Chapter Forty-Nine: Lothlorien

"Stay close my young friends," cautioned the Dwarf, Gimli. A few days had passed, or at least, an imprecisely measured amount of time had elapsed since leaving Moria, but how much time was not known for certain. Since the death of Gandalf, everything had become muddled in their brains. They had pressed on, made rational choices on the road out of necessity, but they were still dealing with a heartache that made the past few days blur together. By now, they had come into a bright forest, where the trees were not craggy, where late afternoon light penetrated and lit the way over mossy rocks, where the leaves on some of the trees were white and silver. There was a familiar feel to the forest as well; if Lucy had been there she would have said it felt Narnian, only stronger, clearer…untouched by the outside world. Despite all its beauty, however, Gimli drew the Pevensies and the Hobbits aside, warning them of a sorceress who haunted the wood. "An Elf-witch," he continued, "of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell and are never seen again. Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily."

Frodo started whimpering in Aragorn's arms. "Did you hear that?" he asked of the Ranger in a faint voice. Susan, walking close by, figured Frodo was hearing things in his delirious state.

Gimli was whispering proudly as he led the march through the wood. "I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

"And the nose of a glutton," added Edmund, who was second in line. His additional height allowed him to see beyond a rock formation that was hindering the Dwarf's view of the upcoming terrain. "Master Dwarf, you've just led us to a mighty spread!" And Edmund took the lead, directing the others to the table that resided, laden with food fit for a king, in the middle of the woods. Three men with long hair sat at the end. "Hello there! Excuse me," Edmund said, trying to get their attention.

Merry and Pippin eagerly licked their lips as they approached the table, ready to pounce on the bountiful array of foods. Gimli, meanwhile, was inspecting the candelabra and dishes. "Elvish make," he grumbled.

At this point, Edmund and Caspian had ventured down to the end of the table. They could now see that the men were dangled in briars. As Edmund leaned close, he detected the faint rise and fall of the old man's beard over his chest.

"They're breathing," he gasped. "The poor fellows."

"You mean, poor lords," Caspian corrected, pulling back the brambles to show one of the men's hands. On the index finger was a large ring with a Telmarine crest.

"Who are they?" Edmund asked, noting similar rings on the others.

Caspian identified them as Lords Revilian, Argoz, and Mavramorn. "They were advisors to my father but were exiled across Middle-Earth by Miraz."

"Why are they like this? Cursed somehow?"

Gimli neared Edmund and had the answer to the Narnian's question. "The Elf-witch."

Caspian looked back down the table. "It's the food. Don't eat anything!"

Merry and Pippin, surrounded by a pile of orange peels, looked up with pale faces.

"Look," suddenly said Sam, pointing above his head. Through the treetops, a new light could be seen. It was blue and coming toward them. The orb descended through the trees to the forest floor, brightened, and then before their eyes was a woman, glowing blue and white like the light of a clear night.

"The Elf-witch," Gimli hissed. "Nobody look at her! Don't fall under her spell!"

Edmund took a step forward as if in a trance. "You are most beautiful."

Gimli turned away toward the others with a look of despair.

"If it is a distraction for you, she can change form," said a deep voice on Edmund's right. When the young Narnian King turned to see the new speaker, he was met by a drawn bow with an arrow pointed at his face. A stocky Elf with long blonde hair was behind it.

It was in that moment that the entire fellowship realized they were surrounded by Elves with weapons drawn.

"Haldir," the glowing being said to Edmund as a way of introducing the Elf, "my jealous lover." She smirked. "I'm afraid he has been following you since you entered the Golden Wood."

"The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," Haldir stated. Gimli made a slight huffing noise.

Then Aragorn came forward with Frodo in his arms. He gave a nod of his head, then began speaking with the Elf in a foreign tongue. At one point in the conversation, he gestured to the wounded Hobbit.

"He should be taken to the infirmary at once," suddenly spoke up the blue lady in a voice all could understand. "Put away your arrows, Haldir; I shall not have violence at Aslan's Table."

"Aslan's Table?" spoke up Edmund.

The lady nodded. "All are welcome at Aslan's Table, but violence is not permitted. Please, partake in the food that has been offered." With that, she raised her hands and the candles were lit. "Travelers who have come from far to Aslan's Table, why do you not eat or drink?"

"Forgive me, my Lady," Caspian began, "we feared the food because we thought it had cast these lords into an enchanted sleep."

"They have never tasted it," she replied.

"All the more for us, aye, Merry?" whispered Pippin, nudging his companion in the ribs, relieved that the food they had eaten was not cursed.

