A Nightingale's Song

Bow of the Valar

Legolas rode at a leisurely pace, not particularly wanting to rush back to the Dύnedain village before he had to. He remembered the look of confusion on the rangers faces when he had asked to hunt. Perhaps they had thought he meant to hunt animals?

He simply wished for an excuse to avoid more people for as long as he could. He would be seen as a stranger in the community, and he wanted to avoid the suspicious looks for now. As he watched his surroundings, he eventually concluded that he would hunt. Not for his own enjoyment, but as to present a gift to the people he would be staying with.

As the sun slipped behind the distant mountains, Legolas brought his horse to a stop. After he leapt off, he said a few soft words in Sindarin to his horse, telling him to stay nearby, in case something should happen and the prince needed a quick getaway..

The silvery white stallion trotted off towards the glade of soft green grass, and Legolas smiled, before he crept into the shadowy woods.

....................

Legolas' superior elf hearing picked up all of the soft noises of every animal within a mile. The gentle rustling of a bird as it prepared to roost; the quiet hoof beats of a young buck, sniffling around in the darkness, searching for food in the undergrowth.

That would be his prey. There was nothing else of large enough size, and he refused to kill a slumbering animal. He opened his senses and began to move in the direction of the creature. He trod lightly, careful not to make a sound that could alert the animal. After a minute or so, he caught a glimpse of the deer through the shadowed branches. The moon had now risen, and the buck glowed with its subtle light. Legolas stared in awe for a moment at the simple beauty, before silently nocking his arrow.

The shot rang true, and impaled the deer cleanly in its neck. The buck fell and crashed into the undergrowth. Legolas smirked at his victory, then snuck over and hauled the beast onto his shoulders. The weight was to be compared almost as a feather to the strength of an elf. Legolas began his walk back to the edge of the forest.

As he was nearing the edge, an object he had not seen while hunting caught his eye. A collection of woven leaves tied to a branch. Not an obvious marker, it would be invisible to a man, but Legolas was no mere man.

Lowering his game to the ground, he warily moved over to the object. When he reached it, he examined the entire thing. It was fairly simple and unobtrusive, but for a small, silver birch twig jutting out of it. Legolas puzzled over the meaning of the beautiful branch. When at last his elven mind could not think of any other solution, he resigned to simply looking in the directions that the branch pointed.

There, nestled in a tree hollow, was a glint of bright silver. Legolas strode over to the tree and pulled out the object.

It was a beautiful sword, of elven make, though it was unlike any he had ever seen. There was a large ruby embedded in the hilt, and the blade had strange runes that were written in a form of elvish he could not understand. However, it was not the only object in the tree. Next Legolas pulled out a gorgeous bow made of Mallorn, but it was not a Galadrim bow. The string was made of jet black elvish hair, with a strand of silver that thrummed with a great power.

Legolas realised at once that this must be one of the fabled Bows of the Valar, which were made by the Valar themselves, in which they strung a single strand of their own hair. This was power that the elf prince was ill-equipped to handle, and he immediately placed both weapons back into the tree.

The Bows of the Valar were said to be family heirlooms, and any other than the blood of said family could not wield it, not without bringing great doom to themselves.