Chapter 6 - New arrivals
Fear pierced me like a knife between the fifth and sixth ribs.
Thoughts and movements blurred from the moment I saw the hooded figure with a blade in his hand, to when everything stopped with a suddenness that knocked the air from my lungs.
x x x
The uneasy and curious atmosphere in the courtyards below the city in the tree tops was palpable. The entourage accompanying Prince Amroth home from his trip was larger than expected.
King Amdír stood proud and reverent as he watched with no small amount of amusement and impatience as his son dismounted his steed with athletic flair, setting a group of nearby ellyth tittering in excitement. The prince acknowledged them with an unusually tame greeting as he approached his father.
"Ada."
"~Well met my son.~" Amdír returned his sons gesture with a slight bow of his head.
Amroth was nearly the spitting image of his father, save for the golden hue to his hair. The princes ashen eyes glanced behind at the dozen extra ellyn, and raised an inquisitive brow at his father.
"~What brings them here?~" Amroth asked, bowing to Celebrían who greeted him politely as she sped past to welcome her mothers kin.
"~I shall explain all once we are in my council chambers.~" Amdír appeased his increasingly suspicious son, guiding Amroth by the shoulder to one side of the courtyard. "~We have been dealing with a series of unusual occurrences,~" Amdír cast an irritable look towards the group of Ñoldor. "~I ask that you keep an open mind.~"
"~Are we in danger? Has the enemy returned?~"
Amdír paused a moment and looked at his son earnestly. "~Some would have you believe so. It is too early to say for sure.~"
"~Lord Amdír.~" A powerful yet commanding voice called as a horse moved towards the King and his son.
Amdír tried not to grimace as he turned to greet his most esteemed guest, opening his mouth to speak—when a desperate scream pierced the air.
Waves of shock swept through the gathered elves, all looking around for the source. After a long moment Lord Celeborn broke out into a sprint, reaching the bottom of the stairs as another cry permeated the tense atmosphere.
Amdír's blood ran cold.
x
The rapid chase through Caras Galadhon's treetops was brief and frenetic. Amdír's heart and thoughts raced, all while he ignored the blue clad Ñoldor soldiers flanking both him and the ellon who had accompanied his son home. Amdír tried to pretend he ground his teeth together out of fear for the ladies, and not from irritation at the figure who strode beside him with purpose punctuating every step.
Celeborn had found the guest room in shambles, the warden posted outside it knocked out cold. The speedy glance Amdír had caught as he passed indicated a fierce struggle. The tangy smell of blood confirmed it.
'Who planned this attack? How did I miss such a threat against them from within my own realm?!' Amdír's thoughts only made him feel further bent out of shape. His grip on his sword tightened, and he found himself cursing his long robes. They made him look out of control as he sprinted along the pathways.
Near thirty armed elves followed the desperate cries that emanated from deep within the maze of bridges and flets. Amdír was impressed by the girls speed if they were still being chased.
Ahead, three figures darted across the bridge that crossed the swift flowing river. All they had to do was get across. They would be safe in the care of the wardens who were heading their way.
"Shit! Back the way, back the way!" Gunda shrieked, turning sharply on her heel, startled by the grey clad wardens who had come to their aid.
"Wait, Haldir—Ahhh!"
Amdír faltered for a fraction of a second.
"~Valar protect them.~" The ellon half Amdír's age and powerful beyond imagining whispered in prayer beside him.
A stalemate had formed on the bridge.
"~You move and I shoot.~" An ellon wearing a wardens disguise threatened.
"~Stand down.~" Was Haldir's stern reply. "~We will shoot if we must Lainadan.~"
Between the assassin and the Wardens, near the mid-way point of the bridge, hunched three shaken, bloodied girls.
Glenys, blood seeping from a wound to her shoulder, knelt beside a panting Kimbela—her hand nailed to a post by an arrow. Standing between them and the assailant, placating hands raised to shoulder height and blood pouring down the side of her face from a head wound, was the seer.
Gunda visibly trembled, tears lined her eyes and her heart beat furiously in her chest so loud Amdír could hear it. He couldn't reach them soon enough.
"~Stand down immediately.~"
Amdír's authoritative bellow brought the whole scene to a pause long enough for him to reach the end of the bridge. Ñoldor soldiers and Galadhrim guards fanned out either side of him.
"~Lower your weapon and face me Warden.~"
The elf made no move to release Gunda from his aim, but looked over his shoulder in a sign, perhaps intended to show respect to his King, but did just the opposite.
Green eyes filled with anger and hate glinted at the King before the elf turned his attention to Gunda once again.
"~They are a threat to us your Majesty. They deserve to die for their crimes.~" Came a cold voice that matched the look in the young ellon's eyes. Void of hope. "~Especially this one.~"
Gunda flinched, but held her ground as the arrow was brandished towards her chest. A silent plea escaped her lips. 'Please…'
"~Soldier, let the women go and we shall discuss this in a manner befitting the Eldar.~" An even voice spoke from Amdír's right, and for a moment Amdír was almost thankful for the High-King's presence. Without a formal introduction, however, the assailant didn't know who had spoken, though the polished accent was as far from any Lorinand intonation as Dwarven gold was from elven steel.
"~My father died protecting this realm! And for what? You bring evil with you!~" The assailant's voice cracked. Arms shaking, as though suddenly unsure if he could go through with what he had started.
