Disclaimer: Gee, I'm sick of disclaimers. Let's just say that anybody who
didn't appear in any of the works by Tolkien belongs to me. The End.
Echoes of the Narbeleth
Spirit Star
Chapter 12: In which the shade of doubt darkens
There came a great rippling of muscle and a large clanking of armor as row by row, the horses reared as their riders turned them sharply. Like the rippling of grass, swift and soft, the Riders circled around them. Their spears were drawn downward and aimed at their hearts. Adariel fought the impulse to reach for her arrows.
Aragorn stood silent and the others were left with lingering thoughts about how things would turn out. The Riders drew inward and came closer. The circle tightened. Without a spoken word, they suddenly halted. The points of arrows shone along with the spear blades. One rode forward. He was the tallest one and his horse was proud and prancing. Still he advanced until his spear was within a foot of Aragorn's breast. Still, he did not stir.
"Who are you, and what are you doing in this land?" said the Rider, using the Common Speech of the West but in a tone not unlike Boromir's. Adariel saw Boromir snort a little.
"I am called Strider," answered Aragorn calmly. "I came out of the North and I am hunting a band of Orcs."
The Rider leaped from his horse. The horse pranced backwards, eyes rolling. Giving his spear to another who rode up and dismounted at his side, he drew his sword and stood face to face with Aragorn, surveying him keenly. The blade flashed white. Adariel closed her eyes and held her breath in the shadow of her hood. She was tense, and put all her concentration in her ears. But no clashing of metal came. It was the Rider who spoke again.
"When you called out, I thought that you were Orcs yourselves. But you know little of Orcs if you hunt them in this way. They are swift, well armed and they travel in large groups. You would have been slaughtered if you had caught up with them. But there is something strange about you, Strider. That is no name for a Man that you give, even one from the North. And you are clad in strange clothing. Have you sprung from the ground? If you had not, then we would surely have sighted you as we rode past. Are you elvish folk?"
"No," Aragorn said. "Only two of us are amongst their number, but we have passed through the Golden Woods of Lothlorien and the gifts and the favor of the Lady go with us."
The Rider looked at them with renewed wonder, but his eyes became dim and his face became grim. "Then there is indeed a Lady in the Golden Wood, as the old stories tell!" he said. "Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favor, then you are also net weavers and sorcerers, maybe. You bring strangeness in your stride." He turned and threw a cold glance at the rest of them. "Why do you not speak? Have you no tongue that we may understand?"
Before the rest of them could say anything, Boromir stepped forward with anger laced in his voice. "Speak again, Rider of the West, and the brothership between Gondor and Rohan may end here."
"We know of you, Boromir son of Denethor," the Rider said, his eyes on Boromir. "Peace then, we wish no conflict upon you. But what of your companions?"
Gimli rose and planted his feet firmly apart: his hand gripped the handle of his ax and his dark eyes flashed. "You dare insult the Lady of the Woods? Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine. And more." He jerked his ax menacingly.
"As for that," said the Rider, staring down at the Dwarf, "the stranger should declare himself first. But I shall humor you. I am Eomer, son of Eomund, and am called the Third Marshal of the Riddermark."
"Then, Eomer son of Eomund, I am Gimli son of Dwarf Gloin. You speak with foolishness of the evil that is fair beyond your thought. Your only excuse is little wit, and I pardon you for it."
Eomer's eyes flashed and the Men of Rohan muttered angrily, spears and arrows pointed closer. Eomer raised his sword. "I would cut off your heard, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it were a little higher from the ground."
"He stands not alone," said Legolas, bending his bow and fitting an arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight. "You would die before your stroke fell."
"If it weren't for the peace between Gondor and Rohan, know that I would join him." Boromir added, shifting his hand to his hilt, then dropping it back to his side again. The Riders of Rohan advanced again.
Things would have gone ill, but Aragorn sprang between them and raised his hand. "Your pardon, Eomer!" he cried. "When you know more you will understand why you have angered my companions so. We intend no evil to Rohan, nor to any of its folk, neither to man nor to horse. Will you not hear our tale before you strike?"
"That, I will agree to do," Eomer said, lowering his blade. "But wanderers in Riddermark would do well to be less haughty in these dark days. And there is one who has not yet spoken." He said the first part of the speech with a glare at Gimli and Legolas, but then turned his eyes to Adariel, whose hood was still up.
