He scanned the landscape; rolling green plains and craggy rocks; he recognised nothing. If only they didn’t ask him, he might...
“Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?”
He had to say something.
“They run... north-west... as if the very whips of their masters...”
?” the Dunadan looked confused, a rare sight. “But that would take them back toward Rauros.”
“Forgive me, I meant... north-
He smiled weakly, his error taken for a minor lapse.
Now if they asked him no more questions they might never find out that he was completely, utterly and wholly embarrassingly lost.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.