Chapter Two: A Meeting
The young elf-maiden strode uneasily through the tall, ancient mellyrn. They seemed to whisper secrets to her heart as she stepped around their roots. They told of times long past, and deeds long finished. These beings seemed beacons from across the tides of time, their overbearing history unsettled her already wavering spirit.
The maiden's name was Londe, she was young for her kin, only 36 years old. Her countenance was fair and framed by the waves of her hair which seemed at times to glisten as the sun. She stood at a height of only 5 feet, short for the standards of men, and miniscule by elven standards. This was due to her father, a mortal man wed to an elven woman. Both her parents were good, loving people. They brought her up in a small cabin on the outskirts of Rohan. Their they lived a secluded existence, happy with eachother and their daughter. All their happiness was dashed away in one night.
A band of orcs travelling north from Isengard came upon their tiny home on empty stomachs. Windows were smashed, tables overturned and furnishings destroyed. The orcs killed and feasted on her parents. The only reason Londe survived was because she had been behind the house gathering firewood when the orcs decided to break into the cabin. She heard the noises of the attack, grunts, smashing glass, and most piercing...the screams of her parents. Throughout it all Londe stood frozen from fear under the starlight behind her formerlly safe home.
Morning found Londe sitting in the grass with her back to the side of the cabin. She stared directly in front of her with every muscle in her body tensed. A look of shock resided on her face and she seemed not to notice anything of her surroundings. So when the two riders of the Rohirrim inspected her, they were quite worried over her condition. It took a full half-day for Londe to begin to respond to the two former friends of her parents, Falamin and Neomer. As she awoke from her shock the two men comforted her, yet she did not show signs of grief. She only looked fragile.
Londe's thoughts strayed to that night and the realization she had. Her parents were gone, she cried herself to sleep for three nights after that. On the fourth night she spoke with kinsmen of her father and they agreed that she should journey to the land of her mother, perhaps seeing her elven kin would help sooth the healing process. And so she found her self journeying close to the southern borders of Lothlorien.
Fear and trepidation filled her with each step she took closer to her mother's homeland. When she had sent out with the six escourts she had felt cleansed. She was going to visit her elven home. Londe had never met any elves besides her mother, this was an exciting event for her, despite her recent loss. Now, though, her excitement gave way to panic. The six men accompanying her had taken her as far as the brink of the forest, they refused to go any farther. When she questioned their refusal they told her of the stories of a witch ruling the forest and fierce border guards that would shoot anything that moved with godly presition. With these stories floating in her head she demounted her horse, it would have to be returned to Rohan, and began the rest of the journey to the borders on foot.
Londe knew she was beginning to approach the borders, she could feel the back of her neck tingle and her spine seemed to creak and cramp up. Doubt filled her heart. How did she know they would allow her to enter their Realm? What if they turned her away? What would she do? These thoughts resounded in her mind when out of nowhere a deadly sharp arrowhead appeard only inches from her face.
"What is your business in the Golden Wood?" inquired a low, male voice. Londe turned her head a fraction of an inch to see that she was surrounded by elves in gray tunics and leggings with bows drawn. With that finite movement she heard the wood of the bow belonging to the questioning elf creak as he drew his arrow back further. Sweat sprung upon her brow and she quickly faced the speaker once more.
"I- I- IIII...err..." Londe couldn't find herself. She didn't know the answer. Why was she here?
"Answer me!" The elf demanded."Who are you?"
"M-my name is Londe, I am the daughter of Nimranwen, an elven woman of these lands. I come to learn more of my kin."
"And you foolishly expected to be admitted into the Wood of Lorien with the telling of a name and a story? You expected to be welcomed without question? Spies are abroad. The world falls under shadow. We can trust no one."
It was happening! He would turn her away. She would have no where to go. She could not travel back to Rohan on foot with no provisions. What was going to happen to her? As these thoughts raced through her head she let out a subconsious squeak that she didn't seem to even notice. She lifted her face almost straight up to peer into the storm gray eyes of the elf before her. For the first time she realized what an intimidating presense he had. He stood at least two feet higher than her, as did all the elves surrounding her. It must be easy to tell that my blood is not purely elven she thought.
"You must be taken before the Lord and Lady, they will determine your fate." Almost before Londe could register his words she was being taken further into the wood.
