The small group rides to the Forsaken Road to gather more information. Will they find their comrades alive?

I reference a song in this chapter called "Theme for Mithlond", or "The Grey Havens". It is a song composed by Chance Thomas from the LOTRO soundtrack, and I suggest you give it a listen, as it is one of my favorites! It can also be found on Spotify or Youtube.

Chapter 74

We rode as fast as we could, but I needed to be careful. Elrohir was doing little to keep himself in the saddle, and I could sense the waves of grief and despair rolling off of him. I tried my best to ignore my own pain, but it was difficult. I pictured Candaith's handsome face in my mind, remembering my last glimpse of it before he left a few days ago. He clearly had no fear that they would be attacked, and had been more concerned about my own worries. I could almost feel his lips on mine from that last kiss, and recalled him telling me he loved me in his deep, warm voice. I felt tears gathering in my eyes, and stubbornly blinked them away, but I was unable to stop myself from trembling. Elrohir's grief was affecting me, as much as I tried to prevent it.

Saeradan was sending worried looks my way, but there was nothing I could do to reassure him or anyone else that I was fine, because I certainly was not. I kept trying and trying to get through to Candaith, but nothing worked, and it made me fear even more that there was no Candaith alive to get through to. I couldn't help but shudder in despair at the thought of never seeing him again, and I whispered an apology as it disturbed Elrohir. I had been murmuring words of comfort to him even though I did not believe what I was saying, but I needed to do whatever I could to soothe his pain.

Even at the cost of my own spirit.

By the time we came near to the Forsaken Road's entrance, it was very dark. The moon was only a sliver, and my mortal companions could barely make out the ominous stone door. Lothrandir again helped Elrohir down, and I slowly slid off. My legs almost buckled as I realized how weak I felt, but I held up a hand as Saeradan went to help me. I would stand on my own two feet as long as I was able. Which might not be for much longer, if the fatigue I felt was any indication.

I carefully wrapped Elrohir's arm around my shoulder and we slowly staggered our way right up to the door. The others had their weapons drawn, and were ready for any attack. "Elrohir," I said quietly but with some urgency, "Place your hand upon the door and see if you can sense any sort of magic sealing it closed."

At first, I thought he did not hear me, for he made no motion to do as I asked. When I looked closer, I was startled by the sheer dread on his face. "Elrohir, what is it?" I asked.

"I…" he began, but his voice faltered. He swallowed and took another deep, shaking breath and continued, "I am afraid."

"Afraid of what we will find?" I asked quietly.

He nodded, "Yes, but I also sense a fell air about this place." He shuddered, and I began to feel a creeping cold sensation come upon us.

I turned to Halbarad and motioned him closer. "When you stand here, what do you feel?"

He furrowed his brow, and after a few moments he shrugged. "I feel nothing but the warm summer air, in the physical sense. I also feel worry and some apprehension for what is to come." I sighed, a little disappointed. Was the chill Elrohir and I felt actually coming from within the Forsaken Road…or was it instead the biting cold of grief that could lead to fading? My mother had mentioned such a feeling to me, all those years ago. I had never expected to experience such a thing myself.

Despite this, I turned to Elrohir again, "We must press on, muindor." I sounded firm, but inside I was scared. I found I could not bring myself to move closer to the door. That is, until I felt the calming presence of Saeradan at my side as he placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. "You can do this, mellon nin," he said quietly. I knew he must be hurting as well; he was close to Candaith and surely was also grieving.

With this, I nodded and took Elrohir's hand in mine, and placed it on the door. The stone was ice cold, and I resisted the urge to pull my hand back. Elrohir began shaking, and I looked at him with some alarm? "Elrohir? What do you sense?" I was ashamed at the weakness in my tone.

"It…it is Elladan's magic," he whispered, and I felt a flash of justification. Yet, I knew not to get my hopes up. It did not mean anyone was alive.

"Can you dispel it's effects?" I asked tremulously, worried about what he would say.