"~I'm sorry for your loss.~" Gunda's timid voice spoke up.
"~HOLD YOUR TONGUE~" The assailant yelled, earning a startled yelp of fright from the quivering woman.
Every arrow was pulled back to the ear, readying for the signal. The tension in the atmosphere rocketed to phenomenal heights, and Amdír began to unsheathe his sword as a cold sweat gripped him.
"~Don't shoot!~" Gunda cried out, looking to the side and catching Amdír's gaze pleadingly. When no-one made a move, she continued. "~Your name is Lainadan right? I am sorry you lost your father, but this is…not the way to solve grief.~"
A stunned silence fell for a few moments. Interrupted by Kimbela's stifled whimpers and sobs of pain.
Amdír's expression fell into one of surprise. Where he had seen Gunda as a means to an end, a weapon to be used to their advantage, he now saw her for the fragile, frightened woman that lay beneath the courageous exterior she wore like a shield. A person who trembled to her very core as she spoke softly to her would be assassin.
"~You have no reason to trust us. I understand that. But I swear we mean you no harm.~"
A scream permeated the air as Glenys finally pulled the arrow from Kimbela's hand.
"Why are you negotiating with that maniac! He's trying to kill us!" Glenys howled, scrambling across the bridge with Kimbela in her arms towards the safety of Haldir and Celeborn.
Lainadan aimed for the retreating girls but Gunda stepped in his way, shielding them with her body. Gunda's gaze turned molten, but settled in the blink of an eye.
For a long moment the only sound was the torrential hiss of the fast flowing water below the bridge, cutting through the banks of thick Mallyrn roots and steep smoothed rocks.
"~You don't want to do this. Do you.~"
"~What would you know of what I want to do.~" Lainadan took an intimidating step forward.
Gunda recoiled, eyes slamming shut and her arms crossing to protect her chest and head. "~Because you would have done so by now if you did.~"
"You so much as harm a hair on her head and I'll rip your intestines out through your mouth!" Glenys yelled, torn between getting Kimbela to Haldir and sprinting to Gunda.
"Glenys!" Amdír warned, shaking his head. An order for her to stay put.
Movement beside the King of Lorinand nearly startled him. The younger king and a second ellon who bore an insignia denoting his rank as captain stepped forward silently. Slowly, step by step they breached the threshold of the bridge.
"~In the name of the High-King, stand down.~" The Captain ordered succinctly.
Something glinted in Gunda's eyes as she looked up cautiously. Once again her eyes found Amdír's. Begging for help.
Amdír held his breath. He did not know why.
"~No one here wishes to shed blood.~" The High-King took a deliberately loud step forward, no more than a few strides from Lainadan. "~Lower the arrow.~" The low, firm voice was not to be disobeyed, and yet Lainadan did.
"Please…don't—" Gunda's lips quivered, a haunted expression turned her features ashen. "Not again—I can't," She choked, tears dripping down her face. "Not again. Please don't."
The young ellon stood, shaking so hard the arrow bounced on his hand where he held the bow. A small sound escaped him.
To everyones surprise, Gunda stepped forward, rested a trembling hand on the arrow head and gently helped Lainadan lower it.
It were as though the whole forest breathed a sigh of relief. Amdír released his breath slowly, the momentary calm overrun by an unbearable feeling of wounded pride at having such an event unfold in front of his guests.
To be outright ignored by one of his own subjects was insulting beyond comprehension.
Arrows were lowered and guards prepared to move and take the young ellon away.
Kimbela and Glenys cried out, both ready to take Gunda to task for her reckless behaviour as they made to step back onto the bridge.
Gunda turned to face them, her tear-stained face crumpling with relief.
"~GET DOWN!~" The voice of the Ñoldor Captain shouted, sprinting footsteps followed.
A shriek pierced the air.
Kimbela covered her mouth to stop another scream from following.
Gunda stumbled over her own feet and keeled forwards over the edge, and into the rapid waters below.
x
I was roughly rolled and tumbled from one side to the other, then plummeting down. It felt like a magical carpet ride through a nightmare.
Where would the Gods carry me next? Was I to meet the All Father? Eru? It didn't matter. Kimbela and Glenys were safe and nobody had been fatally injured—I hoped.
My legs and arms flailed. I let my breath go in a scream as vengeful wildfire threatened to pull my arm off.
Water filled my mouth, cold slid over my flesh, and there was a persistent tugging on the thing that caused the burning in my shoulder and chest.
Was this truly a dream? How could I possibly know.
My legs moved of their own accord. Using what air I had left in my lungs for buoyancy, I kicked weakly until I broke the surface, coughing and trying to breath at the same time. The waters calmed and carried my body along.
My head hurt, my left side felt strange. And I smelled something damp and vaguely mushroomy.
Shocked, I forced my eyes open.
The surroundings were still forest, but nowhere I recognised immediately. I allowed myself to drift, half aiming myself for a shallow beach when I noticed it.
I clawed my way onto the silty bank, ignoring the white hot agony sparking through me, until the water had no more pull on my body and I lay on my good side like a stranded fish.
'Breathe through the pain, nice and slowly.' A voice echoed from a place of much needed comfort—of familiarity. Pappa…
I breathed. Concentrating on nothing but the damp earth against my cheek, the smell of wet sand and moss and the fact that with every breath I drew, I knew I was alive.
