Wild Oats
Chapter II: Leviathan
Time was of little significance when one had it aplenty.
Astute as he was, Haldir had little doubt that without the rigourous regularity of the Galadhrim, he would be one of those elves who lived months as if they were hours, and years as if they were days.
Malthalonels, however, chased and hunted down the minute.
And as Marchwarden, the unfortunate task of managing Nerthriel of Rivendell befell him.
In the space of two months, she had proceeded to uproot the operations of the Lórien stables, and the ripples were threatening to spill over into the broader regimen of the Galadhrim.
It had begun innocuously enough with an offhanded comment on how Sirdal's coat lacked shine.
Feeling obliged to defend the honour of his horse, Haldir had answered sardonically, "I apologise, my lady, is he not pretty enough for you?"
Nerthriel pinned him with a piqued stare. "A dull coat is a symptom of deficiency in essential oils, Marchwarden. We use borage and rosemary as remedies in Rohan, do you grow them here in Lórien?"
Haldir did not miss the entirely natural use of "we" in her reply, and said, "You will have to speak to Lord Celeborn. He takes a particular interest in gardening."
Little did he know that, as he watched her march steadfastly towards Caras Galadhon, she had intended to completely overhaul the feeding regime of each of Lórien's thirty horses.
"Oats," she had declared, "Are the fodder of warhorses."
As Lórien only grew enough oats to feed its population of three thousand, Celeborn authorised the ploughing of a new oats field behind the stables - which in turn required the Sentinels' assistance, impeding their strict drilling routine for one day.
Haldir let it slide.
An uneventful fortnight later, he learned that the Lord and Lady had approved of the construction of a new stables complex in Taur Hith, in the north of the realm.
"New stables, my Lady?" he asked.
Galadriel informed him that Nerthriel had negotiated the trade of thirty horses with Mirkwood, whose breeding yards had produced a glut of foals in the last two years that they were keen to offload.
"The delegation arrives in early spring. I trust that there is sufficient time to make appropriate arrangements?" asked Galadriel mildly, sitting regally on her throne.
Making appropriate arrangements, as the Lady delicately put it, disrupted the Galadhrim's schedule for the entire winter.
It was fortunate for Nerthriel that she did not need to work with Haldir for those first few weeks as winter crept in, as it was Orophin who supervised the running of the stables.
Haldir, on the other hand, had the unenviable task of reallocating manpower within the thousand-strong Galadhrim in order to build the new stables in time. It was an exceedingly complex and tedious exercise, and it did not help that he abhorred bureaucracy. Even his own brothers steered clear of him as fall hardened into winter, letting him burn off the frustration of adjusting to a new routine on the archery range.
However, Lórien was shielded from the harshest elements, and winter thawed quickly into spring.
The ground was soon strewn with golden Mallorn leaves, which had fallen to make way for the new year, softening Haldir's already muted footsteps.
Nerthriel lived near the great River Anduin, not far from the bridge leading into Caras Galadhon. When he reached the talan, an elleth was exiting with a wash basket, who hastily curtseyed at the sight of him. "Are you looking for lady Nerthriel, my lord? She is at the leathersmith's this eve."
"Thank you, my lady," answered Haldir, then reached out to take the basket from her. "Here, let me."
The maiden blushed prettily and ducked her head with a smile.
Nerthriel had decided to take the evening off, and opted to spend it with the leathersmith's daughter, designing saddles for the cavalry. Not only did Aredhel have exceptional talent in her craft, she was also very pleasant company after a long day at the stables surrounded by ellyn.
Aredhel was sketching patterns with charcoal, and without looking up, said, "I hear the Mirkwood horses will be arriving soon."
"Hence the orders for the new saddles, my dear," replied Nerthriel. "I really like this leather."
Keen elf-eyes assessed the leather sample critically. "It is lovely. In fact, the Lord and Lady's saddles are made of that leather. But it might be too heavy for long-distance riding."
Nerthriel sighed. "I suppose I will have to commission a saddle specifically for the purpose of leisure, then."
Aredhel laughed lightly. "How is the construction of the new stables? Will they be built in time?"
"Just about. The Marchwarden has replaced some of the companies' combat training sessions with stables building."
"And how is working with the Marchwarden?"
Nerthriel shrugged. "We have not worked together much - yet. And thank the Valar for that, I have heard gossip that his men had to bear a particularly foul bout of temper these couple of months."
"He doesn't have a temper," said Aredhel, then added thoughtfully. "It is more of a silent, menacing force of character."