Instead of replying, his eyes hardened, and he straightened up with some previously locked away strength. He took some deep, cleansing breaths, and shut his eyes tightly. He was muttering something in Quenya, and after some time, I could see a sheen of sweat on his face as he focused. Clearly, this was taking almost all of his energy to do. I desperately wished I had some magical skills to help, so all I could do was say encouraging things to him. As his knees almost buckled under the strain of it, I wrapped my arms around his waist and helped him stay standing.

Finally, after what seemed like an Age or two, a flash of white light surrounded the outside of the door and Elrohir sank to the ground, utterly exhausted. I was barely able to slow his fall, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck, breathing shallowly and shivering. "Miruvor, someone!" I said frantically, and Lothrandir shoved a flask into my hand. "Drink this, mellon nin," I whispered, and with some encouragement, Elrohir drank a few swallows. His breathing evened out and the shivering lessened, but he was still very weak.

I moved us away from the entrance and settled us both against a large boulder. Elrohir sagged against my shoulder, but was mostly able to sit up on his own. I looked at Halbarad and asked, "How did you get the door to open last time you were here?"

"All I did was touch it with my hand," he replied. He looked uncharacteristically apprehensive, and I knew he must be a little afraid of what would happen once it opened, if it even worked. Would the Oath-breakers come pouring out? There were a fair number of us, but it would be a fierce battle, and although I could fight, I was not at my best. I would also need to protect Elrohir, for he was in no fit state to engage the enemy.

"Everyone ready yourselves, in case we must fight," I said sternly, and I managed to pull out one of my knives and stationed myself in front of Elrohir. "Halbarad, if you would."

Steeling himself, the ranger placed his hand upon the door, and the stone slowly slid away. Halbarad and Radanir looked at each other in confusion, and I knew I was missing something. Before I could ask, Radanir answered my intended question, "There is no fog emanating from within, as there was before." Halbarad nodded in agreement, and I took it as a strange but welcome thing.

Lothrandir passed out torches, and lit them one by one. I turned to Elrohir and said, "I will stay with you-"

"No," he said, his voice gravely but insistent. "I will go with you."

"Mellon nin, I would not have you enter until I know it is safe," I replied, but what I really meant was 'until I find out if Elladan is dead'.

"Go before me if you must," he replied stubbornly, "But I will not be left behind."

I looked to Lothrandir, and he understood my unspoken inquiry. "Elrohir, I will help you," Lothrandir offered. "Gwin can go ahead and help Halbarad scout."

"Very well," Elrohir said, sounding even weaker than before. He put almost all his weight on Lothrandir as they walked, but the ranger seemed unbothered by it.

As Lothrandir suggested, I entered carefully behind Halbarad. As my eyes adjusted, I saw torches of blue flame on the walls of the cavern, and they cast strange shadows on the ground. The air was bitingly cold, and I found myself unable to stop shivering. Saeradan placed his cloak around my shoulders with a smile, and I appreciated the extra warmth.

Halbarad purposefully made his way forward to a certain spot, and his brow furrowed. "The last time I saw Elladan, he was standing here by the entrance. Yet I see no sign of him."

"Perhaps he moved further inside?" I asked, "While he fought?"

"Perhaps," Halbarad replied slowly, and one by one, we crept forward with our weapons at the ready and our torches shining brightly. I knew from experience that the undead hated fire and light, and it would be a good means of defense should we encounter any of the Oath-breakers.

"Where did you last see Candaith?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

Halbarad pointed across a cavern. "We were all on the other side, with the exception of Radanir and Elladan. The road goes around the edge of the crevice, and it took us roughly 10 or 15 minutes to get to where we met up with the Brenin. It was there I last saw Candaith and the other Dunedain in our group." I felt a wave of despair settle upon me. If he was that far away from the door, the chance he could have escaped was slim if he had not been close behind Halbarad. After hearing how grave his wounds were, I found it doubtful he could have staggered unaided much of anywhere. The thought made my chest burn, and I rubbed it but found no relief.

We carefully kept moving, and I tried to imagine the place swarming with ghosts. It seemed very empty.