"Well? Speak, stranger, but take heed what you say!" Eomer cried. All eyes turned on Adariel.
"I have naught to say," she said finally. Where everybody else had thrown back their hoods, Adariel's still hid her face from view.
"Then," Eomer said, "you are different from your companions. Now, Strider, first tell me your right name before you continue with your tale."
"I will that, if you tell me whom you serve," said Aragorn. "Are you friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?"
"I serve only the Lord of the Mark, Theoden King son of Thengel," answered Eomer. "We do not serve the Power of the Black Land far away, but neither are we yet at open war with him. If you are fleeing from him you had better leave this land. There is trouble now on all our borders and we are threatened. But we desire only to be free and to live as we have lived, keeping our own, and serving no foreign lord, good or evil. We welcome guests kindly in better days but in these times the unbidden stranger finds us to be hard in our judgment. Come! Who are you? Whom do YOU serve? At whose command do you hunt Orcs in our land that we keep guarded?"
"I serve no man," Aragorn said. "But the servants of Sauron I pursue into whatever land they may go. There are few among mortal Men who know more of Orcs; and I do not hunt them in this fashion out of choice. The Orcs whom we pursued took captive two of my friends. Even as I am without a horse, I go on foot. I am not weaponless."
Aragorn threw back his cloak. The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Anduril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. "Elendil!" he cried. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the hair of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!"
They looked at him. All of them. Adariel was surprised at his sudden change in stature and she could tell that none of her companions had seen him in this mood before. Eomer seemed to have shrunk even as Aragorn was speaking. There was a flame that flickered in his eyes and a brief vision of majestic power that shone. For a moment it seemed in Adariel's eyes that a white flame flickered on the brows of Aragorn like a shining crown, and she stepped back.
Eomer stepped back too, with a look of awe on his face. He cast down his proud eyes. "These are strange days indeed," he said, "Dreams and legend spring to life out of the very grass that we have nurtured. Tell me, lord, what brings you here? And what was the meaning of the dark words? What doom do you bring out of the North?"
"The doom of choice," said Aragorn. "You may say this to Theoden son of Thengel: open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. None may live now as they have lived. Few shall keep what they call their own. If chance allows, I will come to the king myself. Now I am in great need, and I ask for your aid, and if you cannot give that, at least give us your tidings. You heard that we are pursuing an orc-host that carried off our friends. What can you tell us?"
"And," Adariel spoke up, "what news have you of Lakewood in the Fangorn?"
"Ah," Eomer said. "So the Silent One speaks at last and we may learn more of him. Lakewood is a place we dare not speak of. Rumors arise that it has fallen under a great shadow but our folk are not one to mix with Elves and we go about our ways. Still, if we avoided the Fangorn in the days of peace, we avoid it more so now. As for the Orcs, they are destroyed."
"And our friends?"
"We slew none but Orcs, likewise, we found none but Orcs."
"But that is strange indeed," Aragorn frowned. "Did you search the slain? Were there no bodies other than those of the orc kind? They would be small, childlike to your eyes but in gray."
"We found no Dwarves or children," said Eomer. "We counted all the slain we burnt their bodies as is our custom. The ashes are smoking still."
Adariel gave an involuntary shudder. Eomer turned his eyes on her. "Do not mock our ways, Sir. You are a guest in this land."
"I meant not to offend, Eomer son of Eomund." Adariel replied, "Just as I am sure you meant no offense when you called me Sir." She threw back her hood and flung the material of her cloak outward and shook her bound hair free. It shone like gold for a second and she took up the slight glow in the eyes of the mortals like one of the High Elven, but it flickered for a second and then faded.
"Lady," Eomer gasped, "I beg your pardon. I see now why your companions were so angered at my slight tongue a while ago. Are you the Lady of the Golden Woods?"
Adariel smirked. "Do not make a fool of yourself, Eomer son of Eomund. She is fairer than I and still resides in Lothlorien. I am only her daughter's daughter."
"My sincere apologies again, Lady. But the curiosity in my heart refuses to burn out and I must ask of you how children came to be in your travels." Eomer said, addressing the latter to Aragorn. But it was Gimli who spoke out, his hand still on the hilt of his ax.
"We do not speak of dwarves or children," said Gimli. "Our friends were hobbits."
"Hobbits?" said Eomer. "And what may they be? It is a strange name to be called by. We have not heard of the race of hobbits."
