

"Going to be sick?"

Legolas shook his head ever so slightly. "Don't think so. I cannot promise anything, though."

Belhadron chuckled. "It wouldn't be the first time," he said. He peeled back the cloak at Legolas' side. "The bleeding's nearly stopped," he announced. "But I should get you back to the stronghold sooner rather than later."

"I can't ride on my own," Legolas pointed out with a slight grin. He moved his hand away from his side as Belhadron began to wrap up the wound with a quick field dressing, and reached up to push some of the hair away from his face. The movement sent a wave of dizziness through him suddenly, and he felt himself listing to one side.

Belhadron swiftly caught him. "Liar," he said with a grin. "You are more than a little dizzy. Stay still. I'm nearly done, and then we'll get back."

Legolas didn't trust his body if he nodded, but Belhadron understood him even with the slightest movement, and it hadn't really been up for discussion anyway. He finished tying off the makeshift bandage, and then grasped Legolas' arms. "Up," he instructed, and he tugged the blond elf to his feet.

The world swayed sickeningly around Legolas and he pitched forwards, wincing with clenched teeth at the pull on the cut. Belhadron caught him around the waist and propped him up until he got his breath back. "Still not going to be sick?" he asked.

Legolas chuckled weakly. "Again, I'm not promising anything," he muttered. "Let's just get back."

Hrivo had not gone far, and had been watching their movements with what could be seen as worry. He sniffed at Belhadron as they approached, blowing hot air in the elf's face. Belhadron chuckled. "He's going to be fine, you insufferable animal," he said.

Legolas grinned weakly, and then Belhadron boosted him up onto Hrivo's back. The blond elf swayed, his face paling as Belhadron quickly vaulted up behind him. Hrivo's ears flicked back to them as Belhadron adjusted his seat, one arm coming to circle around Legolas and hold him in place.

Hrivo shifted beneath them, and he seemed uneasy. "I suppose this would be a good time to tell you," murmured Legolas, closing his eyes and resting his head against Belhadron's shoulder. "Hrivo's never carried two people at once before."

Belhadron groaned under his breath. "Of course," he said. "My luck is usually this bad."

Legolas chuckled slightly, and Belhadron nudged Hrivo forwards with his heels, beginning to head back towards the stronghold. "He's a smart horse," muttered Legolas. "He'll work it out soon enough."

"I hope so," said Belhadron with a grimace as he put his leg on and asked Hrivo to move off. They weren't in too much of a rush, for Legolas' injuries were not too bad, but he would prefer to be home sooner rather than later.

"Sometimes you just have to have blind faith," murmured Legolas. Most of the time it was probably not a good idea to trust merely on instinct, because they knew better than most how valuable it was to be prepared and know what they were walking into. But sometimes it ended up that they did not have an option, and then such a blind trust had to be enough.

For the first few minutes Belhadron kept one hand on Hrivo's mane, but he seemed to take to it easily enough. Soon they were cantering quickly through the forest, the cold branches skimming over their heads. Belhadron's arm was wrapped tightly around Legolas' waist, keeping pressure on the cut, and once he trusted Hrivo enough to keep going steadily home, he pulled his cloak so that the edges lay over Legolas as well.

For Legolas, the time passed quickly in a blur of pounding hooves and the occasional murmured word from behind him. In what seemed like a few moments, Hrivo was clattering over the bridge, one of the more secretive entrances to the stronghold that was fairly close to the healer's wards and the stables. Guards were instantly at Hrivo's side, who stood with his head down, breathing hard. Foam flecked his muzzle and shoulders, and his coat was damp with sweat.

Belhadron slid off his back, and propped Legolas up as the blond elf dismounted and swayed slightly. He reached over and patted Hrivo's neck, rubbing his hand along the dappled fur as he tightened his grip on Legolas to keep him upright.

"My thanks," he murmured with a soft smile. Legolas chuckled slightly, and then they were swallowed in the flurry of activity. Belhadron kept Legolas propped up as they staggered towards the entrance, Legolas beginning to lean more and more heavily on him.