"It is curious…" Radanir muttered.

"What is curious?" I asked, my brow furrowed.

"When we were here last, I could tell we were being watched. Yet, I do not sense their presence. Halbarad, what do you think?" Radanir asked.

"I agree. The dead were following as we moved about, and we knew almost from the beginning that we were not alone," Halbarad said, sounding puzzled.

"Perhaps they fled?" Radanir asked optimistically. Could it be true? Could Elladan have somehow banished them from this place? While he was not Isildur's Heir, he came from the same line, however set apart. Could his bloodline be enough to have some influence? Or…or did they leave once their job was done, after the others were all dead? But where would they go, and why?

I stumbled as my boot caught on something, and I knew at once that it was a body. I froze, too afraid to look down and see who it was. Halbarad did it for me, and sighed. "It is Calithil, one of the rangers from Harndirion," he said grimly. I had never met the man, but he was one of their kinsmen, and I said a quick prayer of lamentation under my breath. Halbarad crouched down and examined him. "Gwin, will you look?"

I took a deep breath and gathered my courage before looking down. Calithil's face was frozen in a look of terror, and it chilled me to the bone. There was a long, deep laceration across his torso, and I knew it had to have been what killed him. His body was cold in death, but the injury was like ice and I pulled my hand away quickly; it was shaking. Halbarad took the time to close Calithil's eyes, and we decided we would bring him back to the entrance on our return.

How many more would join him?

As we crept along, we came across three more bodies near each other, all of whom were also rangers from Harndirion. Each one had various sword wounds, and I had to look away from the body of Linnor, for his head was nearly cloven from his body, and I felt the need to retch. The Oath-breakers had been cruel in their killing, and I feared I would find Candaith and Elladan's broken bodies up ahead.

We were almost to where Halbarad had encountered the Brenin, and there had still been no sign of any of the Oath-breakers. I glanced back at Elrohir, and noticed with some alarm that he was barely conscious. I looked to Lothrandir fearfully, and he said, "Do not worry Gwin, I have him."

Saeradan, who was the best tracker in our group, crouched down and examined the dusty stone floor where Candaith and Halbarad had fought the Oath-breakers. "There was a fight here, of course," he murmured. There were many footsteps, but because of this, the trail was difficult to trace. I had noticed there were several off-shoots from the main 'road', and Candaith and Elladan could be anywhere. I tried to ignore the large bloodstain before my feet, and knew it must have come from Candaith. I looked around to see if there was some indication of his movements after his injury, but there was no blood beyond the initial pool of it.

My eyes widened as I saw something sparkle on the ground; I crouched down and picked up the fake Ring of Barahir that Candaith must have been wearing. "He must have dropped it," I murmured.

"Or perhaps he left it behind on purpose." Halbarad countered.

"For what purpose?" I asked. "It tells us he was here, but this we already know."

Halbarad shrugged, "I cannot say. I suggest we split up into pairs and investigate these various corridors. Perhaps Candaith and Elladan are hiding." Or dead. I could not prevent the dark, pessimistic thoughts from invading my mind, and it made this even more difficult than it already was.

We split up and I went along with Lothrandir and Elrohir; the Ellon would not be parted from me. I knew it was because I brought him comfort, and we were family in all but blood. We searched for hours, but when we met back at the entrance, there was no other sign of them.

"Could they have escaped and left?" I wondered.

"But the seal was still present," Radanir said.

"Elladan could have reinforced it after they left," I replied thoughtfully. "Perhaps they did not have the ability to bring the bodies of the others with them, and wanted to keep them safe from any who might wish to defile them. I wonder where they would go to recover?" More to the point, why would Elladan and Candaith refuse to let Elrohir and I know they were alive? I tested the 'wall' again and came up with nothing.

