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━━━━ »•» act two. age of shadow

28. around the riverbend «•« ━━━━

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ third age ━━ year 3019

𓇻 lothlórien; celebrant {silverlode}

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THEIR TIME IN LOTHLÓRIEN HAD COME TO AN END. If it had been up to Elgarain they would have stayed in those peaceful woods forever, but of course she knew that was just a silly dream. Now that Gyda was completely healed, Aragorn had announced their departure yesterday. They hadn't really talked about who would be their guide now that Gandalf was gone, but they didn't have to. It only felt natural that Aragorn would now fulfill that role. He was the one with the most knowledge about the lands they would be passing through. Still, it felt strange to have that place be filled by anyone but the gray wizard.

The watery morning sun just about managed to peek through the leaves of the Mallorn trees. The Fellowship was gathered at the riverside, where they'd been told the Elves of Lórien would say their farewells, including the Lord and Lady themselves. The plan was to row down the Silverlode, to where the river merged with the Anduin. They would follow the waters until they reached the falls of Rauros. From there, they would enter Mordor.

The Galadhrim had prepared boats from the lightest of woods to carry them across the water. They had also gifted them with Lembas bread. An Elvish waybread that could keep them fed for days with a mere bite. But before they were allowed to leave, the Lord and Lady of the woods had wanted to speak with them all.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people," Celeborn said, then gestured for several Elves who'd been waiting in the shadow to step forward. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

The Elves placed an identical robe on each of their shoulders. Woven from the same light material the cloaks of the guards were made from. When the cloak moved, it seemed to change color with its surroundings. When it was still it had a soft green color that reminded her of the fields in Lindon. The cloaks were clasped with a brooch in the shape of a green leaf with delicate silver lines. She could hardly feel the weight of the fabric on her shoulders and yet she knew it would keep her warm in the cold.

Then the Elves stepped aside and the sun itself seemed to have entered the small glade. Lady Galadriel smiled with radiance as she approached them. She was once again clothed in white, her long golden hair hanging unbound over her shoulders. A delicate crown was placed on her head, though she hardly needed it. Her mere presence breathed royalty.

She first stepped towards Legolas and handed him a masterfully crafted bow. "My gift to you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim. Worthy of the skill of our woodland kin."

Elgarain smiled as Legolas looked at the bow in awe and almost delicately pulled the string backwards, feeling its weight.

"To you, Merry and Pippin, I gift you the daggers of the Noldorin. They have already seen service in war." She smiled warmly at Pippin's rather frightful expression. "Do not fear, Peregrin Took, you will find your courage." She then walked towards Sam, who barely seemed to be able to look at her. "And to you Samwise Gamgee, Elvish rope made of hithlain."

"Thank you, my Lady," he stammered, then added with a slight blush. "Have you run out of those shiny daggers?"

Galadriel laughed softly and the sound rang through the glade like a thousand tiny bells, pleasant and warm. Though she did not answer him and walked instead towards Boromir. "To you, Boromir of Gondor, I gift you this golden belt."

Boromir took it with shaking hands, careful to avoid her gaze, Though, well-mannered as he was, he still managed a small bow.

Then it was her turn to come face to face with the Lady of Light. She could feel her heart warm at the mere sight of her smile. "You have gathered all the healing supplies you need and so my gift to you is this." She handed her a brush, made of light and silver wood. "This brush is made from the wood of the Mallorn tree. It shall not break, no matter where you take it."

Her hands tightened around the delicate brush and she smiled. "Thank you, my Lady."

Galadriel nodded and then stepped towards Gyda. "To you, Gyda of the Queen's guard, I gift you these arm bracers. They're made from mithril and shall keep you safe from harm."

Slowly, Gyda reached for the arm bracers, a gentle smile on her face as she held them close to her chest. "Le fael."

Galadriel continued down the line. "And to you Aragorn, I grant you this sheath. The blade that is drawn from this sheath shall not be stained or broken even in defeat."

The sheath was decorated with delicate lines of gold and silver, with green jewels forming flowers and leaves. Aragorn accepted it with a bow of his head.

Then she reached Gimli. "And what gift would a dwarf ask of the Elves?" She asked, her voice warm and genuinely curious.

"Nothing," Gimli muttered beneath his breath. Then he carefully lifted his gaze. "Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time. For she is more than all the jewels beneath the earth."

Then, taking them all by surprise, Galadriel chuckled warmly.

Gimli was about to walk away, seemingly embarrassed, but he turned back at the very last moment. "Actually, eh, there was one thing. No, no, I'm talking nonsense. It's quite impossible. Stupid to ask."