Legolas glanced back over his shoulder as they passed through the doors. Hrivo was standing still in the courtyard between the doors and the bridge, his head down. One of the elves there was talking softly to him as they slipped on a halter. There were spatters of blood down his shoulder, and he looked weary, but he still held himself with pride. He looked up and over at Legolas, his ears pricking forwards. Legolas held his gaze for a moment, before he stepped between the doors and his horse vanished from sight.

Outside, Hrivo watched the space where his rider had been for a moment more, before his attention turned to the groom coming over. He lowered his head, sniffing at his pockets, and then allowed himself to be led away.

It was only the next day that Legolas, a bandage under his shirt and a large bruise down one side of his face, made his way down to the paddock where Hrivo was grazing. He whistled, the sound sharp against the still air of winter, and Hrivo wandered over.

He didn't say much at all, only murmur a greeting to his horse as he fed him a handful of sweet oats that he had pocketed on his way down, but he was there for a fair while, sometimes rubbing one hand down Hrivo's face, sometimes merely staying still and watching.

From the corner of the stables, just inside the doors, Thranduil watched Legolas and his horse. He had had his doubts about how well Hrivo would do, given his spirit, but it had served Legolas well over the years. Legolas was by now just as much Hrivo's rider as Hrivo was Legolas' horse.

Thranduil smiled as Legolas briefly rested his head on Hrivo's own. Sometimes, blind trust turned out to be all that was needed.

0-o-0-o-0

Legolas leant his head against the side of the stable wall, and breathed out heavily. "What do you think?" he asked.

The elf crouched down to one side of Hrivo ran his hand down the horses' leg one more time. Hrivo flinched, and his ears flicked back as he shifted uneasily. "It is hard to tell, my Lord," he said. "In the worst scenario, he has damaged the tendon." Legolas grimaced at that, and the elf shook his head.

"It is unlikely," he said quickly. "It is much more likely that the inflammation is due to some sort of impact, or wrenching of the muscle. If it were the tendon, he would move noticeably different, and there would be less swelling." Legolas nodded, and ran a hand over his face. Hrivo shifted his head to look at some noise elsewhere, whacking Legolas on the way. The blond elf chuckled slightly, and briefly caught Hrivo's muzzle with one hand.

"I do think he will come right in a few days, my Lord," said the elf, standing from his position and stretching slightly. "I will keep a watchful eye on him, of course. He obviously cannot be exercised, or taken out of this stable much at all. I will give the grooms something to put in his feed to ease any pain, and wrapping the leg in bandages soaked with water would be a good idea."

Legolas nodded. "I will see to that," he said.

"I have to tell you, my Lord, that it may turn out to be more serious than hoped," said the elf. "If that is the case, then we will see what we can do with what we have. But it may come to it. I cannot be sure."

Legolas nodded. "I know," he said. "I was expecting you to say something akin to that. Nevertheless, thank you for all you have done."

The elf inclined his head. "It is my job, my Lord," he replied. "But I would do it nonetheless. All of us are rather fond of Hrivo." The horse in question butted the elf's pockets for food, and he chuckled. "He is a character, my Lord, and a good horse."

Legolas smiled, though it was tinged with a quiet worry. "I know," he said. "Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."

"Of course, my Lord." The elf bowed, before leaving. The stable door swung shut behind him.

Legolas let out a sigh, and rubbed one hand down Hrivo's face. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

Hrivo looked interested in him for a moment, and then, when it was apparent that there was no food coming immediately, turned his head away. Legolas chuckled slightly, but it was short lived.

Time passed more slowly than usual. The torches were guttering in their brackets when Belhadron walked down through the stables to Hrivo's stall. He leaned over the door.

"I should have known you would be here," he said softly. He threw back the latch and slipped inside. Legolas looked up from where he was sitting, his back against one of the walls. A bucket of cold water, nearly empty, was by his side, along with a few scrolls of parchment, a quill and ink.

Legolas smiled tightly at the sight of his friend. "His leg needs cooling," he said. "I might as well do it." He dipped one hand in the bucket, shifting the bandages around. Hrivo looked up from the back of the stable where he was eating hay. For a moment he watched Belhadron, before the food became more interesting once more and he turned back to it.

"It's not your fault."

Legolas chuckled slightly, but it was short lived. "Am I that obvious?" he asked.

"To me, yes, you are," replied Belhadron, leaning back against the stable door. "You know accidents happen. There is no point feeling guilty over this."

