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The elf maid Oreleth was sat upon a stool, her eyes intent on the canvas before her. Slender fingers guided a brush across its surface, shaping the paint how she desired it. Like many of the elves in Lórien, she was fair with long, blonde hair, which she now kept braided back out of her face. Her eyes were a clear blue and sharp enough to notice minute details. Though she wore no smock, her green dress bore not a stain or smudge of paint.
Pausing, she glanced beyond the canvas to the reference for her painting. A small flower bloomed among the leaves, flecked with morning dew and crowned by the sun. Oreleth frowned a touch and returned her gaze to her painting. She, and others in the forest, lived in treetop houses connected by bridges and ladders. For her, it was more convenient for her artistry. It offered her a better view of her surroundings and a better chance to spot her next project.
As she painted, another elf approached her home by way of one of the bridges. The marchwarden Haldir stepped lightly onto her porch and stood a respectful distance away, out of her light. "Quel amrun, Oreleth. We have not spoken for a time and I thought to see how you were faring."
The she-elf stepped back from her painting and turned to smile at him. "Quel amrun, Haldir. This painting gives me grief, but otherwise I cannot complain."
The marchwarden leaned around to look at the unfinished work. "It looks magnificent. What troubles you?"
Oreleth's face twisted briefly into a grimace. "I shall embarrass myself. Look there; see that flower? See how the sun's rays play about its petals and makes the dew glitter like diamonds? You see how the mist swirl around it in an endless dance? However good my paintings, they can never compare to such beauty."
"Alas, mellonamin, I am afraid only the Valar may create that. Aught we lesser creatures may create seems a mere shadow of the original subject. But, if we may appreciate it for what it is instead of comparing it to the creations of greater beings, we may find that it has a beauty of its own. Truly, I think it is wonderful."
Oreleth stared at her painting a moment before responding. "Ah, but you're right. Perhaps I was silly. It is, after all, one of my best works of late." She cleaned her brush in a bowl of water and set it aside to dry. "Would you like to come in for refreshment, marchwarden? As you said, we have not spoken for a time and I should like to catch up."
Haldir gave a small bow. "I should like that very much." Together, they went inside. Haldir settled himself on a chair while Oreleth prepared tea.
"How have you fared?" she asked once she finally sat down.
"Well enough, though a burden presses on my mind. Do you recall that scouting party I sent out? It was perhaps two months ago." When she inclined her head, he continued. "They have not returned, nor have I received any reports. It is most unlike our scouts not to send some word back."
"My, you sound like a mother hen fretting over her chicks! You trained those scouts yourself, Haldir. You prepared them as best as you may. Perhaps they are merely delayed." When the marchwarden didn't speak, she pressed on. "I suppose you still cannot tell me the purpose for their mission."
"No, and I beg you not to ask. Lady Galadriel bade me tell no one, save those who need know. I hope and pray it shall never be so serious that you should have to know, mellonamin." He set his cup down and rubbed his temples. "I shall say this: whatever is going on is serious enough now to cause the Lady some concern. In turn, it causes me great concern. I come to you to escape my troubles, else I fear I shall start wrinkling as the mortal races do as they age."
"I beg your forgiveness, Haldir. I did not know it was so serious." Oreleth reached over and gripped his hand softly. "You may visit whenever you like if it helps lessen your burden. I like our chats; they always brighten my days."
The ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "You are a kind friend."
With a final squeeze of his hand, she released him and stood. "Now, come back outside. I want to show you my next idea for a painting."
The pair talked long on the spacious porch surrounding Oreleth's home. She showed him ideas for her next works while he voiced his approval and offered a few suggestions of his own. Each discussed the new tidings in their lives since last they spoke, and eventually they wandered out together for a stroll among the trees. As they walked, they fell silent and enjoyed the familiar sounds of the forest.
"How fares your sister in Imladris?" he asked after a time.
"She is well. She writes me and tells me how everyone there loves her singing. She claims to be the best at improvising lyrics, but I find that difficult to believe. There are many talented and creative minds in Imladris. To think that my silly young sister would be the best!"
"She has come a long way from stealing your brushes and forgetting where she hid them."
"Yes! I still remember chasing her all around, and she would laugh and keep just out of my reach. I do miss her."
"Perhaps you should visit? I am sure she would like that."
"Yes, perhaps. I have thought of it."
"What keeps you here?"
She glanced at him, then gestured at the forest around them. "I love my home. I love my people. Lady Galadriel works to keep this forest a safe haven for us all. But my sister, whatever her reason, was never content to stay. Our mother claims she was restless in the womb. She is restless still.
"She has a free spirit. I wish I could be so free, but I'm afraid I also love this place too much to leave it for long." Oreleth paused on the sun dappled path and stretched her hands toward the leaves above her. "This is my home." Then, with a twirl, she danced down the path, her skirts billowing around her.
She was stopped by Haldir's sudden movement. In an instant his hand was on her arm, his body language suddenly tense, and his gaze sharp as he looked around. Oreleth realized then that the wildlife around them had gone quiet. No birds sang, no insects buzzed, no beasts rustled the undergrowth. All was eerily silent.
"Stay close to me," he whispered, pulling out his belt knife. The pair noiselessly moved forward, alert for any sign of danger. At last, Oreleth squeezed his arm and pointed. Hidden away in the underbrush was an unconscious scout, one from Haldir's missing party. Haldir rushed to him and gingerly pulled him free from the foliage, laying him out on the path they had been walking. Deftly, he found the scout's weak pulse, then checked him over for injuries. Meanwhile, Oreleth used Haldir's water skin to dampen a handkerchief and dabbed at the scout's face. The dirt and grime fell away, leaving behind-
"Haldir, look," she said tensely. The scout's face was marked by unsightly black, spidery veins just below his skin.