Images of the event replayed in my minds eye. The chase, the stand off on the bridge. The conflicted feelings crossing Lainadan's face in the moments when he had wanted to shoot me. For an instant, his mouth morphed into the sadistic grin of another person entirely. I squeezed my eyes shut and banished that mental image.
The High-King had been there too. I wasn't sure I'd seen him. But he was in Lorinand.
Too tired and in pain to care about that fact, I turned my attention to the more relevant problem of my shoulder.
Biting my teeth together I forced myself to kneel as upright as I could manage. Tears prickled my eyes and I stilled for another long while until the burning spasms had time to calm down.
'Focus Gunda.'
Breathing deeply through the discomfort, I felt across my chest with my right hand, quickly finding a smooth shaft protruding from just under my collarbone. When I pulled my fingers away, they were stained ruby red.
Gulping down a shaky breath I chanced a look, but the tip of the arrow was concealed in a blind spot.
I swallowed a choked scream. I couldn't see it, but I felt the triangular shaped head. I reached back where the rest of the arrow stuck out. Judging from the angle, it had been a shot from higher up. The flesh around the entry wound ached with the slightest bit of pressure. I tried to grip it to pull it out, but the awkward angle and sudden shot of agony made me scream, my stomach lurched and I wretched violently, jarring my shoulder.
I've been shot…HELP I'VE BEEN SHOT!
'Focus Gunda.'
It took some time for me to fully register my situation. It simply didn't seem real. I knew it could only have been an elf who shot me.
One of the races I had believed we could trust in to keep us safe…wanted us dead.
"No." I said firmly before that thought had time to develop. "Galadriel and Celeborn care. Celebrían cares. Haldir and his brothers care. Even Amdír cares because he needs us. And right now I need to get back because my friends need me."
Friends…yes…they are my…friends…
Fuelled by my newfound determination, I clumsily planted one foot on the squelchy ground, then the other. Swaying wildly, I stumbled up the bank and into the cover of the trees where I rested against one of the tree trunks, then pushed on.
I managed to walk half a kilometre, sodden clothes sticking to my body, making the chilly wind that little bit colder, before deciding the arrow needed to come out. If I ran into trouble, as seemed to be our luck here, then it was best to minimise hindrances. The wound would limited movement, but less limited than if I left the arrow in.
Successfully extracting the arrow proved harder in practice than in theory. The angle meant I couldn't pull it out the way it had entered, and the vicious head would cause more damage. Gritting my teeth, I prepared myself for the gruelling task of forcing the arrow further through my body.
Shaking violently, I swatted away a small swarm of flies that buzzed around me, attracted to the blood, a weak attempt of stalling the inevitable.
Finally, forcing hard breaths through gritted teeth and withthe end of the arrow against a tree, I pushed back, hoping I hadn't miscalculated the angle.
The shriek was unavoidable, followed by a string of expletives.
Caras Galadhon can't be that far away? Should I leave this to a healer?
It was perhaps the wiser plan, which I ignored as I gripped the shaft—now far enough out to get a good grip on it.
Sliding my shoulder along the trunk, I felt the back of the shaft rest against the tree. I tensed, taking deep and measured breaths before I twisted my body, snapping the shaft against the tree.
Agony and relief washed through me as I stared at the broken arrow. The wedge shaped head winked back at me menacingly through dribbles of red. Blood dripped down my arm, my chest, soaking big dark patches in what had been a nice comfy dress at the beginning of the day.
I grabbed a handful of sphagnum moss growing at the base of the tree and packed the wound, gritting my teeth so hard my jaw ached.
Light still filtered through the canopy, but it grew softer and the air was dry but cold, meaning it wouldn't rain. I reckoned I had an hour to reach the city before it got dark and even colder.
Batting away more flies, I hiked up the nearly dry end of my dress and started on my way again, holding on to the arrow for the small sense of self defence it offered.
Trees stretched all around as far as the eye could see, but I followed the direction of the river, when an unusual sound drifted through the forest.
"Da!"
The sound echoed through the woods, but I recognised it.
"Kimbela?!" I called back. "Glenys?"
"Nda!"
"Oh thank the Gods!" I praised, confident I was heading towards the sound when my back began to tingle again.
I stopped in my tracks.
This isn't good news…
I looked around, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, but that didn't mean the enemy wasn't there. And if I sensed them, so would Kimbela and Glenys.
I needed to get back to the city. Warn the elves and summon the Wardens. But if my friends were out looking for me…
I picked up my pace and soon I was running, shoulder barking in pain.
The tingling intensified. I ran faster, diverting from the river, from my only known path back to Caras Galadhon.
I followed the sensation in my back. It shifted from left to right. When it hovered over my spine I guessed I was on the right track, ultimately heading east. I couldn't justify why I followed the vicious tingling, but something inside me urged me toward it.
Why would we be here, gifted with magical weapons unless it was to aid the people of Middle-earth. Is this the reason for our 'second chance at life'?
"~Lady Gunda?!~"
The voice became clearer, and it was not one I vaguely recognised.
Mistrust sprung forth, stopping me in my tracks once again. I looked between the sound which came from the river and where I had been heading.
People were out looking for me? How many? Was Haldir out there with Kimbela?
Suddenly a horn blared and four ellyn on horseback clad in blue appeared from between the trees.
The tingling remained steady and my gut told me it was not a good sign. As though I knew the enemy were waiting for something. And I wouldn't stand around and do nothing.
