Though the hour was late, the elvish forest of Lórien still glowed as if it were merely dusk. Lamps of elvish design hung from every branch and lit the fair city with unwavering light. A few of the fair folk walked amongst the trees still, their eyes cast skyward to see the stars. Some opted to sing of the stars' beauty while others remained in silent reverence, and others still worked to capture a semblance of the beauty in works of art and craftsmanship; but all such works, however good they may seem, were mere shadows of the true beauty the elves saw. Such was their love of stars.
Some elves slumbered within their fair homes, either in the treetops or on the ground between the great trunks of ageless trees. Their homes were simple, but beautifully crafted from purposefully carved wood and woven thatching that could be removed to provide an uninhibited view of the sky. All of the homes had well-crafted doors with unmarred paint, but many doors remained open to allow fresh forest air inside. Within, their furniture was simple, yet beautiful and made for comfort. Even common buildings such as the stables were made by master craftsmen; each stable was as perfect as the last.
As Lady Galadriel surveyed her people from within her treetop throne room, her heart was weighed down. Usually, hearing the songs of joyful elves would lighten her spirits and ease her mental and spiritual burdens, but it was not so tonight. An ever-growing feeling of dread had been building in the back of her mind, slowly creeping its way into her every thought. At first, she had foolishly dismissed it as another semi-regular uprising of goblins or perhaps unrest among the stone giants. Now she knew that was not so.
The lady closed her eyes and took deep, steadying breaths. Yes, she should have investigated sooner. It was foolish not to. But she could do nothing about the past. Feeling the tight knot of anxiety loosen in her bosom, she reopened her eyes and turned her gaze northward. Somewhere, in that direction, she could feel a gathering evil.
Another, familiar tickling at the back of her mind brought her attention back to her throne room. "Marchwarden, thank you for coming to see me," she lilted in their native tongue.
"Of course, my lady," came the deep reply. "I came as soon as I heard your summons. What may I do for you?"
In one fluid motion, the lady turned and set her gaze on the marchwarden Haldir. Though he had seen her many times before, she still took his breath away. Her hair was long and gold, fairer than any jewels or art crafted by even the most skilled of hands. Her blue eyes were clear and carried in them wisdom and the light of the stars. Her garments, though beautiful and made from finest craftsmanship, seemed too poor for her magnificence. Unmarred by battle or by time, Lady Galadriel was the most beautiful and powerful elf remaining in Middle Earth.
Haldir the marchwarden bowed deeply. His own blonde hair was kept tied back in a horse tail to keep it out of his fair, angular face. He dressed simply in sturdy elvish-made leather armor and a grey cloak. Next to the Lady of the Wood, he and every other elf looked plain and uninteresting.
"Haldir, what I tell you now must not travel beyond this room. I see no reason to worry our people just yet." Galadriel swept across the room and settled in her throne, an ornate chair made from living wood. "I sense something to the north, in your section of the forest. Have your scouts noticed aught strange of late?"
"No, my lady," the marchwarden responded gravely. "All reports have been normal."
"We need a scouting party to go further north. Ask only for volunteers, and warn them that they may be placing themselves in mortal peril. Do it swiftly and discretely."
"My lady?" Haldir looked confused and concerned, but he trusted her implicitly. If she declined to divulge her concerns to him, he would not press the issue.
"I dare not speak it aloud, lest I sully the air of our fair house. Pay heed, Haldir."
Then, like strange music, her voice sounded in his head. I cannot say what or where, but a great darkness pressesmy mind. I know not its origin or its purpose, but it is imperative that we find out. We must discover what it is, and we must destroy it before it spreads. I will not risk more lives than necessary, Haldir. Ask for volunteers only.
"I understand, my lady. Consider it done." With another bow, the marchwarden turned to leave.
"Marchwarden?" the lady called, making him pause at the doorway. "Choose wisely. Good night."