Welcome back! I'd like to apologize for any faults in this chapter—I'm not well-versed in the arts of war, so if Lórien's numbers are waaaaay messed up, somebody TELL me so I don't look like that much of a fool! And it's not mine. It's TOLKIEN'S.
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Help Me Win ...
Chapter Two~Greet the Morning Sun
Airië all but jumped awake. Five nights. It had been five nights since she had heard or seen any sign of the orcs that had invaded Imladris. She still had no idea as to the outcome of the battle that had taken place. Fear for her father, Glorfindel, and her home was, for now, kept at bay by the need to get away. Shame had reared it's ugly head three nights before, and she could still feel the pangs of guilt at leaving all she knew behind for the orcs to prey upon. They would stay for awhile—they may well stay forever. She would deserve them.
It was time to get going again. Airië heaved herself to her light elven-feet, though not so light after four days of little food, water, and rest. And still, after having got so far, she was not yet as far as she needed to be. The uneasiness of the land troubled her nearly as badly as it had when she had first set out. Something was still coming—the war wasn't over yet. And here she stood, still with Caradhras between herself and Lórien.
The mountain stood grinning in the growing glimmer of sunlight. The golden rays bounced off the snow-covered peaks, mocking her in their beautiful light. Airië knew the day ahead was to be long and anything but enjoyable.
Sighing and wishing for at least a glimpse of something from home, Airië took the first few steps that would lead her, eventually, to the other side of the mountain. If it would let her. Caradhras wasn't too fond of elves, and she wasn't confident that there was anything to distract it. Her presence would not go unnoticed.
That thought hadn't crossed her mind when she'd hastily let her feet turn south. But she couldn't change that now—speed was her only remaining ally. Her elven-eyes gazed up the slopes of the mountain, and a forboding dread fell heavy on her shoulders. Yes, today promised to be a very, very long day.
*~*
"My lord, two more bands of Orcs have been seen marching on the northern border." Celeborn paced his flet as he had done all morning, hands clasped behind his back and eyes fixed on the floor. He muttered something to himself under his breath, seeming to take no notice of the messenger that stood beside the ladder-exit to the forest floor. After turning and walking the breadth of the flet once more, he turned and fixed his dark eyes on the messenger.
"Thank you. Would you please send to Haldir for me?" He asked, his face fixed into a grim expression that seemed rather intimidating to his messenger.
"Of course, lord." The messenger turned and made his way down the hithlain ladder without so much as a backward glance. It was a good thing Lórien saw war rarely; any more often and Celeborn would terrify everyone out of the forest.
The pacing continued—it was surprising there was still any floor left—for a few more minutes. Then Haldir, Celeborn's captain of the guard, climbed lightly onto the flet. "My lord?" It was really sometimes tedious to follow such formalities, but elves observe them all the same.
"Our numbers, Haldir, what are our numbers?" Celeborn said, as if impatiant for an answer he had long thought over.
"We have but two hundred to spare to Rohan; even then we will have only four hundred to defend the forest."
"Six hundreds? Is that all Lórien has to offer?" Celeborn questioned, his elven-eyes burning.
"This is the second assault, my lord." Haldir answered darkly. "Their first was not frivolous." Celeborn's gaze wandered the flet. He would not let Lórien fall. But Rohan—should Rohan fall, Gondor would follow soon after; the war would be as good as lost.
The clasped hands raised to his temples, and Celeborn rubbed his head as he worked his mind. "How many came from Rivendell?" He turned his eyes to Haldir again.
"Two hundreds." A short answer, but accurate. Haldir seemed almost as lost in thought as Celeborn was.
"That would make four to Rohan—who is captaining them?" The Lord of Lórien lowered his hands and clasped them behind his back again.
"I am." Haldir's eyes focused on Celeborn again as he said this—he knew his lord would be none too pleased.
"You?" Celeborn turned a sharp glance to the side and ended up glaring at a mallorn—scaring away Haldir might be hard to accomplish, but the possibility wasn't worth the risk. "Who appointed you?" He asked the mallorn. Haldir answered.
"The Lady Galadriel." Celeborn nodded at this. Thinking it was safe to do so, he let his smouldering gaze return to his captain of the guard.
"Indeed. You set out at dawn?" Haldir nodded once. "Organize the remaining men for me—I will lead them myself."
"Yes, lord." Haldir left, like the messenger, without a backward glance. Wondering how Galadriel did it, he made his way down the ladder once more.
Celeborn stood on his flet, alone, looking over the forest from above. He sent a silent thanks to the Valar that it was still there ... he prayed it would still be there to greet the next morning's sun.
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Yay! You've finished this chapter, too! Be proud! Now, REVIEW! *does evil Galadriel thing as best she can* It's not working, is it? The Legolas Puppy Dog Face© worked in the other story, must I use it again? Review for meee!!! *cry* Chapter Three coming soon ... if I get some reviews ... *evil laugh*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Help Me Win ...