I waved my arms above my head, crying for help. The horsemen came after me. I didn't like the idea of tricking them, but I justified it by convincing myself I had few options.
The Orcs do not belong here. I thought, re-securing my hair in a low ponytail as I turned and sprinted deeper into the forests, the elves shouting after me. I will eradicate them.
Adrenaline shot through my limbs, propelling me forward, my mind focused on that singular objective. I let go of the redundant arrow head, reaching behind me where I felt the axes begin to appear.
The ground sloped upwards before it plunged down to a gravely path a few meters below.
I leaped off the edge, a determined battle cry ripping from my throat.
A warning and a pronouncement.
I was there. I was ready.
Riding along the path was another company of similarly blue apparelled soldiers heading back towards the city. And they were definitely not ready for me. Startled, they looked up in shock, some drew their weapons as I flew over their heads.
I raised an axe high above my head, eyes fixed just beyond a tall elf on an elegantly clad black stallion.
The elf ducked and I just cleared his head as a surprised yet animalistic shout came from the tall brush on the other side of the path.
My legs felt as though the bones had shattered and rebuilt themselves after the impact as I pulled the axe from the Orc's head. It's remaining wicked yellow eye open and gazing at me in astonishment.
I righted myself, swearing at the fire engulfing my mangled shoulder. Another figure pounced on me from the side. We went rolling, the Orc grappling with my clothing as I landed on top. I held the Orc down by its shabby collar and hacked at its exposed neck. Blood sprayed everywhere, covering my upper body.
I spat out the few drops that had landed in my mouth. The indescribable taste so sickening I gagged.
If wretchedness had a taste, Orc blood wasn't far off.
Commands were given to form ranks and horns sounded, shrill and urgent, as more of Sauron's minions emerged from their hiding places.
Growling through gritted teeth, I sprang to my feet and swung my axes horizontally, catching the next foe's sword with such force the blade flew from its hand. Momentum kept me spinning, axes completing the circle when they imbedded in the Orcs back.
A momentary lull allowed me to catch my breath—and then the next foe was upon me.
Metal clashed. Swords sliced and gutted as the fray between Eldar and Orc reached its peak.
Despite feeling confident with wielding my weapons, I felt vulnerable without a shield. Blocking and parrying with axes alone was more luck than skill, and that hair-raising feeling—of being less than an inch from injury—fuelled a raging force inside me. It pushed me to become more aggressive in my attacks.
Despite the numbers felled, the Orcs kept coming. An unnatural heaviness in my gut made me aware that their numbers more than tripled the dozen or so elves.
I jumped to the side, crashing against the high earth bank as the four horsemen I had alerted came charging into the battle from around the bend. I watched as they trampled and slew Orcs with ease before nimbly dismounting to join the fight on the ground.
A sound came, too close behind me for comfort.
I turned, axe raised, the Orc stopped two feet before me, frozen.
A slick black stained blade pierced through the creatures chest. I watched, awed, as the corpse was discarded to the side. Unsettled by the fact I'd let my guard down, I looked up to thank my saviour.
A resounding boom reverberated through my body; uncomfortable, fearful.
A fierce, determination was written across his features. Blood spattered his cheek.
He paused, as I had. His expression melting into sudden recognition and I felt it then. My gut instinct placed him into context, sending the world reeling around me.
Those eyes are wild, I thought.
Dark hair tied back in a long plat. Circlet of gold. Light riding armour with a distinguishing crest embellished on the breast piece. Lance.
Something welled in my chest. I had never felt it before and my grip on my axes tightened in response.
Neither of us lost our sense of where we were, and at the sound of another horn—of more elves coming to our aid—we nodded and broke away.
My heart beat furiously. I pushed myself to the limits, muscles burning, sweat prickling my scalp—running down my back.
I gritted my teeth and pushed on harder.
I glanced to my side, catching a glimpse of the skill with which that wild-eyed elf fought. He had drawn forth a dirk and where the long blade of his lance pierced one foes chest, he sliced the throat of another who came at him from the other side.
My name, cried at the tops of several lungs, woke me up again. Hooves came drumming down the path, a Galadhrim host, and I only caught a brief glimpse of Glenys' short blonde hair before returning to the fight.
Felling an Orc with ease, my opponent after did not go down without a good fight. Before I had properly seen him I was hit from the side and slammed into the wall of earth and roots. I landed on my back, dropping my axes and gasping for breath.
The Orc grabbed the collar of my dress and slammed me into the earthen bank again. I grimaced as his clenched fist pushed into my throbbing shoulder. My vision went dark for a moment then focused again, and I saw the creature in more detail than I wanted to.
Wrinkled and pierced skin, a bald head with pixie like ears and crooked, brown teeth that leered at me from behind dry cracked lips. He looked like he was about to take a chomp out of my neck.
I didn't think. Just reached forward and grabbed his head between my hands. My facial muscles twitched into a villainous grin, and I snapped his neck. The Orc collapsed and I landed on my feet and retrieved my weapons.
I trembled. An unnerving rush of satisfaction washed over me for a heartbeat.
Fuck.
Whatever it was that took over when I fought, it was foreign, offensive, and I wanted rid of it. But like a raven freed of its cage who's instinct was to fly, I fought. I fought because my life depended on it.
I threw myself into the fray, blades slicing through air and flesh, I surprised myself when I beheaded one opponent with a single blow.
