Guess who's back! And feeling incredibly guilty for making you wait this long for a chapter. Sorry :/ This one was difficult to write because a lot of it was improvised, and it isn't even that long. Apologies again. The next chapter will be back into the story, and might even be the end of the Fellowship of the Ring section! It gets more interesting from here, at least.
Also, I want to say thanks to all the new followers and favourites of this story. It blows my mind that so many of you have read this and liked it, and that despite the hiatus it's still getting followers!
Anyway, I've made you guys wait far too long for this, so here!
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Needless to say, Aragorn keeps us moving towards Lothlorien with hardly any breaks. I fall into a rhythm, grateful now for my improved stamina. Of all things, that's what this journey has given me so far. Apart from glancing at Romulus' bandages to make sure they're still tight enough, I keep my eyes on the ground, watching the hypnotic pattern of my own running feet.
As we move, the adrenaline wears off slowly, and eventually I'm all too aware of the cut on my arm. It throbs with pain, and I'm pretty sure it'll end up infected if I can't take a break to clean it soon. Grime and Orc blood probably aren't a good combination for open wounds.
The woods of Lothlorien are filled with huge trees. The great overhead canopies provide a serene atmosphere, although Gimli seems to want to ruin this.
"Stay close, young Hobbits! They say there's a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell..."
He pauses for emphasis, and Frodo in particular seems alarmed.
"...And are never seen again," finishes Gimli.
There is a brief pause in which everyone seems to contemplate these words.
"Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!"
I'm about to contradict him when an arrow appears in front of my nose, so close I have to cross my eyes to focus on it. An Elf holds the offending arrow in place on a huge, elegant bow. When I tear my eyes away from the weapon, I notice that the entire Fellowship is surrounded.
"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark."
A brief argument follows which takes us all the way into the evening. Legolas introduces us to Haldir, the sarcastic Elf. From what I could gather from the conversation he, Legolas, and Aragorn were having, the Elves were reluctant to allow us into Lothlorien. Eventually, Aragorn convinces Haldir to help us, and we're off again, following Haldir through the woods.
"Caras Galadhon. The heart of Elvendom on earth," Haldir says as we reach a hill overlooking the forest. "Real of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."
Caras Galadhon has a mystical air rivalling that of Rivendell. Great trees have winding staircases around them, lit by unknown sources of light. There is a constant presence of Elven singing, which relaxes the whole company.
We're led up one of these winding staircases by Haldir until we reach a flat court-like area. And there, seemingly glowing, stand Galadriel and Celeborn. Hand in hand, they descend to meet us. Everyone stares in awe, and Aragorn touches his head reverently in greeting.
"The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone," Celeborn begins grimly, "Ten there are here, yet eleven there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."
The looks on our faces must speak a thousand words.
"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into Shadow," Galadriel whispers. Even Celeborn glances at her in what must be wonder.
"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame," responds Legolas. His words send a pang of guilt through my stomach. "A Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."
"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose," Galadriel turns her gaze on Gimli. "Do not let the emptiness of Khazad-Dum fill your heart, Gimli, son of Gloin. For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands love is now mingled with grief." Here, Galadriel meets my eyes.
Unable to match her piercing gaze, I turn my head away, clenching my fists as my stomach fills yet again with grief and guilt. However, a voice speaks calmly in my head. "Please wait after this council, Renn. I wish to speak with you alone."
I glance up again at Galadriel, and she offers a brief, calming smile which I struggle to return.
"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost," speaks Celeborn slowly.
"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the Company is true." Galadriel's words seem to spark hope in everyone. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace..."
I tune out of the conversation until Haldir motions for the Fellowship to follow him once more. Legolas places a hand on my shoulder, but I shake my head, motioning to Galadriel, who waits patiently. He nods in understanding and leaves with a glance back to me.
I'll see you in a moment, Rommy, I lean down and scratch Romulus behind his ears. Aragorn's going to patch you up, okay?
Romulus nods, leaving and following the rest of the Fellowship. As he does, I turn to Galadriel, who beckons for me to walk with her.
"You are the Draughên, Renn," she begins after a minute or two of walking in silence. It's not a question, and I don't know how to respond to it. "Wrapped up in a prophecy you had never even heard of before."
"Not just the prophecy," I laugh bitterly. "This whole world. I didn't know how to fight. And I killed a living thing today. It was an Orc, but I still killed it." I glance up at Galadriel, before returning my eyes to the ground.
"How many of the Fellowship have you told about your dream?"
Galadriel's question takes me by surprise.
"You knew –" I pause, "- Of course you knew. Uhh, only Romulus, but he had the dream as well. We're meant to be 'helping' the Fellowship on this quest. Is this how I'm meant to help them? Predict deaths I can't prevent?"
