Disclaimer: I own nothing recognisable.

BROTHERS IN ARMS

From the Forest to the Valley 3018 September
To Represent the Elves 3018 November
My Dear AdarI Never 3018 November
A Spindly Spider Salad 3018 December
Tathar's Tale 3018TA December
To be a Captain or a King, or a Steward or a Prince, or a Scout? 3018 December
Before Coming of Age3018 December
Flu 3018 December
Spider! 3019 January
The Purpose of Races 3019 January

From the Forest to the Valley, late August 3018

Legolas and Tathar walked through the treetops, an uneasy silence between them. Both Prince and bodyguard were deep in their thoughts, for their mission was not a happy one.

It was late August, and the memory of Gollum, and all that his captivity entailed, lay heavy on their hearts.

Three Elves had been slain or taken in June, when orcs attacked, and Gollum had escaped from the Elves' guard. They were highly experienced warriors of a patrol which had been together since their Trials, much like Legolas' own patrol. Legolas and Tathar had been close to Tuilë, for she had married Aglarmoth, a warrior of their first mission in South Mirkwood, and she was the mother of Lauruial.

Lauruial, a fierce young warrioress, was the bodyguard of Legolas' younger sister, Lothlomë, and so Legolas and Tathar had interfered time and again in her upbringing. Tuilë had spent her entire daughter's life trying to raise her as a good green-elf, and the fierce elleth had taken Legolas and Tathar to task many times for their pranks and jokes on the younger ellyth over the years.

Tuilë had been found, on what should have been a bright summer's day, lifeless at the foot of her heart-tree, her sword still gripped loosely in her stiff fist.

Tuilë had been the lucky one. Her daughter and her husband had lost hope at the sight of her body, but the lack of her companions' bodies was more concerning to the Elves who had found her.

Mallaer had been found by his brother in early August, caught in a spider's web. The trackers had determined that the ellon had been thrown there by the orcs, perhaps after a failed attempt at escape. Nar-rhîw had born the body back to their father, Hîmdol, the ageless advisor of the Greenwood.

Hîmdol and Nar-rhîw had been inconsolable upon the death of Mallaer, and the advisor was in danger of fading, according to the healers. But even Mallaer had been more fortunate than his colleague, Eleni.

Eleni had been the Captain of the Northern Excursions patrol, the usual patrol of which Tuilë had been part. This had been a time of relative leave for their patrol, with various duties about the Keep between missions north to the mountains and plains. If fate had been kinder, Eleni would have been found dead with her loyal companions.

There had been traces of the strong elleth, among the wreckage left in the foliage by the orcs. Those traces had been her clothes and her weapons, and occasionally her blood.

Eleni had never been found.

There was no doubt that the Sindarin elleth was a captive in Dol Guldor. Legolas only hoped that she would fade soon, for the only cure to be found after being tortured by Nazgûl was in Námo's Halls.

Eleni's daughter, Nímlos, had been in the healing ward when Legolas and Tathar set forth, sunk deep into a depression, for she had also been part of the northern excursions patrol, and the loss of her mother, and half of her teammates hit her hard. Cúluial, Eleni's husband and Nimlos' father, spent his days at his daughter's side, and the healers were worried that the seneschal would fade from grief.

Tathar's mother, Lothelleth, who shared the job of seneschal with Cúluial, had also been distraught by Eleni's disappearance. Lothelleth had been friends with Eleni since the beginning of Greenwood, and she had been methodically going about her duties, often doing more damage than she was fixing.

The trail for Gollum had been lost during August, for the time had indeed come that neither Tingallos nor Legolas would lead any elf near Dol Guldor, for the risk was too great. Darkness lay upon that part of the forest like a blanket, smothering all in its reach with a soul-sucking foulness. The evil of the place was unmistakeable and irreversible, as proven by three young new recruits, accompanying Tingallos on their first mission south, who had strayed too close and had been consumed by darkness, even as if they had been tortured by orcs. Those poor youngsters had been a tight-knit group, even more so after the misadventure in their youth when they had snuck a spider into the palace, resulting in the death of the Captain of the Guard.