Galadriel waited patiently for him to choose his words; her smile never once lost its radiance.

"I would ask, if I may, for a strand of your hair, my lady."

Elgarain felt her breath caught in her throat and she saw Legolas tense up out of the corner of her eyes. She didn't know if Gimli knew of the weight that rested behind his question. Many centuries ago, there was another who requested the same gift, and he'd been denied. For Galadriel had judged Fëanors request to be out of greed only.

Which is why Elgarain was overwhelmed with surprise when Galadriel reached for her hair and granted Gimli his wish.

At last, she reached Frodo. "Farewell, Frodo Baggins. I give you the light of Eärendil, our most beloved star." She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the forehead. "May it be a light for you in dark places. When all other lights go out."

The Lady of Lothlórien arose back to her full height and gazed upon the company, her eyes like pools of moonlight, filled with encouragement. Celeborn approached them, and led them further through the green land of the Tongue, and towards the glittering water of the Silverlode.

Elgarain allowed herself to gaze upon the mighty Mallorn trees one last time before inhaling deeply and making her way towards the boats. One by one, the company entered the boats. Gimli and Legolas shared a boat, as did Aragorn, Frodo and Sam. Boromir, Merry and Pippin were seated in the third boat while she and Gyda would take the fourth.

The Elves of Lórien sang their farewells with warm, though melancholy, voices. The Fellowship pushed forward, entrusting their silver boats to the flowing streams. Guided by rippling waters, they slowly left Lothlórien behind.

Silence loomed over them, only interrupted by the soft splashing of water caused by the oars. Elgarain looked over her shoulder, one last time and caught sight of the Lady of light. On the lush, green shore, Galadriel stood tall and silent, raising her hand in a final farewell. The soft singing of the Elves was still carried along with the wind. But then the river curve took her out of sight and the song died away. They had left the golden woods behind.

The morning fog still clung to the waters of the Anduin and soon the warmth of Lothlórien was nothing but a memory. They had left its safe shores behind, embarking the raging storm awaiting them somewhere ahead.

Slowly the sun climbed higher into the sky, warming her skin and yet it felt colder than the silver beams of light that filtered through the Mallorn leaves. The water splashed softly against the side of the boat and the currents brought back memories of home.

"Do you remember how we used to take out our little boats on the Gulf of Lhún?" Elgarain asked with a small smile.

She cannot see Gyda's face but she can hear the smile in her voice. "I remember vividly, the way you stirred yourself down dangerous streams."

"Well, I knew you'd come after me," Elgarain chuckled.

"I couldn't very well leave you out to drown."

She threw a look over her shoulder. "Let's hope you still think that way."

Gyda's eyes softened. "I will never let anything happen to you Elgarain." She reached forward and put her hand on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

"Too bad these boats won't carry us home," Elgarain sighed.

Gyda contemplated her words for a moment. "No. No they won't. But we'll find our way back. I know it."

"Yeah," Elgarain mumbled before straightening her shoulders. "Do you ever think about how Galion's doing? Or my mother and the Elflings you were training? Do you ever think..." She frowns, suddenly afraid to voice her thoughts. "Do you ever think we made a mistake leaving them behind?"

"It is because I think of them, that I know in my heart, whatever may come, whatever may happen was meant to be the way it is now." Gyda stated surely, "It is our destiny Elgarain. It is why I must face Mordor once more."

The mere mention of those poisoned lands was enough to make her shiver. She could still clearly recall the nightmares she used to have about it as a young Elfling. During her waking hours she painted the black landscapes, hoping to capture them in painting instead of having them occupy her mind. She never would have believed that one day, she herself would make the long journey to Mordor.

"Are you afraid to go back?" Elgarain mumbled.

"Terribly so," Gyda replied honestly.

She pushed away her fears and smiled once again. "Well, then it's a good thing I won't let anything happen to you either."

"Then I shall never have to be afraid again," Gyda spoke warmly. "Neither of us need to."

Then silence encompassed them once more and they continued on their long way, down the rushing waters. Towards Mordor.

Elgarain had lost track of time but the day was already coming to an end when Aragorn called out from his boat. "We make camp for the night; twilight is upon us." He maneuvered his boat towards the shore. Green trees lined down beside the river, providing them a bit of shelter from the cold breeze and unfriendly eyes.

With haste, the Fellowship worked together in bringing the boats on to the bank. The four Hobbits worked together as they struggled, while Gimli simply hauled his boat onto shore, glowering at Legolas who had not moved to help him.

