1. willow
There once was a time when peace filled the lands of Middle Earth.
When the leaves of Lothlorien glowed golden beneath the canopy of greenery stretching across the sky.
When the mountains and forests of Elryn Lagrand grew tall and wide and flourished beneath the warmth of the sun.
When the White City stood erect and proud on the horizon, a testament to the strength of man.
There was laughter and sunshine and long days under warm suns. There were parties and strong Kings and Queens. The food rich, the fields ripe for harvest, and the rivers swift and strong. Mountains echoed with the hearty calls of dwarves and the clang of their hammers at work.
There once was peace.
And then there was war.
Shadow and fire invaded the land. It began in the South, where the reach of Sauron was most near. Throughout the ages, it spread. Until, one day the winds of the North carried the snarls of orcs, the howls of wargs, and the ice-shattering march of trolls.
The North fell. And the great city of Antínu, where elves and men of the Far North lived in harmony, burned.
She remembered the screams that pierced the night and tore her from her slumber. The flames that crackled and tore through the city. The heat that filled her eyes with tears and scorched her throat. But worst of all- she remembered the smell.
The smell of burning flesh.
It clung to her, chasing her even as she ran. It wound itself into the curled tresses of her hair and sunk itself deep into the material of her cloak. So even when she burrowed in it for the warmth and comfort of sleep, the smell plagued her dreams. For months, she awoke to the sound of shrill screams echoing in her head. And even when snow whirled around her, all she felt was the heat from that night singeing her cheeks.
It has been said that elven memories are closer to reality than dreams. Unfortunately for Arradel, this was true. For as long as she lived, she never forgot that wretched night. The night her world came burning down around her and she fled into the wilderness with naught but the clothes on her back.
The Northern Kingdom fell, and for over a thousand years, the North remained a wasteland, shrouded in mystery and nearly forgotten by those of the South.
But the land was not lifeless.
Small groups of survivors grew in size as they traveled across the Wasteland and came into contact with other survivors. Tribes began to form, and soon the North became the land of nomads.
For over a thousand years, the elleth traversed the North along with other nomads. She witnessed love and joy, loss and mourning, and she found peace in the rhythmic lifestyle of the nomads.
Yet heartbreak makes one do strange things, and, so, she travelled South where she joined a group of Rangers.
There, she befriended a man by the name of Estel. After saving each other's life too many times to count, the two developed a deep respect for one another. And at last, Estel revealed himself to be Aragorn son of Arathorn.
So the pair became loyal friends– spending many years together as Rangers-in-arms.
But Aragorn's heart called him further South. And, like dew on a sunny day, he vanished.
Arradel did not see him again for many years.
In the meantime, she sensed that a darkness had pervaded her homeland, once more. She rallied a loyal band of Rangers, and they returned to the North. With the help of the Northern Tribes, Arradel and her Rangers fought a growing presence of vile creatures– ones she had not seen in so great a number since the fall of Antínu.
This is where our story begins.
It had been over a thousand years since the last great city of the North fell to ruin, but that did not stop the nightmares from visiting Arradel in the dark of night. While elves rarely slept– only needing light periods of rest– Arradel's cunning demanded more energy and required more sleep than the average elf. So, she endured the nightmares, and, over the years, she learned to manage them.
Turning the hilt of her sword, she began to sharpen the other side of its blade. She did not notice the figure that approached, for her thoughts were still consumed with distant memories.
"Arradel?"
She acknowledged the Ranger with a tilt of her head, never slowing in her task.
"Arradel, a stranger has asked for you."
"Turn him away. We will not have the resources to fight off another party of orcs for at least two more weeks."
"Arradel," the man hesitated, apprehension rolling off of him in waves.
Casting an irritable look towards her companion, she said, "What is it?"
"He said to tell you that he goes by the name Mithrandir."
Arradel's hand slipped, nicking her fingers on her blade in the process. She was on her feet in the blink of an eye. "Take me to him."
*
Her meeting with Mithrandir had been brief. They spoke in hushed tones behind closed doors. It had been years since she'd last seen the Wizard, but his appearance remained the same: scraggly beard, bushy eyebrows, and a tall Wizard's hat to match his grey robes.
The Wizard requested her help in catching a creature by the name of Gollum. Though the name meant little to her, she could see the fear in Gandalf's keen eyes, which frightened her greatly.
She was packed and racing away on a horse, within the hour.
As she left her family of Rangers behind, her shoulders began to sag beneath the weight of loneliness, once more. She loathed isolation.
She craved companionship, and the spark of joy that came with it. Over the course of her long life, she'd experienced long periods of loneliness. It left an all too familiar bitter taste in her mouth and an ache in her heart.
The wind lashed at the exposed skin of her face as she urged the steed onward. Over the next few weeks of travel, the icy wastelands began to give way to softer grounds and rolling, green hills. As dawn broke each day, she and her steed, whom she had come to call Sûl, rode as hard as they could. At sunset, they rested.
The journey required her cunning energy, as Gandalf had warned her.
"How will I know where to begin?" Arradel had asked the Wizard, running a nervous hand over her dark locs. From what she'd gathered, Gollum was not a creature to be easily found. She did not have the first clue where to begin her search.
"Estel is on the hunt, too," Gandalf said, earning a surprised look from the elleth, "Once you find him, then you may be able to locate Gollum, together."
She nodded, relief washing away her anxieties as she began to understand. It would be easier to locate a close friend than an unfamiliar creature, through her Mind's Eye.
For the first few weeks of her journey, she followed her instincts– heading Southeast towards a destination known only to her Mind.
Unfortunately, relying on her Mind alone rapidly drained her energy. She was forced to rest nearly every other day. It had begun to take a toll on her, mentally and physically. The closer she drew to her destination, the more hazy her Sight became.
One particular night, Arradel found herself dozing off beneath the shelter of a great oak tree. She kept one weary eye on Sûl, who ambled around as he grazed. It had been several days since her last sleep, and her body ached in protest.
"Follow your Eye," Gandalf instructed her. "Should you lose Sight of your destination, listen to your heart."
Mulling over the Wizard's words, Arradel's eyes began to droop– her head nodding towards her chest. Before long, the elleth drifted off into a restless sleep.
Darkness swirled before her Mind's Eye. Shadowy figures lurking just out of sight. No matter how she squinted and strained– she could not see them.
"Estel?" She called into the void. Her own voice echoed back in an eerie reply, "Estel?"
Then, in a whisper that seemed to come from within, she heard an unfamiliar voice repeat, "Estel?"
And like that, the image of a towering willow tree stretched before her– beneath its whispering branches, a hooded figure stood with his back to Arradel.
Arradel woke with a gasp. Her eyes flickered around her– startled by the intensity of her vision. With a deep, shuddering breath, she drew herself to her senses. Leaping to her feet, she whistled for Sûr, and allowed the burning feeling in her heart to lead them towards their destination.