"A strange name, for a strange folk," agreed Boromir. "But these were very dear to us. It seems that you have heard in Rohan of the words that troubled us in Minas Tirith. They spoke of the Halfling. These hobbits are Halflings."
"Halflings!" scorned the Rider that stood beside Eomer, carrying his spear. "Halflings! But they are only a little people in the old songs and in children's tales out of the North. Do we walk in legends or on the green earth while the sun shines high?"
"A man may do both," said Aragorn. "For not we, but those who come after us will make the legends of our time. The green earth, you say? That is a mighty matter of legend, though you tread it under the light of the sun!"
"Time is pressing on us," said the Rider, ignoring Aragorn's words. "We must hasten south, lord. Leg us leave these wild folk to their fancies. Or let us bind them and take them to the king."
"Peace, Eothain!" said Eomer in his own tongue. "Leave me here a while. Tell the eored to assemble on the path and make ready to ride to the Entwade."
Eothain muttered to himself, but turned his back and spoke to the others. Soon they drew off and left Eomer alone with the five companions.
"All that you say is strange, Aragorn," He said. "Yet I see it is the truth. We of the Mark do not lie, so we are not easily deceived. But you have not told all. Will you not speak more full of your errand so that I may judge on what best to do?"
"I set out from Imladris, as it is named in the rhyme, many weeks ago. With me went the Halflings. Of them, there were four. My errand was to go with Boromir to aid his city in the war against Mordor. Gandalf the Gray was our leader."
"Gandalf!" Eomer exclaimed, "Gandalf Grayhame is know to us, but his name is no longer in favor with the King. He is ever the herald of strange events. A bringer of evil, some now say. Indeed, since his last coming in the summer all things have gone amiss. At that time our troubles with Saruman started. Until he came, we thought of Saruman as a friend to Rohan, but then Gandalf came and warned us that war was surfacing in Isengard. He said that he himself had been a prisoner of Orthanc and had hardly escaped, and he begged for help. But Theoden turned deaf to his please, and he went away, taking the horse that is called Shadowfax, the most precious of Theoden's steeds and chief of the Meeras, which only the Lord of the Mark may ride upon. The sire of their race was the great horse of Eorl that knew the speech of Men. Seven nights ago, Shadowfax returned but was wild and still lets no man handle him."
"Then Shadowfax has found his way from the North alone," said Aragorn; "for it was there that he and Gandalf parted. But alas! Gandalf will ride no longer. He fell into darkness in the Mines of Moria and will walk the earth no more!"
"That is heavy tidings," said Eomer. "At least to me and I suspect to my men as well. But it will be naught to the king. We had come upon a stray mare just now. You may have seen her as we came past for she bore no rider and her coat was matted with dirt. But we men of the Mark have reasonable judgment on these things and she is a great horse, resembling one that had departed this land long ago as a gift paid in return for service."
"We have come on foot from the shadow of Tol Brandir hoping for the rescue of our friends." Aragorn said grimly, musing to himself."
"What? On foot?" cried Eomer.
"Yes, as you see us."
Eomer's eyes widened slightly with wonder. "Strider is too poor a name, son of Arathorn," he said. "Wingfoot, I now name you. This deed of the five friends should be sung in many a hall. Forty leagues and five you have measured and now the fourth day has ended! But now I must take my leave. I return in haste to Theoden. We feel war stirring although we do not openly defy the Black Land. We will not forsake Gondor in there time of need. Our old alliance is not yet forgotten."
"Then you do not pay tribute to Sauron?" said Gimli.
"We do not and we never have," said Eomer firmly with a slight flash in his eyes. "But take care there may be creatures afoot and of them I dare not speak for. Some years ago, the Lord of the Black Land wished to purchase horses from us but we refused and so he set about plundering from our stables with sent Orcs. Our fight against Orcs is bitter. But now our minds turn to Saruman for he is a great deal more craftier that Orcs, and has many guises. Some say that he walks here and there as an old man hooded and cloaked. Very like Gandalf, as many recall. Won't you come to the house of the Lord of the Mark with me and see for yourself?"
"I will come when I may," said Aragorn.
