Omg. What's this? An update? Yes laddies, it sure is. I REALLY struggled with this one. God, so much stuff to look up to do. I really wanted to dialogue to be right and still get my own twist, it looks like I failed in the latter. Thank goodness it's over now. About the final sentence: you will figure out soon enough what I mean by that ;) For now I am keeping you guys in the dark.
Chapter 10: Lady of Light
The Fellowship had climbed on one of the flets high up in the trees from where the elves probably had been watching them. A few meters ahead Aragorn and Haldir were discussing in hushed tone, and in elvish, whether or not they could pass through Lothlórien.
Silence settled on the Fellowship. Once, Frodo would have treasured it and laid down on his back to count the many stars up in the dark sky, but now he only felt discomfort and very conscious of the simple golden piece of jewellery that was hanging around his neck. He wished Gandalf was here with them.
'No, stop it! I am a Baggings of Bag-End! I would not let grief consume me; I will take a stance and fight.' Frodo could feel his heart swell as he gave himself a mental kick. "For Gandalf," he whispered softly to himself.
The hobbit looked up when Aragorn re-joined the rest of the group. Weariness was written all over his face, but he seemed pleased and that made something spark akin to hope in Frodo's heart.
"Well? Are we allowed to enter?" Maeve asked with a wavering voice that she tried to steady, but to no avail. Frodo noticed that she was eerily pale in the silvery light of the moon that seeped through the trees. She also seemed to shiver, but the hobbit guessed not from cold.
Aragorn nodded. "Yes we are, partly because they trust me and that you are wounded.. " He paused for a moment and took in how she leaned against the tree with her left hand pressed on her side. Apparently the run to Lothlórien gave her body more stress than she was willing to let on.
"How do you feel?" His voice turned quiet and concerned.
Maeve avoided his gaze and stroked some strands out of her face that stuck on her face. Her eyes scooted over the faces of her fellow companions, who all had the glint of worry in their eyes, and eventually snapped back to those dark grey depths of Aragorn with shameless pride swelling in heart as she thought about proving him wrong and that she was perfectly fine –if it weren't for the painful throbbing of her side and the feverish shiver that racked through her body.
"Cold. Tired," she merely said with a weaker voice than she'd wished.
Her head snapped up when Haldir approached them with his icy glare firmly in place. "I have agreed to let you venture further in Lórien, but on one condition.."
~~
In silence the Fellowship trailed after each other one shuffled step at a time. They were blindfolded and guided by the tall elves through the mysterious woods of Lothlórien. A faint breeze brushed Frodo's forehead and caressed the dark mop of hair hugging his scalp. He suppressed a shiver and tried to focus on his ears.
During the walk –that felt like hours- he had noticed that the forest had quieted except the sound of leafs being crushed beneath their feet and sensed the atmosphere had changed. He felt more serene and eased at heart than he had ever been when he started this journey.
Suddenly he bumped into his predecessor, his fellow hobbit Merry, and grunted. Why had they stopped? Was there something wrong?
Frodo felt long and nimble fingers fumble at the knot on the back of his head. The bright light that reached into his retina blinded him for a moment. In instinct his hand shot up in order to protect his precious eyes, but the moment he was used to it he gasped at the sight that was before his very being.
Trees, taller than he could ever imagine, reached up into the skies with silver staircases curled around its stem, forming various platforms on multiple levels and connecting to other trees by bridges. Everything was illuminated with carefully placed orbs of light, of what it consisted of Frodo couldn't say, but he could surely tell that they weren't like the lanterns with candles like they had in Hobbiton.
Baffled by the immense beauty of the place the Fellowship started to climb the stairs. Maeve had the feeling that the inhabitants of Lórien already knew of their coming and steered clear of their way, for they encountered none other elf during their ascend.
Maeve could feel with every step that the Lady of Lórien reign was strong here. Every time her feet would touch the stone surface she would feel something akin to a mere brush of the wind at the back of her head. Yet her skin felt none of the breeze.
Finally they halted in front of an archway where another set of stairs led up but beyond that she could see no more because of the archway itself and leafs. Haldir and the remainder of the guards removed themselves from the Fellowship and remained to the other side of the platform, almost out of view.
Briefly Maeve wondered why they had stopped and glanced sideways to her companions who gazed ahead to the staircase like they were anticipating something and glanced ahead herself with curiosity. The sight was mesmerizing.
Surrounded by light, almost like one of the true Valar, the Lady of Lórien ascended the stairs with a gracefulness that could never match a living creature on this very earth. Her pearly white hand was entwined with that of her husband Celeborn with a bright white ring slid around her ring finger.