She chuckled. "He doesn't shout, does he? I am not ashamed to admit that the only time I have ever cried in public was when I was shouted at by a lieutenant in Rohan."
With a grin, Aredhel said, "Mortals only shout because they forget that we have sensitive hearing. I imagine you will find working with the Marchwarden a satisfactory experience."
"Ha! And I imagine it would be like dealing with men in general - exhausting."
A third, crisp voice interjected wryly, "I shall take that as a compliment, on behalf of all men."
Startled, Nerthriel whirled around rather clumsily. She bit her lips to stop their downward curve and managed a stiff smile. "Marchwarden, to what do we owe this pleasure?"
"I am here to inform you that Lord Celeborn has approved of the budget for the cavalry, so you may proceed with the purchase of equipment." Haldir swept his eyes over the oak table laden with scrolls of saddle sketches and squares of leather. "Which I see you have already done."
"I am a fast worker, I make no apologies for it," replied Nerthriel.
"So you shall not." Then, turning to the other elleth, Haldir bowed gallantly. "Lady Aredhel, I thank you for your contribution to this task. I shall visit your father at his workshop soon to pay my compliments."
"You are very kind, Marchwarden," replied Aredhel simply with a smile.
"I know it is late, but I do have urgent matters to discuss with you, lady Nerthriel."
She did not bother to hide the frown that creased her brow. "But I was about to get supper -"
"Good," interrupted Haldir. "As was I. I shall have supper prepared for the both of us. I expect your presence in half an hour at the council library. Good night, Lady Aredhel."
The ladies dipped their heads as he left, and once the door closed behind him, Nerthriel met Aredhel's eyes and sighed loudly. "He always makes an exit before I can say no."
"You can come back tomorrow evening," Aredhel assured her, patting her hand fondly. "I will bring more leather samples with me as well so we can make a decision."
"Very well," conceded Nerthriel. "Good night, my friend!"
With that, she swiftly made her way back to her talan, not far from the leathersmith's. She eagerly took off her uniform, which was still damp from a poorly executed swing of a water bucket earlier in the afternoon. She slipped into a soft gown and silk slippers, smiling at the more than welcomed change to the stiff breeches and muddy boots she had spent the day in.
The council library was in Caras Galadhon, and Nerthriel had to run the last few yards in order to make it on time. She knew for a fact that Haldir did not tolerate tardiness - his own brothers failed to escape his wrath when they turned up late for training after a night of revelry.
The library was reachable only by a concealed flight of narrow stairs within the Mallorn tree on which the Lord and Lady's court was built. Nerthriel paused briefly when she reached the secret doorway, halfway up the wide spiral of steps, swallowing to moisten her dry throat. She also realised that her palms were clammy with perspiration, and she impatiently rubbed them against the folds of her dress.
The door swung open smoothly, and her heart beat rapidly as she stepped into the cavern. She was nervous, that much was clear. Haldir was as much an institution of Lórien as Celeborn and Galadriel were, a leviathan even in the circle of the most revered warriors. If there was one elf who could make her doubt her ability to bring something of value to the realm, it would be him.
The council library was one of the few chambers that was underground, and it was certainly one of the best guarded. Nerthriel heard from Orophin that the library housed scrolls and books older than Middle Earth itself, and she suspected that it had strong enough magic to protect it from even an army of Orcs.
In measured steps, she made her way down the stairs absolutely soundlessly in her slippers, and indeed the Marchwarden had not heard her. He had his back to her, perusing the map laid flat on the massive table in front of him, illuminated by dozens of candles. He too had changed out of his uniform, the silver of his tunic blending in with that of his hair.
Steeling herself, spine straight and head held high, she said deliberately too loudly, "I hope there will be wine at least." She allowed herself a small smirk as she detected the tiniest twitch of surprise in his posture. "Appropriate incentives have to be aligned in order to compel me to work such late hours."
Haldir arched an eyebrow as she approached. "You appear to be in high enough spirits."
"Only at the sight of this delicious supper," she quipped, sitting down adjacent to where he stood. Silently, she admired the understated grandiose of the library with its elegant, off-white bookshelves, arches and muted frescoes on the high ceilings. It was nowhere as magnificent as Lord Elrond's library at home in Rivendell, but it had the same soft majesty that pervaded the whole of Lórien.
The Marchwarden poured her a glass of watered down wine without her asking, and then sat down himself, leaning back easily in his chair. "How are you finding Lothlórien, my lady?"