"There is trouble stirring. Scouts warned me of the orc-host coming out of the East Wall three nights ago, and among them they reported that some bore the white badges of Saruman. There may be a league between Orthanc and the Dark Tower, I fear. There was a battle when we overtook the Orcs near the borders of the Entwood. Fifteen of my men were lost and twelve horses also, but victory was ours. We have been too long away. We are needed south and west. Will you not come? There are spare horses as you see. There is work for the swords to do. Yes, and we could find a use for Gimli's ax and the elven bows, if they will pardon my rash words concerning the Lady of the Woods."
Adariel snorted. Up until then she had stayed silent, contemplating things over. Eomer's tidings of Lakewood troubled her in a way that she could not yet make sense of. There was no immediate danger to her knowledge, yet she knew it was there. She caught the last parts of the closing conversation.
"…I will lend you horses, though I ask only this: when your quest is achieved, or is proved vain, return with the horses over the Entwade to Meduseld, the high house in Edoras where Theoden now sits. Thus you shall prove to him that I have not misjudged. In this I place myself, and maybe my very life in the keeping of your good faith. Do not fail."
"I will not." Aragorn answered.
Eomer proceeded to give orders that the spare horses were to be lent to the strangers and there was great wonder among the Riders.
A great dark gray horse was brought to Aragorn and he mounted it. "Hasufel is his name," said Eomer. "May he bear you well and to better fortune than Garulf, his late master!"
A smaller and lighter horse, but restive and fiery was brought to Legolas. Arod was his name, but Legolas asked them to take off the saddle and the rein. "I need them not," he said and leapt lightly up. Arod was tame and willing beneath him, moving here and there with but a spoken word or touch. Such as the elvish way with beasts.
A light gray horse was brought before Boromir and he took it. It was called Redmark and was fierce and snappy. Boromir mustered it by force and leaned his weight on it before he adjusted his seat. The horse danced from side to side, then bucked a little before settling down.
A light brown horse, somewhere between a horse and a pony halted in front of Adariel and swished its tail patiently. "This is Windbourne. He is the gentlest we have but will bare you great speed, such as his breeding."
But Adariel's eyes were not for Windbourne and trained upon the mare with the matted coat, swaying her head wildly and snorting clouds of soot. She had had a growing suspicion in her mind, and it had been confirmed by the tale that Eomer had given them. "I value your loan, but I must insist that Windbourne, great though he is, take the place of the mare that you spoke of."
"Alas, what you ask for I can not give to you." Eomer said gravely. "That mare is what we suspect to be a kindred of Shadowfax, although we cannot be sure. The Lord of the Mark cannot ride upon Shadowfax for he is fierce and untamed but if our suspicions prove true, then this mare will be his replacement."
"But will you not return a found beast to its rightful owner?" Adariel asked innocently.
"What? You claim to own this mare?"
"I do." Confirmed Adariel with a slight nod of her head. The men of the eored had already mounted, and looked at Adariel in scorn from the tops of their mounts. "Do you doubt my word?"
"I do not doubt, but I am reluctant to believe. What proof have you that she is indeed yours? Is it not a case of your word against mine?"
"Then we would have to take the word of the beast itself!" Adariel replied, her amusement was clear at the look on the Riders' faces. It was halfway between scorn and disbelief. The dirt speckled mare that Adariel had recognized as Starliss danced in circles, but coming no closer.
"Starliss, tolo dan heltha anim!" Adariel said in Elvish, and adding a quiet "Breeeeee naa!"
To the wonder of the people present, the strange mare reared up, her eyes wild again and shook herself to rid herself of what dirt she could and trotted to Adariel's side and rounded up beside her. Underneath the dirt, they saw a well-kept coat that shone white. Starliss snorted, but did not speak to Adariel.
"All is as you say!" Eomer said. Even Eothain was silenced, for the Men of the Mark had great respect for the wills of the horses. "Starliss, I have heard you call her. That is the name of the Sister of Shadowfax whom the Lord of the Mark gave to an mysterious stranger who wandered about here many years ago in return for a great favor."
"So you say," Adariel replied as she loosened the saddle and the reins and eased them off, "and so it is." She mounted, and Starliss gave a shudder of relief at finding a familiar weight.
Up until now, Eothain had been silent but he could not keep his indignation any longer and it seeped out through his mouth in the form of harsh words. "It may be well enough for these lords of Gondor, but who has heard of a horse of the Mark being given to a Dwarf?"
"No one," said Gimli. "And do not trouble yourselves. No one will hear of it, least of all myself. I will sooner walk than sit on the back of any beast so great, free or begrudged."