'A ring of power,' Maeve thought and casted down her eyes to the heels of Aragorn standing in front of her. She thanked the fact that he spared her the fate of gazing into the Lady's eyes whether it was intended or not. Eyes. A shiver of fever then pierced through her the same time her ears caught the melodic voice of Celeborn.
"The enemy knows you have entered her," he muttered. "What hope you had in secrecy.. is now gone. Nine there are her, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell," he paused.
"Tell me; where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him and I can no longer see him from afar," Celeborn's voice echoed through the silent room. His eyes scanning the faces of the Fellowship, some facing him and some with downward eyes.
"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land," his wife beside him whispered. Her eyes grew big and gazed at Aragorn and Legolas.
"He has fallen into shadow."
Her solemn voice made Maeve to look up and observe a faint flicker of shock on the perfect face of Galadriel whose eyes were staring into the nothingness for a short moment when no one uttered a word. Celeborn looked at his wife with worry creasing between his brows.
"He was taken by both shadow and flame," Legolas spoke. Frodo stared at his hairy Hobbit feet with the memories of how he fell over the edge burned in his mind's eye. "It was a Balrog of Morgoth, for we were needlessly into the nether of Moria."
"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf. We do not yet know his full purpose," Galadriel whispered and gazed at Gimli next to Maeve. The dwarf looked up with clearly a heavy heart, for he felt it was his fault that they ventured down below to the bowel of the mountain and lost a good friend.
"Do not let the great emptiness of Khazadûm fill your heart Gimli, son of Gloín, for the world is now in great peril. And in all lands laugh is now mingled with grief."
Maeve could hear Boromir make a noise beside her that sounded like a mixture of a strangled gasp or a sob. She did not look at him though, no. Her eyes were boring a hole in the ground in front of her very feet. She felt the Lady's magic and the brief tugging of her mind that longed for her to look up and be enraptured by Galadriel's magnificence, but Maeve refused and focused with all of her willpower to keep glaring at her feet until her head started to feel lightheaded. Wait, that didn't sound alright.
"What now becomes of this Fellowship?" Celeborn asked. "Without Gandalf hope is lost." The hobbits dropped their heads in defeat and held their tongue. Even Pippin was silent and dared not to speak out of turn in front of these
"Your quest stands at the edge of knife. Stray back a little and you will fail and to the ruin of all," the Lady of Lórien whispered ominously. She then straightened her back and glanced at each and every one of them. "Yet hope remains, while the company stays true."
Maeve felt the Lady in her head. Her presence was now almost crippling her as a cold fever washed over her. She felt her wound jab viciously and instinctively took a gasp for air. Gimli quickly grasped her around the shoulders before she completely collapsed.
It was as if Aragorn awakened from some weird dream. He heard Maeve gasp out of pain behind him, which brutally reminded him that they were standing here for far too long. He bowed at the Lord and Lady in front of him before he said; "I am sorry to interrupt, my lord and lady. But one of our own is gravely injured and needs medical care. We have been running for a few days to the forest and had no time to let her wound heal properly."
Maeve vaguely felt a larger arm than Gimli's circle around her to support her. She was briefly aware of the warmth seeping through her fingers that desperately clutched her left side while her vision began to swim.
"I see," Galadriel slowly said, tasting the words and took in the female who had been avoiding her gaze and was eerily pale. Her eyes glided to her trusted commander who nodded firmly.
"I will take her Aragorn," Boromir whispered to the dark-haired ranger. Stormy eyes caught his.
"I suppose that nothing will go wrong, now that she has giving her blessings. Go with the hobbits, they need you more than I."
Aragorn nodded and allowed Boromir to grasp Maeve's left arm pull it across his broad shoulders, carrying some of her weight. His right hand caught her waist, careful not to dig in her flesh, to keep her stabilized.
"Follow me," Haldir said and turned as soon as he saw that they were ready to follow him.
Galadriel observed the worried glances the rest of the Fellowship shot at the retreating backs of her commander, Boromir and Maeve.
"She is in good hands, do not worry," she whispered motherly. "Now lay down your heavy mind and inner turmoil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."
Meanwhile, Maeve was hobbling with Boromir. Feeling her consciousness fail her several times during their walk to the hospital ward. The silver hair of Haldir in front of them shimmered ghostly in the strange orbs of light above them.
"Awake! You need to stay awake," Boromir said loudly in her ear trying to jolt her. Yet his voice seemed hollow and drowned out as her tired mind couldn't grasp the words. Just before her eyes were to close, someone else spoke. Not in her ear but in her very mind.
'Welcome, Maeve of Northern Waste. Witness of despair.'Then everything became black.