"Gunda!"
I spun around, searching for the owner of that voice.
"Glenys?"
I knew they were there, but the fact I couldn't find them sent me further into a frenzy.
If they got hurt I would rip every living thing apart in my vengeance.
Crossing my blades above my head, I caught the downward strike of a sword. I stepped within my opponents range and landed a kick to its gut. The Orc stumbled backwards onto the blade of a lithe Sindar elf who barely wore any armour at all.
I could barely believe what I saw. The royal idiot looked to have thrown on no more than a mail vest before leaving. I grabbed Amdír's arm, pulling him to my side and ripping a hole in an Orcs chest who had tried to sneak up on him. We backed up towards the earth bank, along with the wild-eyed elf from before and another—equally as tall and vaguely familiar.
"~Try to stay alive your Majesty.~" I sighed, adjusting my grip on the axes as we were surrounded by several Orcs.
Amdír chuckled. "~Your highness will do.~"
I cast a fleeting glance to my left. "~You are not Amdír?~" I asked. He certainly looked like King Amdír, though the voice did not quite match.
"~His son.~"
Ah. "~Nice to meet you.~" I nodded, casting another glance across to see how the other two elves faired. 'Wild-eyes' seemed no worse off than when I first saw him, and the figure beside him—a large silver crest on his blue surcoat—was equally fierce.
Before I could decide on what to do next, the elf on the far side shouted;
"~NOW!~"
We leaped forward, driving the thin line of Orcs back where more elven warriors helped finish them off.
I heaved a breath of relief, pushing hair from my face as the tingling and heaviness in my back dissipated into near nothingness.
A shriek made my ears prick, and my blood ran cold. To my utter horror, an Orc had captured Kimbela, crushing her small frame between its strong arms.
In that same instance, I noticed another enemy advance on 'Wild-eyes' from behind. I hurled my axe at the orc with a loud cry; "vänd om!", hitting my target just as 'Wild-eyes' turned.
I didn't see his reaction as I sprinted across the terrain and launched myself at Kimbela's attacker.
"Gunda!" Glenys called, panicked, as I crashed into the Orcs back, wrapping my arms around its neck in a choke hold. Squeezing with all my might.
The Orc let my friend go, but rather than submit, reached behind and grabbed me by the back of the neck and forcefully flung me to the ground.
Fuck I need to stop getting thrown on the ground!
My chest was on fire. My eyes watered, dipping in and out of darkness and double vision.
Yanked to my knees, a hard backhanded slap snapped my head to the side. Then a foot, hard and as stone, impacted my gut. Then again. Again. And Again.
My world went black.
Let this be a dream…let me wake up and be with Mamma and Pappa again.
I was vaguely aware of my surroundings. The oddly distant sound of metal rasping against metal. The squelch of upturned, bloodied forest floor under foot. The numbness slowly seeping across my flesh, through strained muscle, engulfing the burn within that had, not long ago, urged me to keep fighting.
I awaited the final blow.
But it never came. I remained sprawled on the ground. Fatigue, like a ton of bricks, weighed me down. The cool mossy scented earth beckoned an enticing drowsiness that accompanied the growing numbness. Only it wasn't numbness anymore. It was a persistent hot ache. Muscles complaining, overworked.
Hands grabbed my shoulder and bicep and pulled me quickly onto my back which gave an instant protest.
"Heri? Súya, heri!"
I moaned, and begrudgingly opened my eyes.
Beautiful…blue…eyes…
I snapped wide awake, bolt upright and scrambling backwards.
"Easy now, easy." Wild-eyes soothed, hands held up in sign of good-will.
"Fuck. It's you." I swore in my mother tongue, then clapped a hand over my mouth in shock.
Wild-eyes thankfully didn't ask for a translation and unclipped the deep purple cloak from his shoulders and whirled it around me. The feeling in my chest returned, warm like the cloak he had just given to me.
With a pang I realised I had to know his name. Had to know if my gut was correct. And I couldn't keep calling him 'Wild-eyes'. What if it slipped out accidentally?
"Um…hello…"
It was not what I had intended to say.
A tense silence filled the space between us.
"Hello." He answered, cautiously.
"~Who are you?~" I asked, amazed I could get any air past the thrilling beating in my chest. Still buzzing from the fight. Still shying away from the uneasy feeling he gave me.
Observing him properly for the first time, it was unhelpful to note that he was far more handsome than I had initially realised. Most notably his eyes, startling intense cerulean blue, no longer held the look of imminent danger. So 'Wild-eyes' wouldn't work as a permanent nickname.
Just try not to piss him off.
"I am not here to cause you harm." He said, switching back to common tongue.
"Well I know that!" I exclaimed, realising how it must have sounded when his features shifted warily. "I mean, you didn't kill me back there."
True. He hadn't. But the events of the day begged to differ. I found myself looking at him with new eyes.
A million thoughts thronged my brain. Most obtrusively was the question; friend or foe?
"GUNDA!"
I was tackled by one, then two frantic figures from either side.
Sounds got caught in my throat and I held them closer than I ever thought I would. Tears rolling down my scraped and dirty cheeks at the indescribable overflow of happiness and relief that rose within me.
I kissed each of their foreheads, unable to wipe the smile from my face.
"You're safe." I squeaked.
"You're alive!" Kimbela exclaimed. "I—I have so many things I want to say, scream, shout! I don't even know where to begin."
