One

A deep mist hung over the Lothlorian forest like a blanket of doom. It had been raining for weeks. Rot had settled into the leaves and fragments of the summer, filling the air with the smell of sweet decay. It was an usually cold autumn, and the guard felt it deep in their bones. The youngest among them remarked on the strangness of chill while the veterans eased the ache of old wounds that suffered most from the touch of icy damp. Winter would be hard this year.

Haldir stood watch that evening with his men. It was his common practice to watch the nights whenever possible. Some said it was devotion to the Lady of Light, others whispered it was his hatred of the orcs and shadowy men that crept about the border of the scared wood. None truly knew the reason. He was a captain; he need not have watched like a common soldier of the wood. Yet there he stood, bow held against his chest, cloak pulled close against the sting of the rain.

He felt rather then knew that things were changing in the air. He was not an elf of fine words and thoughts. He was made for action, devotion and loyalty. Everything within him had been keyed to the timber of the wind, the smell of the foliage and the sway of ancient trees. There was a difference in the forest. He narrowed his eyes, the pupils dilated in the dark of the night. Something stirred a scant mile away. The border.

"Captian," his lieutenant spoke above a whisper, Haldir held a hand to his lips. He motioned for his lieutenant to follow and the two became moving silently toward the sounds of bracken under foot.

To a traveler with ill intent, entering the wood was quite impossible. They either met death at the end of Lothlorian arrow, or fell upon some misadventure at the hands of the Lady. To someone who sought out the elves for miracles, or medicine there was evasion, being led in circles until they found themselves at the beginning place of their trek and aid at times when the need was great. It was the task of the guard to discover which of these was now entering the forest.

Movement was swiftest through the tree tops. The distance was covered within a span of heartbeats. The lithe elves slipped from branch to branch as their keen hearing picked up more of the sounds of the intruder. It was odd.

"You'd think some cattle had gotten loose of the fields," Gault whispered.

"Probably just that, "Haldir nodded, but something was wrong. He frowned as the scent of blood filled his nostrils.

In an instant the two drew their bows and continued toward the heavy crashing food falls. Far below them, the shadows grew long and dark from the trees, shielding whatever approached in a velvety darkness. It was not orc blood they smelt, but human. The smell of sweat and fever followed. Death seemed to approach with every heavy foot fall.

A few seconds more and a heavy ox, laden with some burden, broke through the underbrush with a snort. The tension eased a fraction between Haldir's shoulders at the sight of the harmless animal. Whatever the beast carried was bringing the smell of illness and death with it. He motioned for Gault to flank him as he began to drop through the forest canopy to discover what poor creature slumped across the beast's back.

A phlegmy cough suddenly wreaked the body on the ox' back. Haldir winced at the sound. Such sounds of illness meant great infection and often death among the children of men. No doubt it was someone come to seek a remedy to ward off death. He slipped his bow over his shoulders and dropped his hand to his knife in case this was some ruse. But no sounds of others in the woods followed the damp silence of the hacking cough.

To his right, Haldir saw Gault drop into an easy position on the opposite side of the lumbering animal. He slid closer. The animal had stopped from exhaustion or interest in some plant on the forest floor. What looked like a bundle of wet rags lay clinging to the beast with white, weak limbs.

"This is the Wood of the Lady of Light," He spoke out, "Why come you here?"

The bundle stirred, shook and begin to cough once more. It was a girl, young and very gaunt. He lowered his hand away from his weapon and came closer, "Child, why are you come to this wood?"

She struggled, sucked in a brief breathe and gasped, "Help, I am come for help."

Haldir frowned, "This is not a place for beggars, child, get you back to your people."

She moaned and slumped down onto the beast again, "Dead, all dead. Murdered."

Gault moved into position behind the limp girl, and he nooded to Haldir as the senior elf moved in closer, "How murdered?"

"Orcs, hundreds of them," she struggled to raise herself upright. The little light through the trees showed a face white with sickness and sorrow. Dark shadows of grey smudged under her eyes and her hair was soaked against her skull, "I am alone escaped."

"When?" he demanded, "Have you been followed?"

She laughed harshly then coughed until she nearly fell of the oxen. He reached out and caught her. She was pitifully thin and her skin was fire to the touch. He easily sat her down on the ground and Gault appeared by his elbow.

"She has not been pursued," he spoke in their native tongue.

"Come," Haldir spoke to the girl, "You are very ill."

"Aye," she gasped, "I was ill at my escape and have become more so as I traveled away from the slaughter. I tried to find my uncle's farm, but I—I have lost the way." Her eyes filled with tears, "Now I shall not ever find him."

"The Lady would not like her to die on the door of the Wood," Haldir said to Gault. He scooped the frail thing into his arms and spoke to her, "Come, we can give some comfort to you as the night closes."

She did not answer. She had lost consciousness and her ragged breathing was uneven in some dead sleep. The two elves carried the failing girl to the nearest outpost and handed her gently through to the guard posted there. It was a simple post, but the barest necessaries, but it was warm and out of the rain.

"She won't last the night," one of the guards observed.

"No," Haldir agreed, "Humans are frail and die easily. It is the way of their kind."

He laid her near the small brazier and pulled off the drenched cloak, and sodden clothes as Gault rubbed her shaking limbs dry and rosy with cloth. She feebly tried to push their hands away and save her modesty, but she was too weak.

"Na, na," Haldir said, "You are safe here, but you must be kept warm."

She did not seem to hear, but clutched her ragged bodice about her breasts even as she shook with fever. A chain was hung around her neck and a ring rested between her bosoms. Something about it, drew Haldir's eyes. It was of a serpent devouring another.

He caught Gault's arm in an iron grip, "Go, bring a healer."

Gault turned confused green eyes to his captain, "She is near death, sir."

Haldir removed the chain from the girl's neck and held it out to his lieutenant, "This means she must survive the night."

Gault's eyes widened, "Aye sir." He stood and departed as swiftly as the wind drove the rain.

Haldir covered the shaking girl's figure in a warm, dry cloak and cradled her against his own body. "Stay alive little sister," he whispered in the common tongue, "Your journey does not end tonight."