Taking a sip of wine, she said lightly, "Coming from you, even small talk sounds frighteningly like interrogation."
He set the jug of wine on the table after pouring himself a glass. "I do apologise if you feel threatened at all by my humble attempt at pleasantry."
Haldir was looking at her so seriously that she wondered if he understood humour at all. However, she gave it one last try. "Can you blame me after witnessing your brutal display on the fields today?"
After a pause, he almost grumbled, "That fool nearly shot my horse."
Nerthriel's lips twisted in amusement. "Sirdal is a clever horse, he would've had no problem dodging that arrow."
He turned to her and surprised her with a smile. "Two compliments in one night. By the Valar, I must be doing something right."
She returned it and reached out to pick up a fig. "Well, what did you want to discuss, Marchwarden?"
"The Mirkwood delegation," he answered. "Roast boar, my lady?"
Nerthriel held out her plate. "Thank you. Yes, they sent word that the delegation will be here in a fortnight."
"Now that the Taur Hith stables are almost completed, I suppose the most pressing issue to resolve is the payment for the horses," said Haldir.
"Ore," replied Nerthriel immediately, pouring a generous ladle of gravy over the boar. "You want to pay in ore. Darkness has long claimed most of the mines in Mirkwood, and I know that there is an almost critical shortage of metals for weapons. I hear there is an abundance of ore to be mined in Lórien."
She helped herself to vegetables whilst Haldir deftly carved out a slices of meat for himself. "The Lady mentioned that you apprenticed at Mirkwood when you were younger?"
"More than three hundred winters ago now," she replied. "My father has a close relationship with Lord Thranduil's horse master, so it was a convenient arrangement."
"How long were you there for?"
Nerthriel paused while she chewed. "Just over half a century. It was my first apprenticeship."
"And how long were you resident in Rohan?"
"Seventy-four years," she answered. "I served four Lords of the Riddermark."
Haldir lifted up his glass and arched an eyebrow. "Forgive my forwardness, but you live a rather unconventional lifestyle."
"Not for my family," replied Nerthriel, desperately pushing down defensive shackles that were rapidly rising. She looked down at her half-eaten dinner to avoid his gaze. "I follow in my father and my brother's footsteps, and their brothers' and fathers' before them. It was all I knew growing up."
She stopped abruptly, and a potent rift of silence welled up between them.
"I apologise, I am making you uncomfortable," said Haldir shortly.
She shrugged, fixing her eyes on the marble bust of an elf she did not recognise over the smouldering fireplace. "Perhaps we should focus on the task at hand."
Haldir bowed his head in agreement. "Certainly. We need your knowledge of Mirkwood and your connections to steer the talks to a fruitful conclusion at the negotiation table."
Nerthriel turned to him and smiled. "That is what I am here for."
"I have reviewed the budget with Lord Celeborn. We have a windfall from an exceptional spell of trading last year. However, accounting for the significant costs of the cavalry, we need to strike the best deal possible with Mirkwood."
"I understand," said Nerthriel, pushing her now empty plate away. "The good news is that Mirkwood is desperate to get the horses off their hands. They have no more space in their stables and the young horses are of a good lineage. The horse master would rather let them go for a lower price than have them go to waste."
"That certainly bodes well for us, then. I trust you will want to be part of the negotiations?"
"If you deem it appropriate."
"Indeed, I deem it advantageous."
"So be it. Let me know when you have a list of the envoy. We can then perhaps discuss arbitration strategies."
Haldir actually stopped, a wedge of potato halfway to his lips, to regard her with his pale blue eyes. "Very good. I am glad I am not the only one who believes in premeditated negotiations."
Nerthriel tilted her head to one side, and then picked up her wine glass to propose a toast. "To likemindedness."
Mirroring her movements, Haldir clinked her glass, and added, "And to a successful partnership."
A couple of days later, Haldir found her sitting at the foot of a Mallorn tree, nestled comfortably among the exposed roots with a book in her lap.
He cleared his throat pointedly and asked, "What are you doing?"
Flipping over a page, Nerthriel answered with her eyes still on the book. "The horses aren't familiar with the landscape - three of the Rohan horses have already sprained their legs. They are used to soft, flat land and they need to learn to be more careful here."
Looking at the completely empty stretch of forest around them, he asked, "What horses?"
She looked up, unfazed by the absence of her stallions, and beamed instead. "You found Hathelas!"