"How about 'you idiot'." Glenys interjected and Kimbela swiftly smacked her forearm. "Hey!" Glenys objected, and then continued, "But seriously Gee, thank God you're alive, we were so worried."
"Not just cos I'm useful?" I half joked.
"No." Both girls looked at me seriously. "Because you're our friend. We're in this together."
My bottom lip trembled as they pulled me into another hug, abruptly halted when I hissed at a fiery throb in my shoulder.
Glenys quickly shuffled to my injured side and undid the lace at my collar, peeling back the material to get a good look at the wound. Completely disregarding the fact that now several ellyn, including Wild-eyes, were watching me.
I kept my gaze firmly on Glenys' collarbone to avoid seeing Wild-eyes concerned gaze from where he now stood above us.
"Did you pull it out?" Glenys asked, wiping the area with a clean end of her riding tunic.
I nodded, wincing.
King Amdír, again, stepped through the ruined landscape, a relieved look on his usually stony face.
"~I am much comforted to see you alive Lady Gunda.~" He said, and he meant it. "~And I thank you for looking out for my son on the battlefield.~"
The Prince stood a little behind the King, peering around his father to see how I was—and upon seeing me partially exposed he quickly averted his gaze. His awkwardness amused me.
"How is your shoulder feeling Gunda?" Glenys asked cautiously.
"Stiff more than anything." I said, desperate to move my shoulder but not wanting to make it twinge.
"May I?"
The voice startled me, and I shifted my hesitant gaze to Wild-eyes.
I nodded nonetheless. He knelt beside me with sweeping grace and large, calloused hands gently held my shoulder still and felt around the entry and exit wounds.
"I can imagine how you extracted the arrow," He said, fingertips ghosting over the entry wound, "and in future I would advise you refrain from doing so, but this was a relatively clean procedure." He had a pure, rich voice. I hardly believed it was his, but it slotted in perfectly with everything else I saw. He then checked my forehead which I barely remembered getting hit with a chair leg. "But you have healed. Just as your companions."
I frowned at him incredulously. He held my gaze with no hint of offence and indicated to Kimbela.
Kimbela nodded sheepishly, unwrapping a suspiciously clean bandage from her hand and raised it. Revealing a bruised, but whole palm.
"We can't explain it." She shrugged, her eyes still struggling to form any sort of reason. "But it looks like weapons are not the only magical thing about us anymore."
I swallowed thickly, filing away this new information.
I glanced back at my shoulder, felt around the area with my fingers. The skin was still angry and hot, sore to touch, but it was no longer bleeding. There was just a small lump where the flesh had healed over.
I shivered, trying to shake off the unnerving fright that settled in my bones.
'Breathe'. Pappa's voice encouraged me to take a deep breath, and take it in my stride.
There would be answers to all of this. There had to be.
x
We watched from the sidelines as the elves cleared the carnage. A couple piles of bodies, like anthills from a nightmare, hid among the trees waiting to be moved out of the forest and disposed of.
King Amdír had left shortly after his brief appearance to deal with the 'situation' at the city.
I did not have to imagine what.
Rather than head back to Caras Galadhon with King Amdír, rather than face the elves who's peace and tranquility had been ruined for a second time since our arrival, we traded the inevitable distaste we would be met with for an hour in growing twilight, the stench of death and buzzing flies.
I absent-mindedly kept an eye on 'Wild-eyes'. He had not hesitated to help clear the carnage; heaving body after body into the growing heaps.
Their numbers had been alarming. Sixty Orcs. What purpose did they have attacking Lorinand? An unsettling angst that we were somehow responsible stirred between us. We huddled together for warmth as much as for protection.
A colder wind whistled through the branches. I pulled the cloak tighter around me, shivering, and not entirely from the drop in temperature.
There was an unnerving emptiness in my head. I disliked it. The darkness opened up like a monstrous maw, jagged teeth dripping with poison, and it beckoned me.
I am here. It said. You cannot hide.
Shivering again, I was glad when Haldir came to fetch us, but cursed my aching limbs when I had to be helped to my feet. Despite our apparent abilities to self-heal, aches and tenderness did not want to vanish immediately. I set off with a limp towards the gathered horses and riders.
Kimbela and Glenys found their horses quickly (Kimbela unsurprisingly riding behind Haldir). I looked around expectantly for my riding buddy, hoping to find Orophin or perhaps Lord Celeborn?
Heavy hooves approaching from behind had me turning on my heel a little too sharply, and I hissed as my arms, legs and back all twinged.
'Wild-eyes', straight and imposing in the saddle—which I had nearly knocked him out of earlier—regarded me with the type of curiosity reserved for observing a dragon from a 'safe' distance. He himself was no less than that, mysterious and dangerous, with his lance held loosely by his side. His posture said if we were a threat, we were not a threat to him.
"You will ride with me."
Given the circumstances, I was unsure of how best to proceed—tactfully. However, sharing the ride back to Caras Galadhon with the elf I strongly suspected was the High-King, hadn't made it onto my list of possibilities.
I tried not to single out the details that supported my theory, like the lance one of his soldiers took from his hand. Or the finely engraved circlet. Or his hair, dark, the predominant hair-colour of the house of Fingolfin.
The ribbon makes no sense though. I thought.
A golden ribbon wove through the plait that fell over his shoulder, brushing my neck as he leaned over to pull me up into the saddle in front of him.
