Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or anything associated with it. This story is merely for enjoyment.
Chapter One
The stench of death lingered near. A dark horse emerged from a group of trees, galloping thunderously across the plain. Its rider, clinging to the horse desperately, was slumped against the powerful neck of the beast and breathing harshly.
Large, beautiful trees loomed in the distance. The sight was not a threatening one, but a welcome one. At last, there was sanctuary and protection. The trees seemed to know the predicament of the rider and gave off a somewhat encouraging feeling. Indeed, even the leaves of the golden trees, swaying softly in the wind, sent messages of hope and safety to the distressed traveler.
The horse's hooves moved faster, digging into the ground with each stride and kicking up clumps of dirt. The horse lowered its strong neck and heaved forward, throwing all its strength into moving ahead toward the inviting sight of the mellryn before them.
The feel of the cool shade that the trees gave as they neared was as welcome as a long, cold drink on a hot day. With even more urgency, the horse and rider pressed on.
It was almost surreal when the exhausted pair reached the towering forest, as if in a dream. The horse slowed, the rider's strong grip on the reins slackened, causing the rider to fall even more onto the horse's neck, barely able to sit up.
"Daro!" The horse slid to an almost immediate halt at the harsh voice that came from all around them and echoed. The rider, brought from a daze as well, looked up into the trees, where the elves of Lorien would certainly be waiting.
As if on cue, the branches above them shook slightly, and several elves dropped to the forest floor in front of them, silver-haired and armed with long Galadhrim bows. One, taller than the others, approached the horse and rider swiftly, his cold gaze lingering on the unfamiliar sight of a black shrouded rider.
At this intimidating approach, the rider mustered every ounce of strength left and sat up as straight as was possible in the saddle. Instead of having the desired effect, though, the action only made the rider weaker. The image of the tall elf striding towards them became blurry, and the rider was distantly aware of the horse prancing nervously as she fell lifelessly into the dirt.
"The wounds are grave. This one has certainly become infected," a calm voice said.
Voices bounced around above her like insects, and she was only able to make out the sentences made every once in a while. Most were about the injuries she had sustained. She hadn't known they were that bad, she simply assumed that they stung from constantly being irritated by the ride.
"Can they be helped, Nestad? Will she last long enough to be taken into the city for treatment?" said another voice. She thought she recognized this as the one that stopped them when they had first entered, though he was speaking in a gentler tone.
"I have no doubt that Camen would be able to heal her fully, though I do not know whether she would last the journey, nor the time it would take for him to ride out here," the other voice, Nestad, replied. "We should wait and see if she lasts this night, and then make a decision on the morrow."
"We should leave another with her, to monitor her wounds," one said. She heard the healer, Nestad, make a sound of agreement.
"Gelinnas," the strong voice called, "keep close to her side; make sure her fever does not worsen."
She felt a presence sit near her. Vaguely, in her fatigued mind, she wondered whether the elf regretted being chosen to baby sit her. Her ears caught the sound of shuffling as the healer and the other voice moved away slightly, and she barely caught what was said by them next.
"Haldir, she may be of elf kind, but I would place all my knowledge on the fact that she will not survive this night. I have a suspicion that the weapon that gave her that gash in her side was laced with poison, and if so she has scarcely a chance," Nestad said.
"You are sure of this?" the other voice questioned. Presumably, the healer nodded.
This news distressed her. Poisoned? Impossible. Certainly she would have known if poison had affected her. Then again, she was lying half conscious on a pallet unable to move, and an indescribable pain had begun to make itself known in her midsection. Involuntarily, her face twisted in pain. The elf beside her moved at once, telling the healer of her change.
Instantly, he and the other one, Haldir, were back at her side. Her eyes were able to open slightly and she could see that same intimidating face floating above her, along with the peaceful, trusting face of the healer.
"What is your name, elleth?" said one. She could not tell which, her vision had begun to go bleary again, and the confusion distorted her sense of hearing. She tried to speak, but her throat was dry, and not a sound escaped at all.
A cool skin of water was placed at her lips and one of them held her head as she sipped the liquid gratefully. She felt a bit of energy return at this replenishing gesture. The rough, calloused hands cradled her head gently, as if she were made of glass.