The bottomless feeling of guilt returns to my stomach as I replay Gandalf's death in my mind. "He fell, and we both saw it and did nothing to tell him or stop it or –"
Galadriel stops me by placing her hands on my shoulders. "There was nothing you could have done, Renn," she says gently, meeting my eyes. "And I do not believe this is the last we have seen of Gandalf. You should not stress yourself over these dreams. Tell those you wish to about them, but keep hope."
I take a deep shuddering breath and nod quickly. "Thanks. I – I needed to rant. Sorry."
Galadriel smiles. "You can return to your companions. I do believe Romulus wishes to see you."
Sure enough, when I leave Galadriel's presence, I hear Romulus calling out. Are you coming?
Hold on, Rommy, I'm leaving now, I respond, a smile slowly appearing on my face. I'm still smiling when I reach the area where the Fellowship is spending the night. The area has a silvery glow and is calming.
Romulus sits by a tree. I flop down next to him and am glad to see neat stitches holding his gash closed. His fur is clean and dried, and he looks much healthier than he did when we exited Moria.
You should have your own cut cleaned, Romulus nudges my hand, and I lift it up to stroke behind his ears.
"Maybe later," I mumble. "I just want a bath and some sleep right now."
"Well, one of those can be achieved."
The voice of Legolas causes me to look up, and I give him a smile. He holds a bundle wrapped in cloth out.
"A private area has been prepared for you to bath," he says, "These are spare clothes for you."
"Thanks," I accept his offer of a hand to help me up, bid Romulus goodbye, and take the bundle. After getting directions to this separate area, I make my way there.
It's a small, clear spring with a waterfall at the back. The area is completely surrounded by thick trees and boulders, and the only entrance is a small opening through a couple of willow trees. Just to be safe, I rig up a small curtain out of the cloth around the bundle, hooking it on the branches and covering the opening.
Now completely cut off from the rest of the forest, I strip off my weapons and filthy, torn clothes, wincing when the fabric peels away from my cut. The water ripples as I step into it, and is surprisingly warm. It's pleasant, and for a moment I just stand neck deep, enjoying the feeling of a proper bath for a change.
In the bundle is a small bar of some kind of soap. To say I spend a long time scrubbing at the grime would be an understatement – by the time I even begin on my hair, my skin is pink and raw, but clean.
My hair presents a challenge. What was once red, shoulder-length, and sleek at the beginning of the journey is now a murky brown from dirt and grease, and has grown several more inches. I run my fingers through it and shudder in disgust. The mere thought of me, filthy and disgusting, standing next to Galadriel... I dread to think of it.
The bar of soap is practically non-existent when I'm happy my hair is clean, and my skin has reached the stage where it is shrivelled and wrinkly. Satisfied that I'm presentable, I clamber out the spring, shuddering in the night air, and dry myself off with a provided towel. The clothes given to me to wear fit perfectly – a deep green long-sleeved tunic and a pair of thick leggings that are a shade of mahogany. A fresh pair of socks and boots have also been provided, so I pull those on too.
Finally, a roll of bandages has been included, so I clean the edge of my sword and slice a length off. By now thanks to the soap and air exposure, my cut stings. It takes a bit of willpower to wrap the bandage as tight as I can, but I manage it.
I wrap my old, torn clothes in the cloth, grab my weapons, and make my way back to the Fellowship. The Hobbits are already asleep, having been worn out by the fast-paced journey from Moria to Lothlorien. Aragorn, sitting with a pipe, nods to me in greeting.
"Took you a while, lass," Gimli chuckles, "We thought you'd gotten lost."
I grin. "Nah, just enjoying being clean." I pause, surveying the area. "Where's Romulus?"
"Hunting."
Back by the tree, I roll out my sleeping back and lean against the trunk of the tree, legs tucked into the material. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to be prepared, I tear a small piece of fabric off of my old tunic from a fairly clean area and begin cleaning my weapons.
My throwing knives and dagger haven't seen much use so far, so I simply wipe them down and replace them on my belt. My sword is still almost completely encrusted with Orc blood, and I end up pouring water over the blade to try and loosen the grime. Eventually, I manage to get it gleaming, and I tuck it back in its sheath carefully. My bow is still okay, though the string looks a little frayed, but its nothing I need to worry about just yet.
Did ya miss me?
Romulus' wet nose shoved against my ear makes me jump, and I lean away from him, laughing.
"Good hunt?"
Could have been worse. A few rabbits hopping around. I'll be okay for a little while.
"Good. Don't over-exert yourself. You'll pull your stitches out."
If Romulus was capable of giving me a condescending look, he would. He just noses me in the ear again and drags his blanket out my rucksack. I arrange it into a nest the way he likes it and wriggle down in my sleeping bag beside him, covering him with the spare blanket.
His breathing evens until his warm flank is only softly rising underneath the blanket. I match my own breaths to his, and eventually fall into a dreamless sleep, curled up on the forest floor.
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As I said, a little rubbish, but the next one will be much better! This was kinda just a filler chapter.
Let me know what you think in a review!
Much love,
-CC-