Chapter Two~Greet the Morning Sun
Airië all but jumped awake. Five nights. It had been five nights since she had heard or seen any sign of the orcs that had invaded Imladris. She still had no idea as to the outcome of the battle that had taken place. Fear for her father, Glorfindel, and her home was, for now, kept at bay by the need to get away. Shame had reared it's ugly head three nights before, and she could still feel the pangs of guilt at leaving all she knew behind for the orcs to prey upon. They would stay for awhile—they may well stay forever. She would deserve them.
It was time to get going again. Airië heaved herself to her light elven-feet, though not so light after four days of little food, water, and rest. And still, after having got so far, she was not yet as far as she needed to be. The uneasiness of the land troubled her nearly as badly as it had when she had first set out. Something was still coming—the war wasn't over yet. And here she stood, still with Caradhras between herself and Lórien.
The mountain stood grinning in the growing glimmer of sunlight. The golden rays bounced off the snow-covered peaks, mocking her in their beautiful light. Airië knew the day ahead was to be long and anything but enjoyable.
Sighing and wishing for at least a glimpse of something from home, Airië took the first few steps that would lead her, eventually, to the other side of the mountain. If it would let her. Caradhras wasn't too fond of elves, and she wasn't confident that there was anything to distract it. Her presence would not go unnoticed.
That thought hadn't crossed her mind when she'd hastily let her feet turn south. But she couldn't change that now—speed was her only remaining ally. Her elven-eyes gazed up the slopes of the mountain, and a forboding dread fell heavy on her shoulders. Yes, today promised to be a very, very long day.
*~*
"My lord, two more bands of Orcs have been seen marching on the northern border." Celeborn paced his flet as he had done all morning, hands clasped behind his back and eyes fixed on the floor. He muttered something to himself under his breath, seeming to take no notice of the messenger that stood beside the ladder-exit to the forest floor. After turning and walking the breadth of the flet once more, he turned and fixed his dark eyes on the messenger.
"Thank you. Would you please send to Haldir for me?" He asked, his face fixed into a grim expression that seemed rather intimidating to his messenger.
"Of course, lord." The messenger turned and made his way down the hithlain ladder without so much as a backward glance. It was a good thing Lórien saw war rarely; any more often and Celeborn would terrify everyone out of the forest.
The pacing continued—it was surprising there was still any floor left—for a few more minutes. Then Haldir, Celeborn's captain of the guard, climbed lightly onto the flet. "My lord?" It was really sometimes tedious to follow such formalities, but elves observe them all the same.
"Our numbers, Haldir, what are our numbers?" Celeborn said, as if impatiant for an answer he had long thought over.
"We have but two hundred to spare to Rohan; even then we will have only four hundred to defend the forest."
"Six hundreds? Is that all Lórien has to offer?" Celeborn questioned, his elven-eyes burning.
"This is the second assault, my lord." Haldir answered darkly. "Their first was not frivolous." Celeborn's gaze wandered the flet. He would not let Lórien fall. But Rohan—should Rohan fall, Gondor would follow soon after; the war would be as good as lost.
The clasped hands raised to his temples, and Celeborn rubbed his head as he worked his mind. "How many came from Rivendell?" He turned his eyes to Haldir again.
"Two hundreds." A short answer, but accurate. Haldir seemed almost as lost in thought as Celeborn was.
"That would make four to Rohan—who is captaining them?" The Lord of Lórien lowered his hands and clasped them behind his back again.
"I am." Haldir's eyes focused on Celeborn again as he said this—he knew his lord would be none too pleased.
"You?" Celeborn turned a sharp glance to the side and ended up glaring at a mallorn—scaring away Haldir might be hard to accomplish, but the possibility wasn't worth the risk. "Who appointed you?" He asked the mallorn. Haldir answered.
"The Lady Galadriel." Celeborn nodded at this. Thinking it was safe to do so, he let his smouldering gaze return to his captain of the guard.
"Indeed. You set out at dawn?" Haldir nodded once. "Organize the remaining men for me—I will lead them myself."
"Yes, lord." Haldir left, like the messenger, without a backward glance. Wondering how Galadriel did it, he made his way down the ladder once more.
Celeborn stood on his flet, alone, looking over the forest from above. He sent a silent thanks to the Valar that it was still there ... he prayed it would still be there to greet the next morning's sun.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Yay! You've finished this chapter, too! Be proud! Now, REVIEW! *does evil Galadriel thing as best she can* It's not working, is it? The Legolas Puppy Dog Face© worked in the other story, must I use it again? Review for meee!!! *cry* Chapter Three coming soon ... if I get some reviews ... *evil laugh*