The Fellowship of the FT Forum

The day was bitter. So this was why mother had complained about the heat in the South. She was from Rohan, where days in the summer are only as warm as the nights are in Harad. Father was from the Dunedain, who lived even farther North. Here, near where he used to live, icy rain dripped from the bare branches of the trees, and the sky was an even gray. Yet Turmegil was saying how beautiful the day was, and I agreed with him. My wet scarf clung to my neck and drenched hair, but the silent chilly gray beauty of the wood was far and away preferable to the oppressive heat and torture of the Haradrim slave camp.
"You have probably noticed this already, but I just thought I would bring it up. What is that black thing up ahead?" I questioned Turmegil. Being an elf, he had probably noticed the dark mass through the trees ages before. I, a human girl and prone to daydreaming, considered myself lucky not to trip over it.
"That is where the forest ends, and the mountain begins."
"Another one!"
He laughed, and I smiled.
"The mountains of Hithaeglir are the longest range in this part of Middle Earth, Elsayenle. You are lucky I did not decide to take the mountain route instead of cutting through Fangorn."

"Elsie," I rebuked him absently; Turmegil always refused to call me by my nickname.

Captured like my parents during the War of the Ring, he knew these lands, but to me they were wholly new. I shivered, remembering. Trees were a new thing to me, amazing enough on their own. Talking trees bordered on terrifying, beautiful as they were.
We came to the edge of the wood. Looking up, a sheet of rock stretched up to the sky, craggy and huge. This was the mountain.
"Rest now. We will be climbing for a long time," Turmegil said. " I will get wood for a fire."
I settled myself against a rock crag, my back to the forest. Turmegil unsheathed his woodcutting blade and headed off. Sleep slipped over me like a blanket.
***
"Ai! Goth!" The cries rang in my ears startling me from sleep. I started and straightened. Enemies. "No dhinen! Drego! Ave acheno!" I heard Turmegil's voice. Flee.
No. I can fight. I can't let him go! He would not say this unless he meant it. He would just tell me to stay hidden. I must. I can't! I must. The thoughts flashed through my mind as I unsheathed my sword. Deep breath. Go.
I knew how to use cover to an advantage, but in this barren place, there was little hope that I could escape unnoticed. I ducked among the rocks, crawling and zig zagging. The yelling was still behind me. My heart leapt in my throat and I could barely breathe. I was close to having to choke back tears. The climb seemed endless but I managed it somehow.
From about a hundred yards up I looked down to see bloodied bodies of the orc carcasses, some laying where I had been sleeping. The remaining score were carrying Turmegil far away. The last I saw of him was his cropped dark hair, then he was gone. The tears overflowed as I gazed and I buried my face in my arms. Was this escape all for naught? I might as well still be in the camp, awful as it was. At least I'd have a friend. Ai! I sobbed. There was nothing to be done. I was only sixteen, with no plan. No one knew us or where we were. I was not yet skilled enough to evade or take on an orc company alone. I would go to Lorien, though I did not know the way.

***
Goth = Enemy
No dhinen = Be silent
Drego = Flee
Avo acheno = Don't look back