In the following moments, some of the Elves, with archery equipment stowed carefully away, escorted the Ranger and his charge, and Sam because he refused to be parted from his dear friend, to the infirmary. The rest of the Elves stationed themselves around the Table while the travelers ate. The blue-glowing creature informed them that once they had eaten, they would meet with the Lady Galadriel.

"And she's the sorceress?" mumbled Gimli. "And what are you? Not an Elf-witch, I suppose."

Legolas, sitting opposite the Dwarf, delivered a sharp jab to Gimli's kneecap with his foot under the Table. The blue lady glared at the Elf, as if she had somehow been able to see what had taken place.

"No, Master Dwarf, I am neither Elf nor Witch. I am the Morning Star, Lilliandil, daughter of Ramandu."

"Is it not true that Earendil carried the Morning Star across the sea?"

"You know the stories of the Stars well…"

"Caspian," the Prince informed, beaming at Lilliandil's praise. "My professor taught me of the Stars."

"A very learned Man."

"Part Dwarf, actually."

"A Dwarf understanding the heavens?" Haldir said, his mouth dropping; Gimli smiled smugly to himself.

Susan cast a quick glance at Caspian, who was seated beside her. She then turned toward the Star. "Would you please explain what has happened to those lords?"

"Several years ago," Lilliandil began, "they came here and debated whether to stay here and end their days in peace or to journey back to Telmar, that maybe Miraz was dead. They did not know what to do, and they quarreled about it until one grabbed up the Knife of Stone." Here she pointed to the short blade resting between the three sleepers. "But it is a thing not right for him to touch. And as his fingers closed upon the hilt, deep sleep fell upon the three. And till the enchantment is undone they will never wake."

"What is this Knife of Stone?" asked Boromir.

"Do none of you know of it?" Lilliandil looked directly at the travelers from Narnia.

Edmund stared at the blade uncomfortably, muttering, "Knife of Stone…Aslan's Table…Stone Table…"

"I think you are beginning to figure it out, my Just King," Lilliandil remarked. "It is the knife that Jadis used to kill Aslan on the Stone Table. It was brought here to be kept in honor while the world lasts."

"And is that why it is called Aslan's Table?" Susan wanted to know.

The Star nodded. "It was set here by his bidding, to be protected by the Elves."

Peter cleared his throat. "The strength of the Elves in power and wisdom would certainly keep such a place safe."

"Yes," but Lilliandil sighed, "still we are being threatened."

Haldir noted that the Star wished for him to continue, and after a moment of internal debate, he explained;

"We have received word from His Lordship, King Thranduil, that Orcs from Dol Guldur are on their way for Lothlorien. Assaulting the Elves and keeping us busy in our own lands prevents us from meeting Sauron on his warfront, in Mordor. But Aslan's Table is a prize that Sauron will try to take at any cost."

"Why's that?" spoke up Merry.

Lilliandil clasped her hands together in front of her on the Table. "Seven swords forged by the High Elves. If they are placed on this Table, Evil shall be weakened across Arda."

"Weakened? Not destroyed?" Susan asked for clarification.

"Yes, it might reverse curses – set those Telmarine lords free. One legend says that the Nazgul will find peace, be able to move on and no longer be bound to the Dark Lord through the Rings. But it will not wipe out Evil completely. Nothing can."

"So, no one has placed the blades on this Table?" asked Caspian.

"Their combined power will only work once; there are some who think that only in Arda's direst moment should the blades be brought together. But they are scattered and so far gone. None know where all the blue-glowing blades are," Lilliandil informed.

"Blue-glowing blades?" Peter withdrew Rhindon. "Is this one?"

The Star shrugged. "I am not familiar with weaponry."

Haldir straightened where he stood behind Lilliandil. "Only the Seven Swords glow blue."

Caspian sat up excitedly. "We have…" He however paused when he saw Susan and Legolas shoot him cautionary looks.

Haldir rested his hands on the back of the Star's chair. "If you are quite finished with the refreshment, then let us adjourn. The Lady is waiting for us."

{Section Break}

"Eleven of you, yet thirteen of you set out." The voice was almost too deep and austere to be coming from the mouth of the bright Elf. There was a glow about him; a sign of his time in Valinor. The She-Elf at his side glowed too and was much awed by the travelers who had gathered before them, high in the trees of the Golden Wood. Evening had settled in, and the treehouse-structures where the Elves resided glowed like the stars in the heavens above. Everything was so beautiful, it almost hurt to take it all in. But what really gripped the newcomers were the words of the Elf Lord Celeborn. He had no fair words of greeting; somehow, he knew all about them and of the journey they were on. Yet, he did not know about the fate of the missing member of their company. "I know of the Halfling in our care, soon to recover, but that still leaves one missing. Where is Gandalf? I do greatly wish to have a word with him," he said.