"Better?"
She moved her head as much as she could, and then remembered that they had asked her name. Her own voice seemed strange and alien to her after so long a time without using it. It came out as only a weak moan at first, but eventually she managed a few words.
"Imlosel. My name is Imlosel."
She felt the healer prodding about her wounds for a little while before she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, catching only moments of needed rest. Images swam before her eyes, whether they were open or closed. Every moment she was awake, she could sense elves moving around her, changing bandages, or attempting to help her drink. When her eyes closed, the scenes that had taken place before her arrival continued to assault her.
She could hear the screams of the awful creatures scurrying from beneath the underbrush. She felt her horse's muscles bunch up beneath her as the frightened creature reared in surprise. She remembered the sting of the sword as it sliced through her body, unforgiving and utterly painful.
The sharp pain that had been felt earlier had eased to a dull, grinding ache. It felt as though there was a thick branch being pushed against her from the inside constantly. Even though she knew the healer was only doing what was needed to help her, his persistent examining did nothing to ameliorate the situation.
Through it all, she felt a steady, regular presence beside her. Whoever it was had not deemed it necessary to leave, and the thought amazed her. These elves had only just met her, and already they were more interested in her welfare than she was.
"Has her condition changed?" the voice of the healer asked. She heard his footsteps drawing near with gentle taps on the wooden floor of wherever they were. A talan, maybe?
"Not much, though it appears she is not as bothered by the wound as she was earlier," the presence beside her replied. Imlosel blinked in confusion, opening her eyes wider and turning to look beside her. She recognized that voice, and it was the last one she had expected to hear.
The March warden, Haldir, sat stoically beside her speaking directly to the healer. Had he really been near her the entire night?
"Ah, she's awake," the healer noted, looking past him. Haldir turned his silver head and looked down at her. Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes seemed to draw her in and read past her exterior.
"Perhaps she can answer a few questions now that she has regained her strength," Haldir said. He shifted himself so that he was facing her more directly.
As was expected, the healer knelt down beside her as well and resumed his assessment of her wounds. A light touch to her cheek brought her focus back to Haldir.
"Pay no attention to him," he said quietly. Imlosel steeled herself with a grimace as she tried to ignore the healer peeling back the hours old bandage.
"What was your reason for entering our borders?" he began. His eyes remained expressionless and yet altogether unthreatening as he stared impassively into her face, waiting for an answer.
"There is a message, in the pack, for your Lord Celeborn," she replied. "I was delivering it."
Haldir nodded. He looked to the shadows of the room where another elf was apparently waiting and, with a slight gesture, the elf moved swiftly from the talan. She supposed he was going to retrieve the message she had spoken of.
"How did you sustain these injuries?" he asked.
It was becoming increasingly hard to ignore the healer's hands cleaning her wound and disturbing the affected tissue. She closed her eyes slightly and answered him through clenched teeth.
"A small band of orcs was waiting near the banks of the Anduin a league from the north of your forest. They came upon me too suddenly, and I was not armed," she replied. Haldir nodded again in acceptance of her answer.
She was saved from elaborating on that subject as the elf that had been sent away from the talan had returned bearing folded parchment. A wax seal emblazoned the top of it.
She gasped as the healer finished tightening the new, clean bandage around her wound. He smoothed his hands around the covered wound and she felt a warmth spreading through her. He was doing all he could to help alleviate the pain, and she was grateful for it.
Exhausted by the small conversation, Imlosel lay back against the pallet in defeat. She willed her eyes to stay open and her mind to remain clear as she heard the healer and the March warden move to another end of the talan. Surely they were going to discuss her.
"Have you seen enough? Is she well enough to travel for help in the city?" that sounded like Haldir.
"I believe, if she was transported carefully and with proper attention given to her needs, she could survive the short journey. It is certain that Camen should see to her as soon as possible, the wound must be dealt with appropriately, and we have not the resources to do so here," Nestad replied. Silence ensued. A slight breeze could be heard wafting through the trees around them.
"Very well. A replacement troop is being sent as we speak, and as soon as they arrive tomorrow, we shall leave for the city."
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