Part 6

“Melmenya!”

Sensing that something had happened to his wife, Legolas immediately broke off the attack, and rushed to her rescue.

He found her, lying face down, at the bottom of a deep, man-made hole.

“I think I have fallen into a trap, Lassui,” she said, feebly.

“Are you hurt?” He pulled a coil of Elven rope from his belt.

“No,” she replied, “just winded... I was very lucky.”

“It is probably a boar trap, Melmenya,” said Legolas, tying a loop in the end of the rope. “Thank the Valar it is not filled with spikes.”

“No, just lots of mud.” Eowyn pushed herself up on her hands and knees. “I think the forest must have been flooded recently—maybe it was something in the flood water that killed the trees.”

“Then we had better get that mud off you,” said Legolas, “as quickly as we can.” He lowered the rope into the trap. “Can you put your feet through the loop?”

“Yes...” She rolled over, and sat up, and he was horrified to see that there was even mud on her face.

“Work the rope up to your waist,” he said, “and pull it tight. Good. Now...” He looped the other end around the trunk of the nearest tree, and grasped it in both hands. “Are you ready, Melmenya?”

“Yes.”

He hauled her up slowly, hand over hand, and when she reached the top, she somehow managed to get one of her legs over the lip, and Legolas grasped her belt, and together they wrestled her to safety.

But she was covered in mud.

Legolas quickly coiled the rope and tucked it in Eowyn’s belt. “Come,” he said, pulling her to her feet, and he half walked, half carried her to the stream, leading her along the bank until they were back amongst the living trees and the reeds at the edge of the water were green and healthy-looking.

There, he helped her strip off her clothes, throwing the muddied ones aside, and—although she was shivering with cold—he washed her thoroughly, rinsing the mud from her hands and her face and out of her hair. And only when he was absolutely sure that it was all gone did he dry her with her shift, and wrap her in his own cloak, and give her his boots.

“We must get you to shelter, Melmenya. We will make for Newhome.”

“But... Arador,” she protested, shivering.

Legolas shook his head. “We need to get you warmed up, Melmenya. Once you are somewhere safe and dry, I will send word to Arador’s father, and ask him to raise the Watch. We will return here with them at dawn, and search the entire forest.”

“If Arador’s father does not kill us,” muttered Eowyn, “for losing his son and heir.”