Chapter Four
After the Battle
It was a week later and Alanda ran toward the gates of the great city. Many voices sang a sad song, morning the loss of those struck down in the battle. Alanda reached the gates and found Saratu standing there, looking hopefully about. There were very few left now, compared to the number who had left. Almost every elf carried someone, either hurt, or dead. They laid the dead in a row to be buried. Saratu and Alanda held hands praying and searching. A sudden cry came form Saratu as Monilas' body was laid on the ground. His face was pail and there was dried blood covering his clothing. Alanda caught her friend as she fell.
"Listen to me," Alanda said as firmly as she could. She looked into her friend's tearing eyes, "You have to be strong. Do not give in to all the feelings. I know it's hard, but you have to be strong." Alanda feared for her friend's life.
Saratu stood and took a deep breath, " I know, I will be okay. I have a lot of hurting a head of me, but I will make it."
At last all the bodies the men carried were laid on the ground. Alanda frowned and searched the faces of all those left alive. She could not find his joyful face. She searched the dead again, but he was not there either. She turned to see a solemn faced elf talking to Thranduil. She ran over to them and the king looked sadly into her eyes,
"He was not found," was all he said before he broke down into tears.
Alanda rushed to him and held him as tears came from her eyes. She looked at the elf, confused.
"We couldn't find him after the battle," the elf began, "We fear that the spiders knew who he was and carried him off. We would have searched for him, but there were so few of us left that we could not hold off another attack."
Alanda looked into the king's eyes, felling his pain. She couldn't stay here any longer, "I am sorry," she stammered, "but I cannot stay."
Without another word, she ran blindly toward the stable. She swung open the stall door and pulled herself up onto Sáilon. She took off blindly, not knowing at first where she would go, but soon decided to make for the place Legolas had taken on their first ride. She urged Sáilon as fast as she could go. They reached the hills in only a few hours. Alanda slipped off her mare and practically crawled up the hill. She did not have the energy to climb the tree they had sat in. She threw herself onto the ground underneath the tree and wept.
She cried until there were no more tears left. She just sat in silence, remembering the first time they had been there. Legolas had held her and made her feel loved. She thought about the many hours they had spent walking together. She remembered how hard it had been it be apart from him for two weeks.
"How will I ever manage a lifetime without him?" she wailed as she felt herself growing pail.
Back in the city people were starting to dig graves for the dead. Thranduil had been taken to his room to morn the loss of his son alone. No one seemed to notice an exhausted elf ride in for they were too filled with grief. The elf searched every face in hope, but he was disappointed. He turned to the nearest elf and asked,
"Where is the king?"
"He was taken to his room to morn," the elf answered without looking up.
They elf swung off his horse and ran to the king's room. An elf was guarding the door.
"You cannot enter. He is sleeping," the guard said.
"Where is Alanda?" the elf demanded.
"Know one knows. She took off several hours ago and no one has seen her since," the guard looked up and gasped, "Shall I wake the King?"
"No, just tell him that I have returned," the elf answered and left.