"I pushed him too hard," replied Legolas, not even bothering to pretend he was paying attention to the parchment in his hand anymore. "I should have known it was too fast."

Belhadron shrugged. "And if you hadn't, you might not have got back here in time. It was a small sacrifice for that company's safety, especially if he comes right soon enough."

Legolas grimaced. "I know," he said, with a shake of his head. "And I would do it again in a second. But I cannot help thinking we ask too much of them, sometimes. What do we give them in return for carrying us into battle, for risking their lives at our commands?"

Belhadron whistled softly. "You really do like this horse," he said with a soft grin. "I haven't seen you like this for a while now." Legolas glared half-heartedly at him, and Belhadron's smile faded somewhat.

"We may ask too much, sometimes," he said in reply. "It may be cruel, to take such an animal and teach them that the sound of steel and screams is not something they should run from, but towards. I've thought it before, a few times. I think a lot of us have. But in the end, there is nothing we can, or will, do. It is a sacrifice all of us are entirely willing to make, and you know that. Besides, I do not think Hrivo, or many of the others, would bear us unless they were willing."

He had seen, they both had, the devotion that horses ended up having for their riders. He had seen horses stand over elves that had fallen, waiting stubbornly for someone to help. He had seen ones continue bearing their riders to safety, even though it broke them. He had seen horses that had known when their rider had died, and were never quite the same afterwards.

Legolas smiled softly. "I know," he muttered. "I do."

Belhadron shook his head. "You always did get too attached," he said, as if it were the root of all problems. In some ways, it was.

They did not age. They did not die, not unless they were slain in battle or chose to let go in grief. And the many things around them grew old and fell into memory, until they fell even from that. The life of a horse was mere seconds compared to the years they had already lived. Such an accident was a good reminder of this.

At that moment, Hrivo decided to investigate the parchment on the floor, despite the fact that he had already seen it. He snorted at one scroll, and then jumped back as it blew away from him. Legolas chuckled, and then gently rubbed one hand down Hrivo's face, ignoring the white hairs that ended up adorning his sleeve.

"It is worth it," he said, and his voice was suddenly determined. He looked up at Belhadron from where he was sat. "Whatever price I may end up paying for my trust in him, it will be worth it."

0-o-0-o-0

He was moving quickly, the ground flashing past underneath his mare's hooves. She was small, the better to thread through the thick woods that made up their realm, and Belhadron briefly let his mind wander and enjoy the feeling of being so free.

It was only for a moment, though, and then his thoughts turned back to the track ahead. He was scouting, pushing ahead of Legolas' party behind him. Though he was not expecting any trouble, he had learnt long ago that trouble may happen nonetheless. The track narrowed, and Belhadron checked his mare as her hooves slipped slightly underneath her.

He didn't notice the encroaching darkness, not until the mare balked, her ears flicking back against her head as she sensed what was still beyond his sight. Belhadron slowed down even more, and one hand went to the sword at his hip. There was no obvious danger, not that he could see. No tracks or the telltale wisps of web that indicated a spider's nest, only a pervasive feeling of darkness. It was perhaps nothing, only the latent shadow that seemed to encroach on everywhere at the moment.

Belhadron was wrong. He didn't have much warning before his mare suddenly dug her feet in and slid to a frantic stop, her ears flat back and every muscle in her body tensed. Belhadron drew his sword an inch out of his scabbard and asked her forwards.

She refused, trying to spin and bolt in the other direction, her hind legs tucked beneath her to give her as much power as possible. Belhadron was hard pressed to control her, but he did manage to for the moment. He needed to know what it was that was there. Legolas and his party were not far behind him.

His mare started backing up, before her last shreds of bravery gave out and she spun on her hindquarters and attempted to bolt in the other direction. Belhadron only just stayed with her. In the next moment she skidded to a halt again, shaking in primal fear. He looked up, and heard the patter of feet in the branches above.

Before he could even ask his mare to move away, before he could draw a weapon a spider launched itself from the trees above. The mare tried to spin but there was another spider behind her, and she was trapped. In a last desperate move she spun sideways and reared, her nostrils flared in fear. Belhadron felt himself being flung backwards. For a moment he stayed on, but then she staggered back, her head coming higher and higher as the spiders tried to jump from the trees onto her back once again. One of them succeeded and any shred of sense she had remaining was lost as the mare launched herself forwards in a desperate frenzy. Belhadron was thrown clear, and he twisted in an attempt to soften his landing.