The young elf-maiden strode uneasily through the tall, ancient mellyrn. They seemed to whisper secrets to her heart as she stepped around their roots. They told of times long past, and deeds long finished. These beings seemed beacons from across the tides of time, their overbearing history unsettled her already wavering spirit.
The maiden's name was Londe, she was young for her kin, only 36 years old. Her countenance was fair and framed by the waves of her hair which seemed at times to glisten as the sun. She stood at a height of only 5 feet, short for the standards of men, and miniscule by elven standards. This was due to her father, a mortal man wed to an elven woman. Both her parents were good, loving people. They brought her up in a small cabin on the outskirts of Rohan. Their they lived a secluded existence, happy with eachother and their daughter. All their happiness was dashed away in one night.
A band of orcs travelling north from Isengard came upon their tiny home on empty stomachs. Windows were smashed, tables overturned and furnishings destroyed. The orcs killed and feasted on her parents. The only reason Londe survived was because she had been behind the house gathering firewood when the orcs decided to break into the cabin. She heard the noises of the attack, grunts, smashing glass, and most piercing...the screams of her parents. Throughout it all Londe stood frozen from fear under the starlight behind her formerlly safe home.
Morning found Londe sitting in the grass with her back to the side of the cabin. She stared directly in front of her with every muscle in her body tensed. A look of shock resided on her face and she seemed not to notice anything of her surroundings. So when the two riders of the Rohirrim inspected her, they were quite worried over her condition. It took a full half-day for Londe to begin to respond to the two former friends of her parents, Falamin and Neomer. As she awoke from her shock the two men comforted her, yet she did not show signs of grief. She only looked fragile.
Londe's thoughts strayed to that night and the realization she had. Her parents were gone, she cried herself to sleep for three nights after that. On the fourth night she spoke with kinsmen of her father and they agreed that she should journey to the land of her mother, perhaps seeing her elven kin would help sooth the healing process. And so she found her self journeying close to the southern borders of Lothlorien.
Fear and trepidation filled her with each step she took closer to her mother's homeland. When she had sent out with the six escourts she had felt cleansed. She was going to visit her elven home. Londe had never met any elves besides her mother, this was an exciting event for her, despite her recent loss. Now, though, her excitement gave way to panic. The six men accompanying her had taken her as far as the brink of the forest, they refused to go any farther. When she questioned their refusal they told her of the stories of a witch ruling the forest and fierce border guards that would shoot anything that moved with godly presition. With these stories floating in her head she demounted her horse, it would have to be returned to Rohan, and began the rest of the journey to the borders on foot.
Londe knew she was beginning to approach the borders, she could feel the back of her neck tingle and her spine seemed to creak and cramp up. Doubt filled her heart. How did she know they would allow her to enter their Realm? What if they turned her away? What would she do? These thoughts resounded in her mind when out of nowhere a deadly sharp arrowhead appeard only inches from her face.
"What is your business in the Golden Wood?" inquired a low, male voice. Londe turned her head a fraction of an inch to see that she was surrounded by elves in gray tunics and leggings with bows drawn. With that finite movement she heard the wood of the bow belonging to the questioning elf creak as he drew his arrow back further. Sweat sprung upon her brow and she quickly faced the speaker once more.
"I- I- IIII...err..." Londe couldn't find herself. She didn't know the answer. Why was she here?
"Answer me!" The elf demanded."Who are you?"
"M-my name is Londe, I am the daughter of Nimranwen, an elven woman of these lands. I come to learn more of my kin."
"And you foolishly expected to be admitted into the Wood of Lorien with the telling of a name and a story? You expected to be welcomed without question? Spies are abroad. The world falls under shadow. We can trust no one."
It was happening! He would turn her away. She would have no where to go. She could not travel back to Rohan on foot with no provisions. What was going to happen to her? As these thoughts raced through her head she let out a subconsious squeak that she didn't seem to even notice. She lifted her face almost straight up to peer into the storm gray eyes of the elf before her. For the first time she realized what an intimidating presense he had. He stood at least two feet higher than her, as did all the elves surrounding her. It must be easy to tell that my blood is not purely elven she thought.
"You must be taken before the Lord and Lady, they will determine your fate." Almost before Londe could register his words she was being taken further into the wood.