Gyda and Elgarain both pushed theirs onto land, sharing an exhausted smile as the events of the day finally caught up with them. Her eyes wandered to the fading scar on Gyda's arm. She could only hope her arm wouldn't hurt too much to row.

"It's not hurting. I promise," Gyda said, catching her gaze.

Elgarain nodded, forcing herself to let go of her worries and believe the words of her guard.

Together they made their way up the riverbank to the others.

"We'll rest here tonight," Aragorn announced. "Let us hope no danger lurks in these parts."

Elgarain couldn't help but tense at the mere sound of his voice. She couldn't even bring herself to look at him, hating the way her heart trembled at the sight of him. Of course, she knew they couldn't go on avoiding each other forever. It would only endanger the Fellowship if they couldn't work together, but, at least for now, she tried to keep as much of a distance as possible.

By now, the Fellowship did not even need to exchange words for each of them to get on with their individual tasks. Slowly the camp was formed and a fire was made, smoke rising into the night sky. Soon they would be too close to enemy territory to be able to afford making a fire. And so, Sam seemed determined to make the most of it. The Hobbit started preparing a brew that spread a delicious smell throughout the camp.

"Can I do anything to help?" Elgarain offered as she took a seat beside him.

Sam sighed. "I don't suppose you have brought any salt from the Lórien kitchens?"

"Mmm." She pursed her lips and then reached into her medicine bag. "I didn't bring any salt but I did take these leaves. They add a salty flavor to any meal. I usually use them to counter the bitterness of the truly medicinal plants but I can spare a few."

Sam's entire face brightened. "Thank you endlessly, my Lady. I would be ashamed to serve stew without salt."

She laughed. "You would be forgiven Samwise Gamgee, I promise you."

She watched as he added the leaves and stirred it a few more times before pouring it into the wooden bowls. She got to her feet and helped him to hand out the food. As she came to collect the last bowl, she realized with a startled beat of her heart that only Aragorn was left. She inhaled deeply and carefully put her regal mask in place, shoving her emotions aside.

"Here, you look like you could use it," she mumbled as she reached him, holding out the bowl.

He took it with a nod, his gray eyes observing her with an intensity that made her shiver. "Thank you," he said softly. "Elgarain I-" "Make sure to get some sleep tonight. You do not heal as fast as Elves do," she interrupted him. Then she quickly turned around and headed back to the campfire.

With a heavy sigh she dropped down next to Gimli. Even from this tiny conversation was enough to get her heart racing and her entire body tremble. She hated the effect he had on her but it was impossible to try and resist it, that much she was aware of by now.

The strong scent of alcohol cut through her thoughts and she turned to look at Gimli. The Dwarf had taken out the flash he always carried in his inner pocket and took a sip. Before she could even truly think it through, Elgarain held out her hand.

The Dwarf raised his thick brows at her. "Are you sure you want to be doing that lassie?"

Her eyes flickered to where Aragorn was seated, still as a statue as he observed the tree line. Her stomach clenched and she looked back at Gimli. "Fairly sure."

"Well, it will be most amusing for me," he snorted and handed her the flask.

The smell made her dizzy but she put the flask at her lips and drank. The alcohol warmed her veins and left an unpleasant cough in her throat. She winced and quickly handed him back his flask as coughs rattled her body.

Gimli bursted out laughing. "It's known all around Elves cannot hold their liquor, let that be a comfort, lass." Suddenly his features turned more serious. "Is the lad giving you that much grief then?"

She frowned at him, slightly taken aback at the keen observation skills of the Dwarf. Out of everyone he'd be the last she expected to guess what had been going on between her and Aragorn. As it turned out, she had underestimated him.

"Not as much as I'm giving him," she whispered, honestly.

Gimli took another sip of the burning drink. "Can't say I have any words of advice on the matter, just a promise that you're always welcome to share a drink if you need it."

She smiled. "I shall remember it."

°∴,*⋅✲✦ ( ♕ ) ✦✲⋅*,∴°

𝕬𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝕹𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . .

New chapter is up! I hope you all liked Elgarain's gift. I did some thinking on it but this honestly made the most sense and so I went with it. Please leave a comment with your thoughts, I love hearing from you guys!

Oh, and if you caught the Pocahontas reference in this chapter, you deserve a cookie :)

Only two more chapters to go now. See you guys again soon!

xx Nelly

ELVISH TRANSLATIONS:

Le fael ― Thank you