He wasn't successful. He felt his head smash into the trunk of a tree before, like a rag doll, he fell to one side into the undergrowth. The ground sloped down and he rolled, flashes of trees and a screaming horse passing sickeningly around him. Foolishly he put out a hand to try and stop himself. The next moment he was gagging on the pain, trying not to scream as there was a crack and his arm gave way beneath him.

He came to a stop below he track he had been riding on, half on his side. His arm was beneath him, but when he tried to move it and get up he had to bite back another scream, that came out as a choked noise of pain in the back of his throat. The ground had not yet settled around him, everything blurring, and he could feel the warm slick of blood as it fell down his face. He bit his lip as he tried to move once more, not preventing a whimper from escaping, and only managed to shift his legs before he nearly passed out.

Above him, he could hear he screaming of his mare as she tried to escape. He had landed so he could see the track above him, and every so often caught a glimpse of a dark coat or the flick of a tail. He wanted to cry out, tell his brave little mare to run, but he could barely breathe, let alone shout.

There can a desperate scream from above, sounding so similar to the scream of a child, and then a sickening thud as the mare overbalanced and fell. Belhadron winced as he heard the sharp crack, and he knew from the sound of her hooves scraping frantically against the earth before stilling, that she had broken herself. Later, he would be told she cracked her head when falling. For now, he merely lay there, trying not to whimper and draw attention to himself, as the spiders feasted on his mare.

He didn't know how long he was there. The pain became a near constant thing. He would give up on trying to move, before forgetting and attempting to rise, and then blacking out for a few moments each time. The blood was sticky on his face and neck, and was beginning to drip sluggishly down the back of his collar. There was a thought that he kept trying to grasp, one that slipped like the rush of water from his mind when he reached out for it. Someone was meant to be following him.

The sound of hooves broke Belhadron out of his wandering state, and with a muffled noise of pain he tried to focus. Snatches of shouts and commands filtered down to him, and he recognised one of the voices. He would know it anywhere.

There were exclamations of surprise, and then the sound of steel being drawn and the singing of bows. At the edge of his hearing, that was beginning to fade in and out now, Belhadron could hear the patter of spider feet as they began to flee the wrath of the elves, and the wrath of one elf in particular. It has not escaped their attention that it was Belhadron's mare that lay on the track in front of them.

After some short time the fighting ceased. Belhadron could hear them checking amongst each other for injuries or problems, but overriding that current of talk was one voice, and Belhadron was fairly sure it was calling his name.

The calls became more urgent, and there was movement up on the track above him. Belhadron tried to move, to see who was above him, but agony flashed through him and he collapsed back down again, a hiss coming through clenched teeth that almost turned into a whistle. The sounds petered away above him, and he wanted to scream and to be left in silence at the same time.

It was quiet. It was too quiet. He didn't know how much time passed, for it seemed to blur together in painful grey shadows.

There came a rustle from above. A curious snort. Belhadron's vision was patchy at best, but he thought he could make out a shadow of grey above him. Of course. They would have left the horses and continued on foot.

He didn't know where that thought had come from.

Hrivo- how did he know his name- snorted once more, and then made to step back to where he had been left. In the part of his mind that was still there, Belhadron was cursing. He tried to call out to the horse, to anyone who could listen. All that came from his lips was a weak whistle.

Hrivo's ears immediately pricked up and he stepped forwards. Belhadron pursed his lips and tried to whistle once more. He wasn't sure what he was doing, only that some part of him knew it was the right thing to do. A weak wavering note left his lips, cracked and broken, but still there. Hrivo stepped forwards again, and then turned his head, as if he could see Belhadron through the thick undergrowth that had swallowed the elf.

Belhadron whistled again, and Hrivo pushed his nose into the undergrowth, snorting in surprise as a branch scratched his nose. Belhadron grinned weakly, and tried to reach out for the horse, forgetting the distance and thickets between them. Fire shot through his arm and head, and then swift darkness descended.

