See Prologue for header info.



Day Destroys Night, Night Separates Day  
 
Ch. 1:  A Day's Journey  


 
Legolas had traveled for, seemingly, an eternity. He stopped only 
so Napula could rest. While his horse was recuperating, he scouted 
out the surrounding lands to mark the tracks so that he would 
continue in the right direction. He had long since decided that 
somewhere near the Grey Mountains was the riding party's 
destination, enabling him to be somewhat relaxed as far as 
following the tracks went.  
 
There were only a few places to stay near the Grey Mountains, 
which would make finding the party relatively easy. As long as 
Legolas knew the approximate direction they went when they neared 
the mountains, he could figure out where they rode to. Right now, 
it was merely a matter of arriving soon after the party did so 
that he might find their business in the place and mark their 
journey back home. He did not wish to be on the road going to the 
town while the party was on the same road coming back.  
 
~If they take the same road back,~ Legolas thought. Surely they 
had known that his father would learn of their trespassing, since 
they made no efforts to cover their trail.  ~Lucky for them, I was 
the one who found it. Had it of been some other, there would have 
been a price to pay.~ As it was, Legolas was careful to erase all 
signs of their passing. He wanted to protect the party from his 
father's wrath, naturally, but in finding the trail, Thranduil 
would also realize why he had left so quickly. ~It's a tricky web 
we weave indeed...~ Legolas repeated an old human proverb in his 
mind. He hated lying to his father, but if he didn't, he would 
have no freedom and would be bound to his role as Prince of 
Mirkwood for all his eternal life. Not that he hated his duties as 
Prince, indeed, he enjoyed most of them, but he could not live the 
normal, carefree "come and go as you please" life of an elf. He 
wanted something more than the kingdom, though. He wanted life 
experience, adventure, and knowledge beyond what Mirkwood alone 
could offer. 
 
~There you go, getting lost in your own thoughts again. Even 
Napula is looking at you as if you're crazy.~ Legolas whistled for 
Napula to come to his side, smiling as Napula nickered in 
response. "Fine, I'll come to you. You are a stubborn horse if I 
have ever seen one," he said out loud, watching the way Napula's 
ears responded to his light-hearted reprimand.  
 
Napula met him halfway, and Legolas jumped into the saddle. He 
nudged his horse gently, wanting to take the journey easy for a 
while. He set the pace at a nice trot. 
 
A cool breeze blew on his face, and rain could be smelled in the 
air. The prospect of a rainstorm at night made Legolas change his 
mind as to the pace of the journey. He kneed Napula to go faster, 
hoping to arrive to shelter before night came. 

 
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 
 
Glorfindel could smell the rain in the air. The clouds to the east 
were looking dismal, the thought of spending the night in the rain 
made him recount the amount of time it would take to get to their 
destination. ~We should make it before nightfall with a little 
time to spare.~ He spurred his horse onward, eager to reach the 
town as soon as possible.  
 
The party was tired. This Glorfindel knew. They had not stopped 
during the journey through Mirkwood, and they had rested but 
little since then. Each night they were plagued by the thought of 
orcs, making much rest impossible. The horses, while trustworthy, 
were nonetheless skittish in this new country terrain, smelling 
the dangers the land often induced on travelers.  
 
The party rode on with high hopes of a soft bed and a warm fire in 
the town. Glorfindel felt the same as those who rode with him, 
though he would never say it or let it show. His silky blond hair, 
which normally flowed down his back, now stuck to his face, neck, 
and back. The sticky sweat and the knotted muscles that come with 
a long day of riding drained him of his precious energy.  
 
The land was beginning to cool as the bright sun began to 
disappear in the horizon. The rain clouds brought a cooling breeze 
with them, and the stars were soon going to show their sparkling 
faces. The night would be cold, with the rain and clouds bringing 
the chills of the Grey Mountains with them.  
 
The town, near the base of the mountains, came into view, though 
it was still far away. The horses instinctively galloped faster at 
the sight. The call from the guards at the tower went out 
announcing that riders were nearing the town, and the gates opened 
to permit their entrance. After what seemed like an eternal 
journey, they slowed their horses to a walk as they passed through 
the war-battered gates.  
 
The road that connected the gate to the town was made of crude, 
uncut stones. The buildings were just as unwholesome as the road 
that connected them. Many of the buildings had holes in the roofs, 
and their wood faces were beginning to decay from old age and bad 
weather. The once brown wood had long turn gray. The condition of 
the buildings made the town look dismal and ancient.  
 
The stopped their horses at the first respectable looking 
building. This three story building, well-known as the Garland 
Inn, looked new compared to the town surrounding it, but in 
reality it was as old as the town itself. The wood was not run-
down or eaten by insects. The roof would not allow any of the 
soon-to-come rain to fall on their heads. The stables were clean 
and stocked with good food for the horses. However, the Garland 
Inn was not known for its looks. This inn was the Prancing Pony of 
the Northeast. Any information or contacts carrying information 
could be found here at some point.  
 
Glorfindel told the stable hand to give their horses a treat and 
rub them down well. He then went inside and ordered four rooms for 
him and his companions. His room was comfortable but sparsely 
decorated. ~Of course, most people who stay here aren't interested 
in beauty~ he thought with a bit of dismay.  
 
~How good that bed looks, but first I should get washed up.~ He 
noticed the basin was full of freshly poured water. Glorfindel 
quickly undressed and stepped into the tub. The water was still 
warm, and it refreshed him to no end to relax his muscles for the 
first time in days. He could feel his body begin to unknot, and he 
dunked his head so that his hair could be cleaned. He took the bar 
of soap, which contained no smell and was harshly made, and washed 
his hair and body.  Refreshed, he stood up and unpacked a fresh 
pair of clothes. 
 
These clothes were neither richly embroidered nor stylish, they 
were merely comfortable. ~Something I am far too unused to.~ The 
colors of the fabric, dark brown and black, would blend in well 
with the dark atmosphere of the tavern beneath his feet. He threw 
on a midnight black cloak, whose hood covered his head and face 
completely. He did not wish to draw too much attention to himself. 
Seeing an elf was not such a rare occurrence, but seeing one in a 
tavern like the Garland Inn reeked of trouble. No doubt many of 
the townspeople had noted their arrival and entrance into the inn, 
but there was no need to cause more talk of why they were here. 
His fellow riders knew to stay out of sight, only coming out if 
needed. 
 
~They no doubt have no problem staying in their rooms and 
resting,~  Glorfindel thought, with a little bit of resentfulness. 
He shrugged the thought off, and walked out of the room so that he 
could meet with his contact.



TBC