rushing darkness, where is the light? Arthoniel could not find the light. A great wave had torn her tiny one-person boat to splintered shreds of grey wood, plunging her into the abyss below. Her lungs scorched without the sweet caress of air as the true horror of the ocean's depth took hold. She thrashed and she clawed her way to the surface, only to be pushed back under by another wave, seeming intent upon preventing her from going any farther from shore. A primitive instinctive overtook her mind, and she took in a great gulp of air only to have her lungs burn even more with a salty caress and her throat constrict as if on fire. The bitter taste of seawater flooding her mouth, her nostrils, her lungs. Water was tugging her down, tangling in her hair, her clothes, tangled in her very feå it seemed. Underwater. She was underwater and she was drowning.

X

And so, at the beginning of the Third Age of this world, Haldir, March Warden of Lothlorien, stood upon the sandy shores of the west and watched the great swan ship sail into the horizon until it was but a small gleam of white oak and then further, until it had disappeared from his view entirely. Sighing, with something close to melancholy in his heart at the sight, he turned and headed back to his Lady and Lord, standing together a little distance away upon a great rock, who had been watching their elves leave for the Undying Lands. The Lord and Lady very rarely took this last journey with their people, but this was a special occasion. The boat had been laden with those Lorien elves who had, despite victory over the darkness, lost their love for Middle Earth. Sauron's evil had touched them all and some had never recovered. Others had lost their mates or family members to the War of the Last Alliance and could no longer bear the troubles of this world alone. Others had been close to their last King, the mighty Gil-Galad. His death had been terrible, and many of his people felt adrift without his guidance. Haldir did not blame them, his own parents had sailed long ago, when the first evils of this world had still stalked the land.

Silently moving across the soft sand, his supple elven boats rarely leaving a footstep, he approached the golden couple and bowed deeply, conveying his understanding and sympathy at the loss of some of their people. Galadriel turned her sapphire gaze from the sea to look at him, her eyes penetrating, yet soft.

It is not a true loss, my March Warden.

Her voice in his head was like a balm to his melancholy thoughts of his peoples' sea longing. Bowing his head, he mentally shoved such thoughts from his mind, instead focussing on the task at hand.

'My Lady, my Lord, the wardens have prepared a camp for the night before we depart for the Golden Wood tomorrow.' At his words, Rumil, his youngest brother, golden haired and golden spirited, appeared out of the shadows bearing a silver lantern that reflected against the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist, and the quiver of arrows upon his back. Rumil bowed low to his Lord and Lady.

"Please, if you would follow me, my Lord, my Lady, I would escort you to the camp safely.'

Inclining his head as the trio left, Haldir decided he would scout the perimeter of the western shore one last time. This area was relatively safe, but Haldir would never take chances with the lives of his rulers. Had had several of his best wardens accompanying them on this journey and he knew they stood sentinel around the perimeter of the camp, unseen but quietly guarding and scouting for danger.

X

Arthoniel felt her toes, her legs, her fingers, her arms go numb in the frigid sea as she valiantly tried to keep her head above the water. It was becoming useless to fight for her body was exhausted from the cold and from the exertion of swimming.

Is this what death feels like? Perhaps it is not so bad. Perhaps this is the will of the Valar. Clearly they have forsaken me but who can blame them? I have been denied passage to Aman for my failure to protect her light.

Arthoniel, now barely managing to float above the water, felt a single tear slide down her pale cheeks as she thought of her failed mission so long ago to save her younger sister from being caught up in the host of Feanor, and the terrible doom that was then placed upon them. She had not been quick enough, and Gilleth had paid the ultimate price.

I am coming Gilleth, I am just so sorry we could both not be reunited in life.

With her remaining will, she turned her eyes up to the cloudless night sky to see the stars of Varda shining down at her, in all their beauty. Amidst her slowing thoughts, she thought the stars looked sad at her predicament and wished them not to be.

Arthoniel's last coherent thought was that although Ulmo had forksaken her passage, at least Varda had not forsaken her so much as to hide her stars as slipped into oblivion.

X

Many hours later, Haldir still crept along the shoreline, never more than a shadow in his grey Lorien cloak, his eyes always searching for potential threats. Something lingered at the edge of his mind and although he could not name it, he knew he would find no rest here tonight.

It was then that his sensitive elf ears picked up a strange sound of wood scraping against stone, ahead of him, further around the corner in the next bay. Quickening his pace, keeping his senses finely attuned, he stepped over a boulder to find a most peculiar sight. Pieces of grey wood, in some places, smashed to splinters, were scattered all across the little inlet. Frowning, the March Warden bent down and picked up a piece of cloth that looked to have once been part of swan ship sail. He was about to turn and head back to his wardens to order a search for more clues as to this mystery when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pale form, glowing softly in the light of the stars, floating in the water. His heart thudding, Haldir splashed into the frigid water, wading up to his waist into a patch of kelp where the figure appeared to be snared, not quite believing his eyes as he hastened his pace.

By the Valar!

He reached for the form, which turned out to be an elleth. He silently prayed amidst his shocked concern.

Please let her be alive…

Her pale silver gown was sodden, dark tendrils of hair floated outwards about her like a shadow, contrasting even more against the pallor of her pale skin. Her eyes were closed, and Haldir scooped her carefully into his arms, praising the stars when her felt her heart beat and saw the subtle rise of her chest.

But she was so cold, like she had been formed out of ice.

Quickly, Haldir waded to the shore, where he laid her down as gently as possible and, with deft fingers undoing the clasp, covered her with his mighty cloak. Thinking she looked alone and very small against the sandy beach, he sat down with a soft sigh and cradled her in his arms, hoping to lend her his heat and taking a moment to observe her still form whilst his racing thoughts settled.

With a great alarm, he realised her stillness was too still, and quickly leaned her forward over his arm. With a great thump, he whacked her on the back, causing the elleth to come to with a start, take a great lungful of air and promptly vomit seawater onto the sand. Gently, he pulled her sodden tresses back from her fine featured face as she finished coughing and spluttering. At his movement she turned, her beautiful green eyes flickering in and out of focus, until at last they settled upon his eyes, where they widened in shock and fear.

Tears spilled from her green eyes and Haldir, without thinking, reached up to gently wipe them away. Her skin was softer than silk, he thought, and then frowned at the audacity of his own thoughts and actions.

Seemingly caught by surprise, she tolerated his touch briefly before she snared his hand in a surprisingly strong grip. 'You should have let me die.' Her damaged throat croaked at him, betraying the hurt in her eyes.

And with that, her green eyes shed two more tears and she collapsed onto Haldir's chest.

Stunned, Haldir frowned down at her small form nestled against him, before standing and sprinting back to the campfire. His sea maiden carefully bundled against his chest in his grey cloak.