"~We return to Caras Galadhon.~" The voice right beside my ear deepened considerably, sounding much older and baritone than the pleasant tenor from earlier. So far I could not decide if he was friendly or frightening.
Urged by a couple of sharp clicks, the beast beneath me gave a small bounce as it started off. I wobbled, finding my balance with the help of a firm hand on my back. The black stallion skittishly bounced again, throwing its head up and down wildly.
"~Rochallor! Behave!~" He reprimanded sternly, trying to hide his slight mortification. He received a lively nicker in response.
I chuckled. At the exchange between rider and horse, and the irony of this black stallion being named Rochallor.
"Is this his usual style of humour?" I asked, reaching up and wrapping my arm around the ellon's neck for better balance. It was a long way to the ground.
"One of his more unbecoming traits when in company." 'Wild-eyes' said, his voice still low. Had I misheard the gentle lilt the first time?
"I don't think so." I smiled down at Rochallor's slim neck and braided main. "A sense of humour isn't a bad thing."
"I dare say it is not."
The light of day had vanished. The trees were nothing but shadows between shadows, and the strong odour from the fresh corpses was hard to miss even when they melted into the back ground.
I covered my nose with the cloak I still wore and a pleasant woody smell washed through me. Sandalwood perhaps?
"How many elves?" I asked as we passed a spot where the smell was particularly bad, and the cloak was only barely warding it off.
"No casualties, but a few severely wounded. They were patched up and sent back to Caras Galadhon with haste."
"That is a small relief." I breathed, removing the cloak from my face as the air cleared.
"Your weapons. What grounds justify their appearance?"
I should have expected such a question. "I…would assume when we are in danger."
"They did not appear on the bridge."
I bit the inside of my bottom lip and allowed silence to follow.
No. They did not.
The world turned pitch black. The elves would be able to see in the dark, the horses too, but it did not stop my every nerve from tightening as my primary sense slowly turned useless.
An eerie light began to glow from within the forest. The bark of the trees gleaming silver as we passed, the grass and leaves cast in a ghostly pale light and—
—no, it wasn't the forest giving off that luminescence, but the elves.
Along the procession of wardens and soldiers, light permeated the darkness. It bled from their skin, through their clothing, illuminating all around them.
Just ahead, Glenys turned in her saddle, eyes wide, and mouthed an astonished 'Oh my God!'.
I nodded, consciously keeping my mouth shut as it was in danger of flopping open any moment. I glanced at the hands on the reins in front of me, then, cautiously, at the face above me. Undeniable calm swept through me, soothing rough edges of mistrust and apprehension.
He had a long face with pointed features, and his hair which, though it was dark, had definite subtle highlights of silver—like a winter kissed night when the sky was veiled by thin whips of bright moonlit clouds. His eyes shone as bright as his skin, cleaving through the darkness, carving himself and others a path.
"Who are you?" My voice spoke before I fully registered it. "You're Ñoldor. Aren't you."
My chest tightened and I had to force myself to breathe slowly when he looked at me.
Those eyes…what is he?
Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run. Excitement and fear mingled into an intoxicating, heady mix. Emboldened, I held his steady, genuine gaze. He made no sense to me. Furious on the battlefield, and then—
"Yes, we are My Lady."
"Gunda." I said before I could catch myself again. "My name is Gunda-Toril."
"Gunda-Toril." He rolled the name over his tongue, pronouncing it perfectly—more so than some who had known me my whole life. "I am Gil-Galad."
I yielded a blink. I sat in the lap of the one person in Middle-earth whom I could be held accountable to.
Shit.
"Do you fear me?" He asked. His voice had softened to a lilting song again. Friendly and unimposing.
"No. Should I?" I raised an eyebrow.
"You cannot defend yourselves against us."
"While that is true, surely that also proves we are not a threat to you."
"You tried to save your attacker. Why?"
My jaw clenched at the ugly sensation of guilt rising from the pit of my stomach. "I didn't want to see anyone get hurt."
That feeling in my chest made itself aware again. A familiar warmth begging me to fall into its open arms. I hastily pushed it aside and focused on his reply to distract myself.
No reply came. A slight nod of his head, but it could easily have been the movement of his body as we rode.
"Do you fear us?" It felt natural to ask, necessary.
Again there was no answer. He appeared as calm as if I had said nothing, keeping his eyes on the path ahead, perhaps choosing to ignore my question.
I sank into my own bubble of awkward silence, coming to the swift conclusion that he was still deciding. How much had Amdír told him? That a random woman had seen the future and it had something to do with him?
The real question that had my heart pausing in my chest was, would he demand to know.
X
I was awakened by a hand gently shaking me.
"We have arrived My lady."
"Mmm. Gunda." I reminded them, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand. A soft chuckle shocked me into full alertness. The High-King, his horse … I had fallen asleep?!
The stiff muscles in my neck and shoulders were proof of resting too long in one position. I quickly untangled my arm from around the High-King's shoulder, mumbling an apology.
Caras Galadhon was illuminated with the blue lamps Glenys had refused to believe burned with magic. In the archways of the spiralling staircases, in home windows.
My gut clenched to the point of discomfort when I noted the ring of Eldar that fringed the courtyard. A few held globes of blue light strung from straight sticks, illuminating their blameless sharp cut faces in such a way I became all the more suspicious.
"Glower any harder and they will think you harbour resentment."