Deep down, a part of me feared the ghosts had somehow destroyed their bodies instead of leaving them like the others. I had seen the skeletons in the barrow downs reduce the dead to dust; I recalled an instance where I came upon a traveler too late to save him, and in only a few moments, there was nothing left of him to recover. Who knew what these ghosts were capable of? They of course had a hatred of Elves, and likely were furious at Candaith for trying to trick them. The thought of such a thing almost made me collapse in grief. When I considered we might have been stepping in their remains on the dusty ground, I felt like screaming.

Saeradan seemed to sense my distress, "Gwin, we have no evidence to suggest they are no longer alive. They could have escaped."

"Why would they not return to camp?" I asked, annoyed at the desperation in my tone.

"I…I do not know," Saeradan answered uncertainly. "Perhaps they are too unwell to travel such a distance? They could be nearby."

It was still dark outside, and we all knew searching for them without better light would not be useful. Normally it would not be difficult for me to see during the night, but my vision seemed fuzzy. Halbarad directed us to a somewhat safer area to rest until sunrise, when we could head out and look for more clues.

Elrohir was in a bad way, despite the possibility of his brother being alive. His bond with Elladan was cut off, and it was hurting him terribly. It was as if his spirit was leaking from his body, and I had no idea what to do about it. He was lying down, and I wrapped a blanket around his shivering body. His skin was very pale, and almost translucent. I pulled his head into my lap and ran my fingers through his dark hair, like my mother used to do when I was upset. Despite not having any sort of healing capabilities, I began singing songs I remembered him and Elladan singing to me when I was in need of help. My voice was shaking, but it seemed to calm him.

As I was singing, the tune of "Theme for Mithlond" came to my lips. It was a song which held bittersweet memories for me, but one I always found myself playing on my hand harp, or humming as I sat on the docks in Celondim.

A memory surfaced, from hundreds of years ago, and I let myself fall into it. Any escape from my pain, however brief, was something I desperately needed.

Third Age, Year 2650, Celondim

The view across the river was as beautiful as always. The city of Duillond was lit up with various torches and candles, and stars glittered on the gentle waters below me. The air was warm, and a light breeze tousled my hair, which was hanging loose down my back. I was sitting on a bench on one of the higher tiers of the city of Celondim, my hand harp in my hands as I strummed a familiar tune.

I had only lived here for a few decades, but had found healing in its peaceful atmosphere. It was a small Elven settlement right on the river. While there was always a bustle of daily activity, it never felt too crowded or loud. The quiet, calm ambiance of the place made my grieving heart settle. My mother and sister had passed through here on their way to the Havens, but I had not traveled with them. Instead, I had done my farewells at the edge of Eryn Galen, otherwise known as Greenwood, once I knew they were safely surrounded by a large contingent of guards. I could not bear to travel all the way to Mithlond and wave goodbye as they sailed away. I worried I would have been unable to part with them, and would have sailed when I knew I wasn't ready to leave Middle Earth.

One of the first pieces I heard played by a bard here in Celondim was called "Theme for Mithlond", or "The Grey Havens". I found myself entranced, and was swept away to the far shores, across the sea, as I closed my eyes. It was like I could reach out and touch the essence of Ulmo, as I could 'hear' the waves break upon the white, sandy beaches in the notes. I knew I had to learn it, and it only took a few run-throughs with the bard before I could play it perfectly.

It was in this spot that I would always find myself strumming it, and sometimes singing the words, but I kept my voice silent tonight. It was in sharp contrast to the revelry going on throughout the rest of the city. Currently a festival was going on, related to spring. I couldn't find it within myself to participate this year, as I wasn't feeling particularly sociable for some reason. I just wanted to be alone with my harp and my thoughts.

Unfortunately, it was not to be.

I noticed someone settle next to me, with two goblets of wine in his hands. Barachen smiled at me, his cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol, or perhaps just the dancing. "Here you are, mellon nin," he said brightly, handing me a cup, which I took reluctantly after setting aside my harp. "I was looking all over for you, but realized I might find you up here."

"Lucky for you, here I am," I replied quietly, smiling a little. "Are you having fun?"

Barachen nodded, "I even managed a dance with Lady Vaelwyn."