The Elf Lady needed only to look at the somber face of the Ranger to know the answer. "He has fallen into Shadow." Her powerful gaze swept over the entire fellowship. "Your quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all."

Edmund thought he heard Boromir release something between a whimper and a groan, the noise a Man makes when frightened, not hurt. Edmund knew the distinction from partaking in armies, but he thought it odd of the seemingly fearless Gondorian. He did not look back all the same, not wanting Boromir to feel he had been caught in revealing his emotions.

"Yet, there is hope while the Company is true," the Lady Galadriel continued to speak. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep."

{Section Break}

Visiting the Lady of the Golden Wood could not be postponed. Sam, although not wanting to be parted from Frodo's side, went with Aragorn to rejoin the others in meeting the rulers of Lothlorien. As soon as words had been exchanged, and Sam realized he could say little of the affairs of the mission, he asked timidly for permission to return to Frodo, and he was granted his request. Alongside his best friend once more, Sam was overjoyed to see that Frodo was just waking from a much-needed nap. The dark-haired Hobbit was clad in a new white shirt that was comfortable, if a little oversized. A trusted physician, whom Galadriel had sent before any of the Company had met her, had been instructed to tend of Frodo and clean the wound. He had provided Frodo with the new nightshirt but had been told to leave the ring on the chain around his neck. Frodo's old clothing was left on a chair nearby to be washed later.

Upon waking, Frodo, a little mystified by his surroundings, questioned Sam as to where was he and where were his old clothes.

"Lothlorien, Mr. Frodo…and your clothes are over there." At Frodo's desperate face, Sam hastily got up and retrieved the requested item. From out of the pocket dropped a silver ring into Frodo's hand. "What's that ring, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked in confusion.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" was Frodo's reply. "You can have the clothes to be cleaned now."

Sam replaced the clothing on the chair and returned to his perch near Frodo's bed. "And you still have the other Ring, Mr. Frodo," Sam remarked in a quiet voice.

"Yes, she knows about it, too; she told me."

"Who, Mr. Frodo?"

The wounded Hobbit leaned back against the pillows. "It must have been the enchantress Gimli was talking about when we entered the wood. As Strider was carrying me, I heard this voice in my head. It was a voice I'll never forget, Sam, not as long as I live. And she said I brought great evil with me." Frodo toyed with the silver ring in his hand. "It…well, it made me want to give up, turn around and go home to Lucy. But then, I felt like I had to keep going, though surely I am to die if I do."

Sam blushed bright red at that and Frodo asked his companion why he looked so uncomfortable. "You look like you've got a guilty conscience," Frodo remarked. "I hope it is nothing worse than a wicked plot to steal one of my blankets."

"I never thought no such thing," answered Sam, in no mood for jest. "It's just that when we were all meeting with the Lady Galadriel, she suddenly ups and looks at me, and Mr. Frodo it was just awful. I felt as if I hadn't got nothing on, and I didn't like it. She seemed to be looking inside me and asking me what I would do if she gave me the chance of flying back home to the Shire to a nice little hole with – with a bit of garden of my own. And, between me and you, I think the others got jittery right then, too. Like she was asking every one of us what we would do if we were offered between a shadow full of fear and something that we want more than anything else. To get what you want, you have to stray from the road and leave the war against Sauron to others. And all right after she said we mustn't stray, that all would fail if we left it. What do you make of it, Mr. Frodo?"

"I don't know, Sam." Frodo cupped the silver ring gently in his hands. "One minute all I wanted to do was run back to the Shire and marry Lucy."

Sam's eyes widened slightly, understanding the meaning of this other ring. He said nothing but looked at Frodo pityingly. Frodo was aware of all his friend's thoughts, and he sighed before continuing.

"Then I knew that if I ran back there would be no one to give Lucy and me a happy future. I have to press on, so that someday someone will have a happy future, even if it's neither me nor Lucy."

"You're right, Mr. Frodo," Sam said with a brave smile. "And I'd see you to the finish of this Quest before I turned back to that little garden of mine…and maybe Rosie Cotton. You're my best friend, and I'm not giving up on you."

"Thank you, Sam."

{Section Break}

"An Elven-maid there was of old,
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey."

"That's a lovely song."