I blinked. The High-King stood beside me with his hands outstretched to give me a hand down. I had registered him dismounting as much as I had felt my gaze on the elves harden.
"Oh. Sorry." I said, preparing to slide off the saddle. His hands caught my waist and lowered me gently to the ground. "~Thank you my Lord.~"
"-You are welcome my Lady.-" He replied, in Quenya.
A corner of my mouth curled up, letting him know I understood.
My stomach wanted to take off in flight when he proceeded to take my hand, holding it at chest height, and walk to the edge of the courtyard. I couldn't decide if the feeling was butterflies or hornets, so concentrated on not limping instead.
Elves bowed at the waist as the High-King passed, and he acknowledged them in return.
"~We are still on schedule for the banquet tonight—if everybody is in favour?~" King Amdír stated as the High-King and I approached the small group of distinguished people. King Amdír and his son, Lord Celeborn who stood unapologetically protective in front of Kimbela and Glenys, both watching me vigilantly. Kimbela's hand curled into a fist and the look in her eye said 'give me the word and I'll wreck shit up.'
Before I could answer, the High-King read the look as well and tactfully manoeuvred me towards them, formally handing me over to Lord Celeborn.
"~I trust you shall stay with your wards should they not wish to attend tonight. Your absence will be forgiven.~" He spoke with that deeper tone again. I was beginning to place it as his 'kingly tone'.
"~I shall inform you anon.~" Lord Celeborn said, bowing his head then swiftly retreating to his home with us in tow. The entwining willow arch that made the shaded porch was like a lighthouse on a stormy horizon. Inside was familiar and warm. The open sitting room and kitchen dining area smelled like fruit buns.
Celebrían ushered us to the washroom at the back of the talon where a warm bath was ready for us, and we each took our turn as the tub was only big enough for one person.
I sat curled up in the corner and waited my turn. The emptiness in my head endured, ironically ignoring the clamour of tumultuous issues beyond the walls I had not realised had erected themselves. Closed within a deeper place within myself. I am here. I hugged my knees tighter to my chest.
Go away. Go away. Go away.
The slight scent of horse and a stronger one of sandalwood filled my nostrils. Rich and musky. I was still wearing the High-Kings cloak.
'I am not here to cause you harm.' He had said.
He had also been unable, or unwilling, to answer my question. 'Do you fear us?'
I pushed my hand out from the folds of purple wool and scrutinised my palm. Flecked with dirt and half wiped off blood, the lines that supposedly revealed traits and life markers were still visible. What did they say about me?
I am here…you cannot ignore me…you cannot hide…I am here…
I hid my hand. Maybe the elves had every right to be fearful of us.
"Gee?"
Kimbela and Glenys crouched before me, their eyes swimming with the same fear as mine.
'What do we do now?'
"I'm going to the feast tonight." I said resolutely. "I see no reason to drag this out."
"We'll go with you." Glenys said softly, standing and offering me a hand up. "But let's get your ready first."
"How do you feel when you're fighting?" I asked, keeping my gaze on the white washed wall beyond Kimbela, the bland colour soothing rough edges of fright and twinges of guilt, but only by a little. "Because I'm scared." I had to push the words out. I felt uncomfortably tight, as though the emptiness had wrapped itself around me like a boa constrictor. Kimbela shared an uneasy glance with Glenys, then found my hand in the folds of the cloak and held it firmly.
I swallowed, strengthened by her show of support. "I feel like part of me was made to fight like that. Find power in it even. Does that make me a bad person?"
"What makes you think that?" Glenys' voice flooded with concern as she knelt beside me again.
There was too much. Too much to explain, to confront, too much of my past creeping out from the undergrowth where I had taught myself to bury it. Even in my dreams where I revisited uncomfortable memories I'd try to forget, to ignore, but this thing inside of me was demanding to be heard. I couldn't keep … fighting it alone!
"Am I dangerous?"
"Girl, we're all pretty dangerous when those Orc dudes are involved. And the elves seem pretty deadly too. What's with this-"
"Because Adam said I'm dangerous!" I blurted out, hugging my knees. "That someone as calm as me has serious anger within, I—I don't know!" I buried my face into my knees.
"That is the last thing I EVER expected to hear from you." Glenys cupped my head between her hands and lifted my gaze to her. "First off, FUCK this boy. He sounds like an arse. Second, fuck what he said." Her gaze was stern. Where once I would have felt on edge by such a look, I was comforted. "That calm you have has kept us alive. Don't you forget that."
"We all have darkness and light within us Gee." Kimbela added in. "Everyone can be dangerous."
Glenys concurred with a nod, then added; "Besides, this isn't important right now. We need to figure out what our next move is."
My bottom lip trembled as I nodded. "We figure out…why the High-King is here. Then-"
"Nononono." Glenys held her index finger to my lips. "One step at a time. High-King first, then we go from there."
The nauseating churning in my head quietened. Focusing on that one objective, I pushed all that remained of my energy on the pinhole of light in the darkness.
Breathing deeply a few times, I stood up, gripping the High-King's cloak in my hands as I mentally built up my resolve again.
"Let's do this."
Thanks for reading!
Sindarin
Ada - Father
Elleth/Ellyth - female elf/elves
Ellon/Ellyn - male elf/elves
Quenya
Heri? Súya, heri! - My lady? Breathe, my lady!
Swedish
vänd om! - Turn around! (pronounced 'vend om')