I looked at him, a shocked expression on my face. "She let you dance with her? After your drunken shenanigans only last year?"

He laughed, "If I remember correctly, you were also a part of the 'shenanigans'."

"Do not drag me into this," I growled, but gave him a little shove to let him know I was joking. "You were the one making a fool of yourself jumping on the dock posts. She went off with the other carpenter!"

Barachen's eyes were twinkling, "Well, it turns out she still finds me charming and handsome," he said smugly, flipping his reddish-brown hair over one shoulder.

I gave him a look, "I am not sure I would use the word 'charming' to describe you, mellon nin."

He grinned cheekily, "But you would use 'handsome' then?" I rolled my eyes and knocked my shoulder against his, and he laughed musically. There was a moment of silence in the conversation, and my thoughts began to drift to a more melancholy place. I took a sip of my wine in thought.

"Gwin?" Barachen asked, turning to face me more fully. "What is on your mind?"

I sighed, "Even after the peace I have found, I cannot shake the memory of the attack on Edhelion. I see the building falling onto Talagan over and over…I was too late to save him."

"Not even Lord Elrond was able to reach him in time," Barachen countered. "You fought admirably, so I hear. I am certain your efforts saved lives that day."

"But not enough," I whispered.

"Hey, let us not dwell on such thoughts," Barachen insisted, taking my free hand in his. "I know how easy it is to get lost in the troubles of the past. It is time to look forward, and also focus on the blessings we have now." He eyed the instrument next to me, and shoving his goblet into my hand, he picked it up and started strumming aimlessly. I laughed, as he had no musical talent whatsoever. "Gwin, how rude of you to insult my great skill!" he said, looking affronted, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

"Great skill? Here, allow me," I replied, taking it from his hands and playing something livelier. He stood up and started skipping around in something resembling a dance…if you looked closely enough. It had me grinning, and after a time, he pulled me to my feet and twirled me around. "Barachen, there is no music, as you so rudely stopped me from playing."

"Does there need to be music for me to dance with you?" he quipped back, and I almost fell over as he spun me much too fast. "I realize your skill in this could use some work, and I am more than happy to help you practice."

"Practice?" I said with some confusion. "Practice for what?"

"Arwen's begetting day is coming up, as you know. Do you not wish to travel to Imladris and join in the festivities? I am sure she would love to see you," Barachen answered. "There will be much dancing in the Hall of Fire, and you must make a good impression for Lord Elrond."

I grinned and raised an eyebrow, "Since when do I need to do that? He is well aware of my clumsiness. I am certain he would rather expect me to trip over my own feet than awe him as I float across the floor."

"Well, let us catch him by surprise then!" Barachen replied, laughter in his eyes. With that, he twirled me around again, and I let my cares go as I danced the night away with my oldest friend.

As the memory ended, I blinked in surprise as I remembered where I was. Elrohir's head was still in my lap, and he was resting with a more peaceful expression on his face. It gladdened my heart to see that I could aid him in a small way, however temporary. The amusement of the memory seeped away from me slowly, and I frowned as my current situation squeezed my heart in worry once more.

I had to cling to whatever hope I could grasp that Candaith and Elladan were alive, and therefore needed to be strong for both Elrohir and myself. Despite the shadows that fluttered around the edges of my vision, which were trying to drag me down like Elrohir, I pushed them away. I had no time to succumb to despair or grief.

I let the others make a plan for scouting tomorrow, and let myself try and rest a little. I knew I needed more strength if I was to be of any use.

Elrohir was starting to shift around restlessly again, muttering something that was too quiet for me to hear. "Hush now, muindor." I whispered. "You are safe with me." I resumed my singing, and he drifted off into an exhausted sleep. His eyes were shut tightly, and underneath his eyelids, I could see them moving rapidly about. I feared he was having dark dreams. I kept my hand on his chest, and found comfort in the rise and fall of it as he breathed. As long as he kept breathing, there was hope in his recovery.

Right?

That's a great question Gwin; we will just have to wait and see. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and leave a review if you have a moment!