Legolas looked up from where he was sitting under one of the majestic and giant tree trunks of the Golden Wood. Susan was coming from behind the trunk, descending the roots that stuck out of the earth, something like a staircase for her bare white feet to tread on. Her hair was let down, still damp from a washing, and she wore a fresh white gown borrowed from the Elves. Legolas quickly rose in the presence of the Gentle Queen.

"Thank you, my Lady. It is a song about the maiden Nimrodel, who bore the same name as the stream that runs near here, when once she lived there so long ago. It is a fair song in our woodland tongue; but I sing it in the Westron Speech, as some in Rivendell now sing it."

Susan knelt at the base of the tree. "Don't stop."

The Elf sat back down, and in a voice hardly to be heard amid the rustle of the leaves above them, he went on.

"Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade:
For lost of yore was Nimrodel
And in the mountains strayed.

"The elven-ship in haven grey
Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
Beside the roaring sea.

"A wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands
Across the streaming tide.

"Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.

"From helm to sea they saw him leap,
As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
As mew upon the wing.

"But from the West has come no word,
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth evermore."

Legolas glanced over at the Queen as he faltered on the final note. "That is but a part, for I have forgotten much. It is long and sad and tells how Nimrodel was lost in the passes of the White Mountains and came not to the ship where Amroth, her lover, waited. In the spring when the wind is in the new leaves that echo of her voice may still be heard by the falls that bear her name."

"It's a beautiful story," Susan commented. "I wish I had learned more of Elvish lore. I fear now that such lore is slipping away."

"Yes," Legolas agreed. "The time of the Elves is coming to an end, and even those of us who remain do not recall what once was so vital to every Elf: our history. We do not speak or sing of it enough, like once we did. Even when I was but a child, we remembered better then."

"You almost talk like an old man," Susan commented, then blushed, wishing she had not said that.

Legolas gazed over at her with eyes that Susan thought held some kind of woe and worry which she had not seen in him before. "Am I not, Queen Susan?"

"It's just Susan," the woman pointed out uncomfortably. "But if you are immortal how do you grow old? Do…" She paused, then continued, not looking at him. "Do you ever die of old age?"

"When an Elf's time is up, and he or she has not been killed, then they must take a ship to Valinor." He continued to watch her as she bit her lips nervously. "You might know it as Aslan's Country. The Morning Star rides over it, showing voyagers their route across the sea."

"Lilliandil?" Susan was happy to create a subject change. She had not meant to learn how Elves died, but a part of her had wanted to know. As an immortal herself, she questioned her own existence, and what choices she had in finding someone to share her life with. She was going about it in her logical way, evaluating her choices to conclude on the wisest choice to then pursue. The feelings of the heart did not factor in yet, and Susan felt that her heart was confused at the moment, feeling both nothing and something for the two males in question. "Why is she here anyway?"

"To visit Haldir, I would imagine," Legolas replied with disinterest.

"Do Stars normally visit their earthly lovers?" Susan asked.

"I do not know the ways of the Stars. But if you loved a Star, wouldn't you wish he would come and fill your life when daylight shines?"

Susan squirmed, thinking that Legolas had come fairly close to understanding her own predicament with earthly companions. "I suppose," she answered. "I thought Elves knew a great deal about the Stars."

"Tauriel would have been the Elf to ask." Legolas grew strangely silent, and Susan wondered for a moment if he had fallen asleep or into a trance with his eyes open. At length he spoke, "They say an Elf can only love once."

Susan blinked. "You loved Tauriel? But she married a Dwarf!" Of all the most ridiculous things Susan had ever heard. Tauriel really had completely disregarded eternal happiness for a love that would only last for a span of a few short moments in the lifespan of an Elf. Following the heart was dangerous and unreasonable, and Susan was glad that she had never gotten her heart messed up in her contemplations.

All at once, Susan realized that she had blurted her thoughts aloud. It was not right for her to remind Legolas of his true love's betrayal to his heart in such fashion. She quickly apologized, her checks turning pink in the blueness of the night.

"There is nothing to seek forgiveness for," Legolas whispered. "Tauriel found her happiness, and I shall find mine." His eyes strayed back to her, locking with hers. Susan felt her heart flutter up and down in her chest like a songbird sprung free from her cage. There was a feeling, a strong feeling, that Susan's logic could not override, an urge that wanted to propel her just a bit closer to him.

"Oh, excuse me!"

It was a Telmarine accent.

Susan straightened, as did Legolas to behold Caspian standing on the lowest root of the tree trunk. He, too, was in clean attire, lent to him by the Elves, and he cast wary eyes over the Queen and Elven Prince.

