Lorien
Several days later Mirilendilme and her company had reached Lothlorien. It had been nearly a month since they left Thranduil's halls. After their incident in the foothills, and the long lonely days in the colds of the new year upon the fields were few creatures now lived, glad they were to be welcomed to Lorien. Gildulin who had been wounded by an Orc arrow (which fortunately had not been poisoned), was taken for healing, and the rest came to Caras Galadhon before the Lord and Lady. Though the name of her father had the Lady's respect, less forgiving was Celeborn's judgment. "Grievous are the innumerous woes wrought by your forefathers. What hope did you think to bring to us? Were it my decision I would not allow you a part in this war against Gorthaur; I am wary even to trust your presence here."
"I understand. But judgement, my Lord, I think is something you have not earned," she said. "Is not your own wife a daughter of the Noldor? Close in kin to the troublemakers of Arda as you would call them? Is not my mother of your own kin?"
Galadriel interrupted. "Judge a child not by the actions of her predecessor! Or any Elf by the actions of his father. For here she is right - if you judge those by the deeds of their kin then you are also obliged to judge your own."
Celeborn then apologized, and offered his aid. Mirilendilme and her Elves took their leave to rest and acquaint themselves with the fair land of her childhood (and of the kin of many of the others), though fairer it seemed than she had remembered it. Soon thereafter the Lady brought Mirilendilme to her mirror, in which she saw much concerning her father, and her forefathers in ages past, and the Rings of Power. There came a vision of the land that her father had once governed, Eregion, but long abandoned and in ruin. But she suddenly spied a small company of travelers walking through it, and she wondered.
The Lady also gave her the heirlooms that she had held in secret for a long time. The first was a sword; wrought by her father's own hands. "It was neglected during the plunder of the Dark One," she said. There seemed to be movement in the darkness of its sheath, for it seemed as though the smooth waters of a deep river were rushing over it. The sword itself was mighty and long, with the same stones of the Three (ruby, adamant and sapphire), in the hilt. Black was its blade, though it would gleam like bright gold and silver when wielded or commanded.
Boots, and a short cape, all dark as the sword's sheath. Galadriel pulled out a coat of mail. "Galvorn it is called," she said. "It is like the prized mithril of both the Dwarves and Elves, yet shining black as jet. It was given unto your father by Narvi of the Dwarves of Hadhodrond. To them it had been passed from their kin of the Ered Luin of Old, who had received it from the Dark Elf Eol who wrought it."
Mirilendilme thanked the Lady and retired to a large, multi-layered flet that had been prepared for her. It even had a sheltered enclosure constructed around most of it. She was very grateful for such a moment of peace, for even Elves can grow weary in such worrisome times.
The Battle Under the Trees
The news came to Lorien in the middle of the night, just as January had passed its peak. Mirilendilme lay in light rest in the way of the Elves in her chambers when she was roused by a growing commotion. Coming out into the open she soon learned that a strange company found up the Nimrodel were currently hunted by a legion of Orcs. Her heart sank and leapt at the same time. The Prince was in trouble. And so was the Ring. She fetched her sword (and her bow and quiver) and forgetting all else sped down from her flet to join the mustering at the borders, where some of her own company had already joined at the rear. Ere long they were off through the woods in the dark night. She worked her way up to the front, where she found Sirendil already marching, calling out that there were enough Elves to split the lot into two halves. The leader needed little persuasion for that; though he was certainly surprised when he finally turned and found that this counsel had come from a young maiden, looking like one of the Lady's handmaids in their lovely robes. But he knew well who she was; seeing the light against her black hair and the weapons hastily strewn about her. Then one saw her bare feet and laughed. "It seems this evening is full of strange sights and surprises, my Lady, daughter of the Noldorin warriors!" he said. "My name is Haldir. Come, you shall join my half. But please," he said with a smile as he cast a grey cloak about her, "do not counsel strategy if you would defeat it yourself by calling the enemy's attention with bright raiment!"
"Of course," Mirilendilme whispered, regretting that she had not stopped to change out of the rich robes she had received. They crossed over the Celebrant. The left half she went with as it peeled off to the west to meet the onslaught while the right half continued straight so to close them in from the north. Her half swiftly crept in stealth diagonally south and west to route the Orcs in the direction of the other flank. They jumped out from the woods upon the Orcs who were passing them by, and Mirilendilme found them a bit more of a challenge than the rogue hunters she encountered back in Mirkwood. There were a great deal more of them, and they were wild with fury and lust for vengeance. Still they were surprised greatly by the Elves, who also were a lot more than she had with her in Mirkwood, and with far stronger weapons. The Orcs at first fought hard, and the arrows flew. Of the Elven arrows Mirilendilme marveled at their far range and accuracy. Mirilendilme drawing her sword went at those who came near, and the terrible Western light gleaming from her black sword dismayed her enemies. Soon the Elven troops were driving them back.
These Orcs were hardy fighters, however, and the Elves had been pushing them back slowly and inconsistently for long when the northern flank finally came upon the Orcs from the rear. Thus at last they were sandwiched, and fled to either opening as the walls came together. Suddenly more Elves that had issued out after them from across the river came in, reinforcing the lines and and closing the eastern opening so the only escape for their enemies was back to the West. In this way nearly all of the Orcs were slain. The few that were left were pursued or left to run in shame back to Moria.