"What evil is this?" the marchwarden whispered. Taking the handkerchief, he wiped grime off of the scouts hands, chest, and even part of his leg where his trousers were ripped. Everywhere, he had the dark markings.
"He carries the smell of death, but he still lives," Oreleth murmured.
"We must bring him to the Lady, but we must not cause undue alarm. Can you help me?"
"Of course, Haldir. What must I do?"
Even for an elf, sneaking past elvish guards was no easy feat. Whenever there was no way to get around them, Haldir would bear the whole weight of the scout while Oreleth went and talked casually with the guards. After Haldir was clear, she took her leave and strolled on, ultimately catching up with him and sharing his burden. The worst would have been getting the scout up to Galadriel's throne room, but by then the Lady sensed their plight and sent trusted elves to assist. At last, they stood in the throne room with the scout laid out upon a table. Galadriel had one hand upon his brow, another upon his chest, her eyes closed.
After a long while of silence, she opened her eyes and stepped back. "This is an evil I have not seen before," she said gravely. "He rots from the inside. His insides turn black and his life is failing. I am amazed he made it as far as he did before he collapsed." Her gaze turned to Haldir and Oreleth. "Tell me again how you found him"
When they finished their retelling, the Lady had washed her hands thoroughly in a wooden basin and sat upon her throne. "And he did not wake up at all?"
"No, my lady," Haldir replied gravely. "He did not so much as stir."
Her gaze fixed on Oreleth alone. "How did you spot him? Guards patrol that path regularly and none of them saw him."
"As an artist, my lady, I am inclined to find small details easily missed. I noticed one of his boot buckles poking up from the undergrowth."
"I thank you, Oreleth. Had he been there much longer, he would have died before anyone found him. Even now, I am afraid I cannot help. We may only make him comfortable for his passing." She paused and looked over each elf before her. There were her marchwardens, her personal guard, and the artist Oreleth. Her husband, the Lord Celeborn, was out surveying the training of young elves.
"My friends, I am afraid I must burden you further. I beg your forgiveness for these dark tidings. I am especially sorry for you, Oreleth. Though you are but an artist, I feel I owe it to you to explain what has passed. What you see before you is the work of a dark sorcerer. It is not the work of a wizard, or even of any dark force of which we know. No, this is a strange new enemy.
"I was able to see into the scout's mind and glimpse some of his memories. Many were already fading, but I think I saw enough. As they traveled further north, the scouts were ambushed and captured by a swarm of goblins. Under normal circumstances, the scouts could have easily defeated goblins in that number, but I believe these were different. They were more organized, cleverer. They brought our scouts beyond our northern border to a great camp in the shadows of the Hithaeglir where they were kept without food or water. They were beaten, whipped, and humiliated.
"After weeks of this treatment, they were greatly weakened. It was then that they were well and truly tortured for information they had of Lórien. I believe they did not give up any of our secrets, however much pain they were in. And then at last, they met a woman. I could not see her clearly for she was veiled in shadow, but her voice was that of an elf. She told our scouts they were free to go, with her blessing." The Lady hesitated, her expression grim.
"And then, she gave them all her blessing. She cursed them all to rot from the inside until they were naught but a pile of ashes, and she let them go. All but this one died before reaching the forest's border."
A heavy silence fell upon the throne room. At last, it was broken when a marchwarden hissed, "A witch!"
"So it would seem, and she has an army of goblins, doubtless from the Hithaeglir themselves, at her beck and call. I fear if she targets our scouts, she may plan to launch an attack on our home." Galadriel locked eyes with each person in the room in turn. "My friends, I must ask you to assist me in preparations for battle. We must protect our home and the people we love."
The marchwardens chorused "Of course, my lady," while Oreleth simply stared, her face very pale.
"We must not cause undue alarm. Tell only the necessary people. I shall contact our brethren in the Greenwood and in Imladris in hopes that they may send aid." Her eyes fell once more on Oreleth, her expression kind. "Dear Oreleth, I pray you take heart. We shall defeat this evil, and you shall play a part. Will you stay and talk with me a while?"
"Yes, my lady," Oreleth whispered. Inside, she despaired. She was an artist, not a warrior. What good could she do in a battle? If only she had never gone on that stroll with Haldir! She didn't want to be involved in this.
"My lady, if I may?" Haldir stepped forward and bowed.
"Go ahead, marchwarden."
"If Oreleth is to be involved, may I suggest she be put in my care? We have been friends a great while and I think she would feel more comfortable if I were to train her."
"I shall take that into consideration. Now, I must ask all of you to excuse us. Oreleth and I have much to discuss."
Haldir gave Oreleth a reassuring pat on her back before he left, following the other marchwardens out. Four of them bore the fallen scout to take him somewhere comfortable to die. At last, Oreleth was alone with Galadriel.
"I know you are scared," the Lady began. "and I know this is a lot to take in all at once. I ask that you trust in me, and believe me when I say that you are vital for our success. I know not exactly what part you shall play, but I know it shall be the difference between victory and defeat. Can you trust me?"
Oreleth swallowed hard. "Yes, my lady. Of course."
Galadriel gestured at a chair. "Then come, sit. We must talk a while."