"Were you just passing along?" Susan asked, rising to her feet.

Caspian gave Susan a look that suggested he saw through the statement. "Yes, I was searching for your brothers. I think it might be well if they showed up."

Susan took a calming breath that hardly rippled her outward demure appearance, but Caspian had known the Narnian Queen long enough to recognize when she was enraged in an internal battle with a fiery anger.

Susan glared up at Caspian. One moment, she thought she had finally come to some kind of decision, albeit an illogical one, and now her thoughts were muddied again by his presence. Maybe Caspian had done her a favor by making her brain kick back into action again, but every fiber in her being had only one desire, and that was to get back to that feeling of knowing. However, even if she moved Caspian along, he would only alert her protective brothers of her visit with the woodland Prince. Caspian would be singing a different tune if it were him instead of Legolas sitting under the tree with her, Susan thought with a grimace.

Legolas got to his feet then and strode toward the pair. "What is on your mind, Prince Caspian?"

Caspian glanced around. "I might as well tell you and get your opinions." Susan and Legolas exchanged a confused look as the Telmarine wet his lips. "It's about the Seven Swords."

Legolas nodded knowingly. "I imagined that was on your mind. Is it only for the three sleepers?"

"It's about far more than those Lords, though I would see them awakened if I could." Caspian rubbed his hands together. "A weakened Sauron would be easier to get past to Mount Doom."

"Agreed," said Legolas, "but how do you purpose finding the remaining swords? How do we know that the power from those blades will last long enough to see us behind Mordor's borders?"

"I'm afraid I must side with Legolas on this one," Susan put in. Her mind returned to the meeting at Dancing Lawn with the Narnians when she had sided with Caspian against Peter. "No one seems to know where the last three blades are."

"Two," corrected Legolas. "My father bears such a blade, and he will not be parted with it."

Susan went on, "And the world is so huge, there's no telling where the last two blades are hiding. It would not surprise me if Sauron was holding them captive, to keep Aslan's Table from being used against him."

"I could have used allies," Caspian grumbled. "Peter won't part with Rhindon, no doubt. Orcist and Glamdring we might have spared. And there's no knowing if Frodo would give up Sting."

"If you knew no one would be willing to give up their weapons, why even consider it?" Susan asked.

Caspian kicked at the sod with the toe of his boot. "I wanted to save my father. He's one of the Nazgul…"

As the Telmarine's voice trailed off, Susan found herself feeling sorry for Caspian. He looked so disappointed, like everything was hopeless. Then she was bristling with rage.

"You would have all of us give up our weapons, the only things that can alert us to approaching Orcs or Goblins, just so you can redeem your father. One man when the entire world is hanging in the balance. Save your father, save those dried up lords, but forget about the rest of us."

"Do you not see how many purposes these swords have?" Caspian fumed in astonishment. "Think Susan! Yes, I will have rescued people who were important to me and my family. But if we can give ourselves a better chance at sneaking into Mordor, we save many more families than my own." Caspian was beginning to look desperate because Susan was unwavering and Legolas's face did not portray any emotion. "Think of your families, if no one else's."

"Caspian, can you not hear yourself?" Susan frowned. "You're only trying to make it sound like we're doing this for the good of the world, but your only motivations behind it are for yourself! You are asking us to stray from the path!"

"I'm not so certain it is, Susan," said the Elf's voice at the Queen's shoulder, startling her. "I agree with Caspian, but I steady my hand before putting arrow to bowstring. There is no guarantee that the remaining two swords will be found, nor that I can obtain my father's sword. It is too far a journey back when we have come so far. And there is another thing to think on. What if Lothlorien is attacked? If we leave what swords we have here, we risk losing all to the Orcs should they – Ilúvatar forbid! – take the Golden Wood." Legolas paused, glancing between both the Telmarine and the Narnian. "I see both sense and folly in this plan. Should knowledge reach us of the final blades, then we might know better how to act. In the meantime, take your rest, and we shall discuss this matter among the others in the light of day."

Caspian nodded. "Such wise counsel."

Susan clasped her hands in front of her. "Yes, quite logical," she admitted slowly. "Now, I think I shall act upon that 'take your rest' part. Good night to both of you." She bobbed a quick curtsy to both Princes, then flitted up the root-steps, her white dress shimmering like a star in the nighttime world of Lothlorien.

A.N.: The conversation between Sam and Frodo is based on a conversation among the Fellowship after meeting with Galadriel in the book, and the song that Legolas sings is also from the book as they are entering the Golden Wood.