Chapter 10

The Hall of Fire slowly emptied as the feasters decided to retire for the night or spend the rest of their evening elsewhere. Saelaethor had yet to decide if he would return to his room or take a leisurely stroll down by the riverside as he walked with Amathȋr, Lord Glorfindel's second-in-command, out of the hall.

Though the dark-haired, hawkish Saelaethor wasn't overly fond of the golden Balrog Slayer, he did have an amicable relationship with Amathȋr. The slender, blond-haired Elf was more levelheaded and well-read than his commander, and didn't grow bored with scholarly conversations. He sometimes wondered if it was truly Glorfindel who led Elrond's forces, but felt that his animosity against the Vanya was often misplaced.

He conversed with Amathȋr as they strolled down the corridors and out into an adjacent garden, intending to get a bit of fresh air before deciding where to spend the remainder of the night. Several others had the same idea, and Saelaethor could see members of Elrond's household along with Men from Númenor and Tharbad amongst the flora.

"If you recall, Rúmil said that most philosophical arguments were due to our inability to communicate effectively," Saelaethor said as he walked side by side with the blond Elf, continuing the conversation they had started in the Hall. "He felt that the current language was inefficient for explaining what we meant, so how are we to judge if our language has met his standards?"

"I think our language is adequate for expressing what we mean. It is up to the speaker to use the correct words, I think," Amathȋr replied. "I can make it plain that I agree with Lindhren of Lindon's philosophy that all of Ilúvatar and Morgoth's creations are at odds because Ilúvatar's were created with a purpose and Morgoth's none, so I tend to think that our current language is sufficient enough for communicating whether you or I agree or disagree with that notion."

"Agreed. However, is it possible that what he meant was that with the ideal means of communication that there would be no misunderstandings or arguments?" he said as they reached a balustrade that overlooked the east courtyard.

"People will always argue over matters whether there is adequate language or not," Amathȋr said as he leaned against the railing while Saelaethor rested his hands upon it. "Just because there is an effective means of expressing what we think does not mean that will be the end of disagreements."

"Perhaps with the best language the severity will decrease, or—what in all of Arda," Saelaethor startled when he saw the dark robed Erestor ride hard into the courtyard with Princess Ereiniel behind him.

"Alert the Marchwardens!" Ereiniel shouted at the two guards that stood by the entrance. "There are orcs in the valley!"

Saelaethor and Amathȋr bolted towards the nearest stairwell as one of the guards blew three loud blasts from his horn, which resonated throughout the entire valley. Ereiniel dismounted when they came up to her, their fine robes billowing about them, expecting the worst.

"Amathȋr, gather the guard and begin searching the woods, down by the Bluebell Meadow, that is where Erestor and I were attacked," Ereiniel said as more Elves who saw and heard her gathered around. "I don't know how many are out there, so be careful."

Amathȋr inclined his head and immediately departed to carry out her command, instructing the two guards to follow him.

"Saelaethor, we will assist them," Ereiniel said as she started towards the doorway leading inside the house. Saelaethor, Erestor, and others followed. "Summon Lothiriel and our scouts, we will all meet at the stables."

"Of course milady," Saelaethor said as they marched up the stairway and came upon the feasters lingering outside the Hall of Fire.

"Has anyone seen Glorfindel?" she said, walking through the crowd, which parted before her.

"No milady," Saelaethor said, knowing Glorfindel had not been in attendance that evening. "He has not been seen here."

"Someone find him!" Ereiniel said before one of the tall, bearded, and exquisitely dressed Númenoreans waylaid her.

"Is there a problem milady?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concern. "Is it true there are orcs in the valley?"

Ereiniel sucked in a breath as she hesitated to answer. She didn't want anyone to panic, though she did not know what their purpose was or how many were out there. However, if they were being besieged, she wanted everyone prepared for the worst. In this case, she figured honesty was the best policy.

"Yes, I saw one," Ereiniel replied. "I killed it, but there are more out there. However, you will be safe if you remain here, I promise you that."

"Are we besieged?" another Númenorean, this one younger than the first, asked of her. "Have Sauron's forces come to destroy Rivendell?"

"Sauron does not have the strength following the Battle of Gwathló," Erestor stated. "His army was destroyed, and the number of orcs needed for a significant attack have not been seen in decades."

The Númenoreans didn't look convinced as they looked to each other and started to speak lowly. Ereiniel's spine stiffened and her shoulders squared as the rest of the hall stirred in nervous agitation. Startled voices filled the air along with a tense energy and Ereiniel felt she had made a terrible mistake.

What would ada or Elrond say to quell it? She thought, her heart pounding in her chest.

"The princess has promised that we will be safe here," a trembling, soft spoken voice suddenly broke the rising panic.

All eyes, including Ereiniel's turned towards a withered, grey bearded man in worn furs and unadorned clothing. He was one of the men from Tharbad, she realized, and a small group of other similarly dressed men stood with him. His drooping, sad looking eyes never left her as he continued to speak.

"She has protected this valley many times before, and I have no doubt we are in the safest place in Middle-earth. We have no need to fear if Ereiniel Thalarián has said so," he said, and she felt her heart swell at his words.

She glanced at Erestor, who stood with a knowing smirk upon his face. I told you so, she could hear him saying in her mind. Ereiniel couldn't stop the own grin forming on her face as she turned back to the men.

"Thank you for your kind words milord," Ereiniel said, wishing she could remember the man's name. "I will personally see to it that these orcs are found and killed, I will not allow them to harm any who are here. You may hold me to that promise."

The man bowed, as did those who accompanied him, and Ereiniel inclined her head in response. She turned to the Númenoreans, who also bowed when she addressed them.

"You may hold me accountable as well, if you so choose," she said.

"Nay, milady," the elder responded. "The old man is right; we know well that it was you who commanded the High King's vanguard at the battle of Gwathló that liberated Rivendell, and even before then it was you who safeguarded the survivors of Eregion by waylaying Sauron's forces. There is no need to hold you accountable to that which you have successfully accomplished in the past."

"Thank you, milord," she inclined her head, then turned her attention to the rest of the hall. "Do forgive me for interrupting your pleasant evening, please continue to enjoy my kinsman's hospitality."

She started back down the corridor, her entourage behind her, and grabbed Erestor's arm when they rounded a corner. "Please make sure there is a generous spread at breakfast tomorrow and that someone assures everyone that the orcs were found and killed."

"The valley is vast milady," Erestor whispered back to her. "It could take many days for them to be found."

Ereiniel released Erestor's arm and drew herself up to her full height as she marched down the corridor, her silver skirts swishing with every step. She was not the wisest speaker amongst the Eldar, but she was certainly one of the best at killing orcs. No enemy had yet to withstand her wrath.

"I can assure you Lord Erestor," she said with absolute confidence. "That they will all be dead by morning."