Legolas had been in command of the tracking mission, and though it broke his heart to abandon the search for Eleni, there was no hope left after a month in the clutches of the orcs, and almost as long in the grip of a Nazgûl.

Now, Legolas had resigned as a Commander for the time being. His squadron, Lalaith, had been broken up, to fill the gaps left by recent deaths in active patrols. Brethildíl and Brethilríl had joined the Home Guard, while Aldanna had joined Tingallos' patrol once more, for the other southern patrol, though not patrolling Dol Guldor, was still patrolling the southern border of the Woodland Realm. Rílglín, and a number of others from Lalaith, had joined with some other warriors to form a new northern patrol, to replace Eleni's Northern Excursions.

Legolas and Tathar had been sent to Imladris, to bear the news to Lord Elrond.

Legolas jerked out of his musing when he heard voices floating through the trees. The rumbling, stone-like music of true Dwarvish song wafted through the darkness below, and Legolas realised that here the path through the canopy ran near to the single path through the forest floor.

With a few hand signals, for they were high enough in the trees for the failing daylight to illuminate the two elves, Legolas signalled to Tathar orders to approach the dwarves.

Soundlessly, the two elves made their way above the two Dwarves, for there was indeed only the pair. Both bristled with axes, and wore extremely long, bushy beards – Legolas was aware that this meant these Dwarves were very well respected within their Mountain, and perhaps meant they had not been defeated in battle in the last few years, depending on which particular clan they belonged to.

Tathar took his position, behind the dwarves, while Legolas perched on a branch in front of them. At a nod from Legolas, both Elves dropped from the canopy to land on either side of the two Dwarves.

The Dwarves startled, and each raised a large battle-axe. Legolas held his own hands out, empty, to show that he did not bear weapons.

"Greetings," Legolas said in clear Westron, knowing that to speak Sindarin or Silvan in front of the Dwarves would end badly for him. "I am Legolas of the Woodland Realm. Are you in need of a guide? You are going the wrong direction if you wish to make for Erebor."

The white-bearded Dwarf put his axe away, and at a few gruff words the red bearded one followed suit. "We do not make for Erebor," he stated, chin lifted proudly.

"I am Tathar Neldorornion of the Woodland Realm," Tathar made himself known, bowing to the Dwarves. To Legolas' surprise, they both bowed back, sweeping their arms wide.

"Gloin, at your service," said the white bearded one, and "Gimli, Gloin's son, at your service," the other introduced himself.

"I rather think you will find us to be at your service," Legolas commented dryly, gesturing to the trees shadowing the elf-path. Gloin chuckled darkly.

"That may be the case, indeed," the older Dwarf conceded.

Gimli stepped to the side of the path, and began spreading a bedroll. He took his father's pack, removing a second bedroll, and set about making the bit of road into a half-comfortable camp.

"It is getting late," Gloin commented on his son's actions, "and I know all too well how easily one might wander off the path in Mirkwood."

Legolas shrugged, and took out his own larger bedroll, setting himself up on the opposite side of the path to Gimli.

"Where do you go?" Tathar asked Gloin, taking out a pot, and starting to build a small fire with nearby twigs and deadwood.

"We go west," Gloin confided. "We bring news to Lord Elrond."

"What news?" Legolas asked sharply, cutting into the conversation.

Gloin pushed Tathar away from the still-unlit fire, taking out his own flint and steel. Seconds later, the Dwarf had a little blaze going, and the nearest trees shrank back a little from the flame.

"Your King already knows. That messenger from Mordor will return but once more, and requires an answer."

Legolas shuddered. "Yes, I am familiar with that situation. I brought the news of the second coming to the King myself."

Tathar was soon heating a stew from dried herbs and meat stored in his pack, and water.

"Are you just escorting us out of your realm, then?" Gloin asked, pulling out a bowl each for his son and himself.

Tathar shook his head as he searched his pack for his own bowl. Legolas answered. "We have news for Lord Elrond. You may have got word that the elves were attacked in June. It has been decided that it is time to involve the Wise once more in the affairs in South Mirkwood."