"Yes, I found him grazing on lady Daernîth's private garden, in Caras Galadhon. Twenty miles from here."
Nerthriel stopped laughing at his stern glare and rubbed Hathelas's velvety nose affectionately. "Oh, but it is so funny, Marchwarden! This horse has the most endearing sense of humour."
"It most certainly is not amusing. Lady Daernîth was in tears," he chided. "I expect you to go apologise in person."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Eager to please lady Daernîth, are we?"
He ignored her comment completely. "And where are the other horses? I'd better not find them wandering into Lady Galadriel's garden."
"They must have followed Beorn," supposed Nerthriel. "Do not worry, Marchwarden, my horse can easily find his way back to the stables."
Haldir let out a long breath with a hint of agitation, before tethering Hathelas to a low-lying branch. "Your methods are questionable, at the very least. Regardless, I thought you would be interested to know that I have a list of the Mirkwood envoy."
Nerthriel closed her book. "Oh, excellent. Let's hear some names."
He retrieved the list from a pocket in his tunic, and read out loud, "Lord Rochirion."
"Of course, the horse master."
"Lord Thandtôr."
"The metalsmith. He would soften up Lord Rochirion."
"Crithadaer."
"He runs the stables. He would be coordinating the transport of the horses."
"They will be arriving by boat, I presume?"
"It is the safest passage," confirmed Nerthriel.
"Very well, we shall arrange a welcoming party on the northern shores of the Anduin," said Haldir. "Also attending is Prince Legolas."
Nerthriel hesitated, and it didn't evade Haldir's attention. He asked, "What is it?"
"Gossip mongering?" she shot back.
He eyed her benevolently. "No, but if there is anything that will jeopardise the negotiations you will tell me."
"There is nothing to tell," replied Nerthriel firmly.
"Fine. I will call a meeting with the Lord and Lady soon regarding the negotiations, and your presence will be required," said Haldir, folding the parchment neatly and returning it to his pocket. "On another note, I would like to invite you to the trials for the next lot of Sentinels tomorrow. It would be beneficial for you to observe how the Galadhrim recruits its soldiers, and you might pick out potential talents for the cavalry as well."
She smiled. "Thank you for the invitation, Marchwarden. I gladly accept it."
He nodded once, and turned to leave. "We start at the archery range at sunrise. I take my leave, my lady."
"Until tomorrow, Marchwarden."
The day of the Sentinel trials dawned bright and dewy, and the dusk set on a lively, celebratory soiree that lasted well into the night.
The newly drafted Sentinels were of impressive calibre, and that put Haldir in an exceptionally good mood. As was custom in Lothlórien, the kin of the successful Sentinels spared no expenses in preparing a grand feast that same evening with the finest foods, an excess of wine, and plenty of music and dancing.
In the company of his brothers and men, Haldir imbibed a dozen glasses of unwatered wine throughout the evening, filled with laughter and merry conversation.
"Nerthriel!" called out Orchalron, who was Orophin's right hand at the stables, at the height of the festivities. "Come sit with us!"
Haldir looked up to see her walking over, her cheeks flushed from drinking or dancing he knew not. Nerthriel softened considerably when she was out of her uniform, and tonight she wore her hair loose with kohl lining her eyes.
"My lords." She swept into a dramatic curtsey with a bright smile, a full goblet of wine in one hand. "How are we this fine evening?"
"I don't know about these fools, but I myself am enjoying the spectacular view of your beautiful friends," said Rúmil with a roguish grin.
Nerthriel slipped into an empty spot on the bench, opposite Haldir, and slapped Rúmil on the shoulder. "Oh no, you scoundrel! I have few enough friends as it is without you trying to steal them away from me!"
"Everyone here will vouch for me that I am the furthest thing from a scoundrel!" protested Rúmil and clasped her hand to his chest. "You must believe me, Nerthriel!"
"Well, out of everyone here, I am most inclined to take your brother's word," she answered. "Tell me, Marchwarden, is Rúmil here to be believed?"
Haldir smirked. "I am torn between loyalty to my integrity or to my next of kin."
"Oh look!" exclaimed Orophin suddenly with a nudge in Haldir's ribs. "I think the Marchwarden has caught the eye of one fair maiden, who happens to be one of Nerthriel's acquaintances!"
Haldir nearly rolled his eyes as all eight occupants of the table simultaneously craned their necks to catch sight of this allegedly interested elleth. He coolly brought his goblet of wine to his lips and glanced discreetly at the direction of the small group of ellith by the fountain.
