Chapter 11: Cruel Anxiety

The birds had stopped singing. The woods seemed unnaturally quiet, as if the gloom of Mordor now covered the whole of Middle Earth, masking any cheer or warmth in the sun's rays.

Suddenly, fleetingly, the quiet was pierced by a heart-rending cry of pain and grief. It was the cry of one to whom the silence had seemed all the colder.

Mithra was shaking uncontrollably, sat up in bed, her hair and her nightclothes damp with sweat against her skin. She lay down again slowly, having been cruelly thrust from slumber by a particularly terrifying nightmare. It had been many nights since she'd slept soundly. She hadn't, in fact, since Theodred had left her.

He was ever the topic of her thoughts.

Clutching her blankets closely about her, Mithra used the corners to dab away the tears on her cheeks, and tried in vain to block out the images that had just flashed through her mind.

The dream had been horribly real. The pain that she had seen in his face had broken her heart, though not nearly so painfully as watching the light in his eyes extinguished.

"My lady, you must help me!"

Galadriel cast her unusually solemn eyes over Mithra's tearful face. The Elf-maiden had practically fallen into her superior's arms in her grief.

"Mithra, how did you come to be like this?"

No answer was needed. Galadriel knew that Mithra had barely stopped crying since the departure of the Rohirric prince she held in such high regard. Taking her by the arm, Galadriel sat her down, and she spoke softly.

"You know what I would have you tell me."

"I do."

"Then please do not hesitate! Tell me of Theodred! I shall be driven mad if I do not soon hear of his fate!"

Galadriel looked away from Mithra's eyes as she spoke. "I know that victory was obtained in Minas Tirith for the Gondorians and their allies."

This news barely touched Mithra. "So?" she asked desperately. "What of Theodred?"

Galadriel didn't move for several seconds before turning solemnly back to Mithra.

"I do not know."

Her voice was barely audible, and now a tear trickled down her cheek also. Mithra did not notice.

"How?" she exclaimed. "How can that be?"

"I am afraid I can give you no explanation."

As Galadriel looked into Mithra's eyes, the younger Elf knew she was not being deceived. She became conscious with a vague twinge of guilt of the lady's own trials and sorrows, but could not apologise for any selfishness she might have shown.

Wordlessly, Mithra left.

A week passed in Lorien, with time dragging on just as it had been for weeks. The sky grew darker, the great storm cloud of Mordor stretching even so far as the fair Elven woods.

Mithra's hopes and fears had not changed, only were mingled now with an ever growing sense of anxiety, not just for Theodred, but for all the races of Middle Earth, all those who were fighting in the south for a peaceful land that was free of Sauron's evil.

For the second time, she was driven eventually to Galadriel to seek news of her loved one.

The Lady of the Woods was surrounded by her handmaidens when Mithra found her, and watched her distraught young friend throw herself down on to her knees before her. Eleniel was present also, and an exclamation of surprise escaped her lips. She swiftly knelt on the floor beside Mithra and folded her arms around her, letting the tearful head rest her shoulder.

"Why do you still weep, Mithra?" she asked in concern.

Galadriel opened her mouth to answer, but before anything could be said, a mighty rumble echoed through the woods and the ground shook. Mithra looked up in surprise and reached for something to steady herself before she was shaken off the edge of the flet. The mallorn leaves rustled and the branches swayed as the ground shook many feet below them.

"What's happening?" one of the maidens asked, and all looked to Galadriel in confusion and fear as the trees around them became still once more. Then, for the first time in months, the fair features that had been sorrowful for so long were brightened by a magnificent smile.

"Do you not feel it?" she asked, her joyful voice delightful to be heard.

A strong breeze suddenly blew through the woods, carrying with it a strong aroma of ash and smoke that passed quickly by. Now they stopped for thought, the females around her knew why she was so cheerful.

Eleniel was the first to say anything.

"Victory."

Mithra felt a great weight lift from her heart, and she couldn't help smiling too. "Frodo!" she exclaimed. "He has succeeded!"

All of a sudden, the sun seemed to shine out brighter than she remembered it ever had, the air seemed warmer, and the woods were alive with sweet birdsong. She was surrounded by bright triumphant faces, none more so than Galadriel herself.

However, Mithra's joy passed quickly.

"But do you know yet of Theodred?" she asked urgently, the tears of seconds ago still glistening on her cheeks.

Both Eleniel and the lady faced her suddenly with unreadable looks.

"Then have you not yet heard?"

A/N: Thanks for sticking with me if you're still reading this. I know it took me a ridiculously long time to get this chapter written, sorry for that, but it was very dull to write! However, I felt it was necessary. Let me know what you think and leave me a review! Thanks again,

the green lama