He didn't know how long he had been passed out for when he next saw the woods around him. It must have only been a few moments, as Hrivo was still standing there. He snorted at Belhadron, reaching out with his muzzle once more.

A voice came from nearby, a familiar one, but tinged with worry and frustration. "I told you to stay put," he said, and Hrivo barely flicked one ear in reply before his gaze turned back to where Belhadron was.

There was the sound of footsteps nearby, and then Belhadron heard a soft gasp, followed by a flurry of shouted commands. Belhadron hardly realised that his eyes had fallen shut. He pried them open to see a familiar blond figure pushing their way through the undergrowth.

Legolas reached Belhadron's side and crouched down. "Ai mellon," he murmured, hands ghosting over his friend, trying to assess him as best he could. "I'm so sorry. What hurts?"

Belhadron curved the corners of his lips up in a weak smile. "It's not...too bad," he whispered. "My...arm." He tried to move, to show him, but his body spasmed with pain and he bit back a scream.

"Stay still," ordered Legolas quickly, and he pulled off his cloak to lay beneath Belhadron's head. By this time, others had found them, and soon enough there were two elves beside Belhadron, the others of the company beginning to fashion a stretcher. Legolas issued orders with tight lips and a worried frown. "We're going to get you more comfortable," he said softly to Belhadron. "But it's going to hurt, for a bit at least."

Belhadron nodded slightly, but even the slight movement had him whimpering in pain. Legolas swallowed hard, and then nodded at the other two. One held Belhadron's head steady, whilst the other with Legolas reached beneath his chest and slowly lifted him. Belhadron let out a muffled cry and twisted his head to bite at the corner of his leather doublet as Legolas gently pulled his broken arm out from underneath him.

He screamed through clenched teeth, the pain blinding as Legolas, murmuring swift apologies and a breathless plea to the Valar, pushed the bone back into the skin and aligned it once more. Legolas' hands were shaking as he did so, and soon one of the others took over from him.

Belhadron was trembling, and turned his head to one side as he gagged. Legolas shifted so he was supporting him, keeping his head as still as possible. Every time Belhadron retched, his head throbbed, and he gagged again.

"You've really done it this time," Legolas murmured softly. Belhadron huffed a laugh as he finally grew still, and Legolas gently let him relax back down to the ground. He forcibly ignored the broken and bloody arm, instead pressing a corner of the cloak to the gash across Belhadron's head. It had mostly stopped bleeding, leaving dark crimson across Belhadron's face and neck, but Legolas gently pressed the gash shut anyway.

Belhadron trembled, and one of the other elves unfastened their cloak and laid it over him. "We can move off soon enough," he said. "They're nearly done."

Legolas nodded, and turned back to Belhadron. "I'm so sorry," he said. Belhadron looked skeptical, and Legolas chuckled brokenly. "Your mare had been dragged some way by the spiders. We were looking for you in the wrong places. If it wasn't for Hrivo's reluctance to follow my orders, then we may have been even longer."

Belhadron grinned weakly. "That accursed horse," he murmured. "But for once, I... I really do not...care."

Legolas laughed brokenly. "After all these years, you're finally warming up to him. I've always told you that his spirit would be useful one day." Belhadron chuckled slightly, though the movement had him grimacing, and Legolas smoothed the hair back from his face, frowning in worry. Above them, Hrivo stood watch, a grey shadow amongst the trees.

0-o-0-o-0

"Get to the horses! Let's move!"

There was the sound of feet pounding against stone, and then elves came running through the corridor towards the great gates, darting into rooms to reach for familiar weapons. Quivers were slung onto backs as they headed outside and to the stables. Grooms were already at the doors and they flung them open as the elves hurried inside.

In no time at all, the first horse clattered out of the stables and into the great courtyard before the forest. His rider pulled him up to an abrupt halt, and the grey coat rippled over powerful muscles as he turned his horse to face the stronghold.

Soon enough the courtyard was filled with the snorts and uneasy shifting of the horses. Weapons were only a touch away for every elf, and some were sitting on their horses with bows or knives already in hands. Yet they waited for their orders, watching the blond figure on the grey horse in front of them, and the dark-haired elf at his side.