He recognised her instantly - it was Nerthriel's washmaid. As if sensing his gaze, her lovely face swivelled in his direction, and she smiled at him again.
"I think that smile was a gesture of welcome, Marchwarden," suggested Malfindon, one of the finest archers in the land. "Am I right, Nerthriel?"
She laughed and shook her head. "You are like a pack of wolves! I must go and defend my friend's virtue from you rogues." Her goblet now empty, Nerthriel stood up and gave Haldir a deliberately coy smile. "Her name is Avornien, in case you were wondering."
He watched her walk away, and when she crossed Avornien in his line of vision, he downed the rest of his wine in one quick gulp. His men thankfully did not notice when he left the table as unostentatiously as he could manage.
He sidled up beside Nerthriel at the refreshments table, where she was pouring herself yet another goblet of wine.
He picked up a bottle and did the same. "Surely you have drunk enough tonight?"
She neatly corked the bottle and turned around, leaning back on the table. "If you are worrying about my punctuality tomorrow morning, you needn't. I might just stay up all night."
They languished in comfortable silence for a few moments, before she spoke again. "Or in fact, you are worried about Avornien. Does the Marchwarden need my help in seducing a sweet, innocent maiden?"
Amused, Haldir peered at her. "I am perfectly capable of holding my own in the game of seduction, I will have you know."
"Ah, and there I was thinking your arrogance has come to a head. This head," she jested, flicking his forehead playfully.
Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he slowly pulled his face away. "Your capacity for humour knows no bounds, my lady. Since you were accusing us of roguishness, I thought you would approve if you introduced me instead."
"Oh, very well," she relinquished. "But you must promise to be on your best behaviour."
Haldir sighed and placed a sincere hand over his heart. "Yes, you have my word, my lady."
She smiled. "Alright, come along now, Marchwarden."
As Haldir emerged from Avornien's talan the next morning, he felt the chill of the early spring keenly. His head throbbed, but he knew it would not show on his habitually stoic face. The trees were just starting to blush, tickled pick by the fingers of dawn. As he made his way across Caras Galadhon, he mused that it had been a while since he had indulged himself as he had last night.
Avornien was a beautiful elleth with a kind soul, and he was careful to be as attentive as he could. It was a satisfactory night indeed. She was still asleep when he left, and he had quickly gone outside to pluck a handful of delicate blooms he had spotted near her talan, leaving them on her pillow, before departing for the stables.
Nerthriel had been devising cavalry drills with the help of Orophin and Orchalron, and this morning they were testing out the plans under the watchful eye of Haldir. It was their objective to set out a training manual by the time the horses arrived from Mirkwood so that the development of the cavalry could begin in earnest.
Haldir crossed the bridge out of the city, and he could see the stables glow warmly from a distance. His feet traced the familiar path along the river Nimrodel, anticipating the early morning ride. He knew that Nerthriel had been working assiduously on the drills, and he hoped that Lady Galadriel had not misplaced her trust in the house of Malthalonel.
The warmth of the stables enveloped him like a cloak as he entered. Orophin was already there, grooming his horse, as was Orchalron and several other Sentinels who had been selected to embark on the ride.
"Good morning, Marchwarden," greeted Elerossë, who was saddling up Sirdal.
"Good morning, Elerossë," he replied as he patted his horse. He glanced over at Beorn, who was standing a few stalls down, swishing his tail. "Is lady Nerthriel here?"
"There is no sign of her yet," replied the stable hand. "Lady Nerthriel is never late, though. She must have been held up."
Haldir frowned. They were supposed to set off as soon as the sun rose. He had an arduous schedule that day and he intended to adhere to it.
Ten minutes later Haldir found himself at her door, sharply rapping on it, thrice.
There was absolute silence, then his ears picked up a frantic staccato of footsteps. Without warning, Nerthriel's ashen face appeared at the threshold. "Morgoth! I am so sorry, Haldir, I won't be two moments. Please, come in."
With that, she spun around and sprinted into a chamber. As she had left the door ajar, he stepped into her talan and waited patiently.
Hers was a modest talan, but with a beautiful view of the Anduin. It was clean and sparse, with only her weapons adorning the smooth walls.
Haldir looked up when a door slammed shut, and he frowned.
By the uniform, Haldir judged that it was a soldier from the eleventh company.
"Marchwarden," he said, alarmed, before saluting him. "My apologies, I did not know you were here."
Haldir gave him the stoniest stare he could muster, and said, "I suggest you move on now."
The soldier, flustered, nodded and rushed out of the talan, closing the door behind him.
No sooner had his footsteps petered out of earshot, Nerthriel dashed most inelegantly into view. As she dismantled her bow and quiver from the wall, she said, "I am ready. We must hurry."
Haldir crossed his arms. "Not so quick, my lady."
Shouldering her bow, she looked at him, perplexed. "What is it?"
"Was that a soldier of the Galadhrim who scurried out of your bedchamber?"
Nerthriel opened her mouth as if to protest, then changed her mind. "Yes. Yes, but -"
"That is a breach of protocol, of which I am sure you are well aware," interrupted Haldir, bearing steadily down at her while she looked at her boots.
"I didn't mean for it to happen," she said quietly.
"As Marchwarden, I have to discipline you both. This is grounds for dismissal, Nerthriel -"
Her eyes flashed. "Are you telling me that I am not allowed to seek out pleasurable company? Because as far as I am aware you did the same last night!"
"She was not a soldier of the Galadhrim!"
She gave him a withering glare. "Well, can you point me to an ellon in Lórien who is not in the Galadhrim, Marchwarden?"
"There are plenty of eligible bachelors should you choose to practise that lifestyle," he said dryly.
"Do not patronise me!"
"I am doing no such thing," insisted Haldir. "You do realise this has as much to do with you as the men who hold you in high regard. You have worked hard for that respect, Nerthriel, but if they catch wind of what happened last night, it all goes to waste."
Her anger promptly wilted, and she looked away, smoothing a hand over her slightly disheveled hair. "I know, I know! And I understand you have your duty to uphold. But, it's just - lonely. It's very lonely where I am."
He stayed silent, slightly mystified at the turn of the conversation, and she continued. "I wake at first light, I spend all day with the horses, I train all day. I only see my men, or Orophin or Malfindon. By the time I am done at the stables it is too late to see my friends, and they are scarce. Last night was the first time I'd had the chance to even meet anyone outside the stables, and when he approached me -"
She trailed off uneasily, her eyes barely flickering to his before looking out the closed window.
Haldir stood stock still as his mind turned over the situation. He was not exaggerating the fact that affairs within the Galadhrim were strictly forbidden and punishable by expulsion, though he had in the past turned a blind eye to clandestine relationships as long as they stayed covert. He frowned, then on a long breath, he caved. "I do owe you a favour for introducing me to Avornien."
Nerthriel looked almost startled at his response.
"Make sure he doesn't talk," he commanded, putting his hands behind his back to draw himself to his full height. "You will not compromise what you have accomplished so far due to one intoxicated mistake. You shall not see him again, and anything of this sort is not to happen again. Understood?"
"You do realise that no one talks to me like that, Marchwarden," she said with an impertinent grin.
He moved towards the door and held it open for her. "I am your superior, whether you like it or not."
"Interesting," she remarked. "As I understand it, I am not in the Galadhrim hierarchy, and therefore not in any way under your command."
Haldir tried a different tact. "I happen to know of a very eligible bachelor who is an excellent scholar. I have no qualms about withholding his identity as incentive for good conduct."
She burst into laughter, and moved past him to take to the stairs. "I like your thinking, Marchwarden. We have an agreement. Now, let's not dawdle." Then she paused and looked at him over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. "You will find that I absolutely do not tolerate tardiness."
He conceded that it was an uncanny impression of him.
Chapter Notes:
- For a clearer idea of the geography of Lorien, I suggest you search for a map on Google. I used one from a website called "thebrasse" that shows you all the different districts of Lorien. The new stables are situated in the northern district called Taur Hith, while the existing stables are in the south west in Nimrodel.
- I made up the council library, I like to think of it as a kind of "war room". There will be more of it in future chapters!
- There is no definitive guide to the structure of the Galadhrim, so I am using the most generic military ranks and terms as I go along. I will strive to be as consistent as I can in this respect.
- In case some of you don't speak beginner's Elvish: ellyn is the plural of ellon, which means a male elf; ellin is the plural of elleth, which means a female elf.
Author's Note: This chapter turned out to be twice as long as the first, and I am quite happy at the way it turned out! But not nearly as happy at the response from the last chapter - thank you for your kind words, I am very glad that you are enjoying the story so far! I am still in the early stages of developing both Haldir and Nerthriel's characters, and their relationship as well, so that will remain quite fluid, though hopefully consistent. Again, please leave a review if you liked what you read. I will update as soon as I can.