The blond elf spoke quickly, and the company parted into three, the horses shifting easily around each other. There was a strum of tension in the air, and nobody spoke as the blond elf held up one hand, and then signalled for them to move off.

His grey jumped underneath him, and then surged forwards, hooves cutting into the packed earth. The rest of the horses followed, the three groups splitting up down the tracks leading out into the forest like a rush of water. In a few minutes, they were gone, and all that remained were the hoofprints left in the grass, and the few elves left behind watching where the forest had swallowed them up.

The deep drumming sound echoed through the forest, the pounding of hooves on packed earth sending the trees whispering amongst each other and the leaves dancing above the forest floor. The forest watched as the horses flitted amongst their trees, a grey ghost leading them deeper and deeper into the woods, into the places where the forest no longer knew what it was, where the trees were no longer trees, not to them.

And as quickly as they appeared they vanished from sight. There was near silence once more, and the trees stilled, as if holding their breath. As they had done all this time they watched, and they waited for news.

Eventually whispers spread from the south, the leaves rustling uneasily, and then a grey shadow stepped in amongst the trees. The forest sighed with relief as the horse picked its way down the track. The blond elf gently touched his horse's neck and he stopped, ears pricking forwards. In the sunlight that glanced through the canopy, his coat shimmered as he turned his head, looking towards some elusive sound.

A few more horses came trotting wearily up to the blond elf and his grey from behind, and the blond elf nodded, moving off once more. One of the other horses snorted and the grey jumped in surprise. The blond elf laughed and leant forwards, reaching one hand down his horse's neck. His weapons were on his back, and though he was blood-stained and dirty, his face was merry enough as he laughed. The silver sound filtered through the trees around him, and the forest, if it could, would have smiled.

The grey horse led the company home. The light began to dim as dusk fell, and the forest watched as the elves returned home, riding into the circle of light surrounding the courtyard. The blond elf slid from his grey's back, murmuring a few soft words as he turned to help some of the others of the company. The grey remained where his rider had left him, but still the trees watched until the blond elf returned to him, rubbing one hand down his nose in greetings.

The elf moved off but his grey stayed still for a moment. His ears pricked forwards as he looked over into the forest, and the trees, if possible, looked back. For a second there was quiet.

The moment passed as the blond elf called out, exasperated but fondly, for his horse, and the grey turned back towards his rider. The forest watched until they vanished out of sight.

0-o-0-o-0

It was late spring, and the heavy rains that accompanied the season had finally passed. Legolas rode north, heading for their north-eastern border and the elves stationed there. Truthfully, there was no need for him to go, but it had been a difficult winter, with orcs forever pushing on their southern border, and this was as close to time off as he could achieve at the moment.

Hrivo was watching the forest around them as they rode, and he seemed to delight in the heralds of summer, the green leaves over their heads and the heady scent of the later blossoms still flowering. He was a seasoned charger now, his coat hardly dappled anymore, lightening over the years. Instead it was covered in specks of brown, as if someone had taken a paintbrush and flicked it at him. He had borne Legolas through to the other side of many skirmishes by now, and each time Legolas had repaid him as best as he could.

They reached the north-eastern border just after dusk, riding into the camp and the orange circle of light spilling from the fire. It was a clear night, still slightly cold, and Legolas spent it by the fire with the other elves. Their soft song flitted through the trees and even the horses stilled at the sound.

Legolas left just before dawn, vaulting onto Hivro and turning him east. He didn't ride for long before he reached the edge of the forest. Ahead of him stretched the rolling plains of the East, the short grass dotted with cold streams from the mountains. The Sun was just rising behind Erebor in the distance, and the amber light poured over the grass, spilling across Legolas' upturned face.

The grass burnt orange, and there was no point where the land ended and the sky began anymore. Beneath him Hrivo shifted impatiently, a fierce joy running through him. Legolas smiled, and nudged him softly with his heels. It was all the permission Hrivo needed.

He surged forwards, ears pricked towards the horizon as he raced over the grass. Legolas laughed out loud as he leant back and held out both arms, the light spinning through his fingers as Hrivo galloped, skimming across the ground. He laughed again, and the sound of pure joy spiralled into the air as everything except the rush of the wind and the pound of hooves fell away.

After all, that is freedom: a horse and open skies.