"But you must ride now, or you will hinder us." Aragorn reasoned.
"I would consent to have you sit with me upon Redmark," Boromir added quickly, "But look how he prances! His temper is not kindly and I fear that you will be less well of had you consented to run after us."
Adariel did not feel like riding with Gimli. She wasn't used to riding double, for one, and she also felt a little protective of her mare. It wasn't that she did not trust dwarves, although it was true that she was not very fond of them. Adariel decided it was that she would not feel comfortable having a stranger so close to her physically. Especially one of the opposite sex.
"Come, you shall sit by me, friend Gimli," said Legolas. "Then all will be well and you need neither borrow a horse nor be troubled by one."
A breath of relief came from those on horses, and everybody except Eothain was glad for the solution that had been presented. Guilt echoed in Adariel's heart and she wavered a little and toyed with the thought of volunteering herself for the task, but it was Starliss who decided for her.
"Neeeebbbadddrr gaaalla ammebbrrrrr Eeerree brrememem neeiii." Starliss snorted, her eyes rolling with impatience. "I know what you are thinking, and I beg of you not to."
Gimli was lifted up behind his friend and he clung to him. Not unlike one who cannot swim sitting upon a rocking boat. Legolas did not seem to mind, and swung Arod outward with a slight touch and joined Hasufel and Aragorn. Starliss didn't wait for a motion from Adariel but set off after them on her own accord.
"Farewell, and may you find what you seek!" cried Eomer. "Return with what speed you can and let our swords shine together hereafter!"
"I will come," said Aragorn.
"And I will come too!" added Gimli. "The matter of the Lady Galadriel lies still between us. I have yet to teach you gentle speech."
"But I do not take offense in your words to me," Adariel added as she set off after Boromir. "Let us part as friends!" She ignored Gimli's glare and took no notice of his sputtering rage nor Legolas and Aragorn's amused smiles.
"As friends, then, farewell! And as for you, Master Dwarf, so many things have chanced that to learn the praise of a fair lady under the loving strokes of a Dwarf's ax will seem no great wonder. And I say again to you, Farewell!" Eomer called, and with that, the parted.
The horses were swift and even Arod did not tire of the extra weight of Gimli upon his back. Aragorn rode with his head beside Hasufel's neck, his eyes intent upon the ground. They followed him now, and he said not a word as they hurried onward. Starliss kept up easily, although Adariel could see she was tired. As they rode forward the day was overcast. Low gray clouds came over the sky. A mist shrouded the sun. Ever nearer the tree-clad slopes of Fangorn loomed. They saw no sign of any trail to right or left but here and there they passed single Orcs, fallen in their tracks as they ran with gray feathered arrows sticking in their backs.
At last as the afternoon was ending, they came to the eaves of the forest, and in an open glade among the first trees they found the place of the great burning: the ashes were still hot and smoking. Beside was a great pile of helms and mail, shields, broken swords, bows and darts and other gear of war. Upon a stake in the middle was set a great goblin head and upon its shattered helm the white badge could still be seen. Further away was a newly raised mound and around it were planted fifteen spears: one for each Rider who fell there.
They searched far and wide for signs of the Hobbits but found no trace by nightfall.
"We can do no more," said Gimli sadly. "We have been set many riddles since we came to Tol Brandir, but this is the hardest to unravel. I would guess that the burned bones of the hobbits are now mingled with the Orcs'. It will be hard news for Frodo and Sam if they make their way back from Mordor, and even harder for the old one left in Rivendell. Elrond was against their coming."
"But not Gandalf," said Legolas.
"But Gandalf chose to come himself and he was first to fall," said Gimli. "His foresight has failed him this time."
"Hush!" Adariel bid them," She grew more and more anxious as the drew closer and closer near the Fangorn.
A little way beyond the battle field, they made their camp under a spreading tree: it looked like a chestnut, and yet it still bore many broad brown leaves of a former year, like dry hands with long splayed fingers; they rattled mournfully in the night breeze.
Adariel stood under it and looked up into the think limbs that stood vulnerable in its sorrow. "Sssssellltthha ssooommmeth, Treeela? What ails you, Old/Dear one?"
The tree replied in a gusty voice of its long tale and Adariel listened with her head bowed and her hand upon its trunk, unconsciously running it along the rough bark. "Woe has befallen me and my kind!" the tree started, letting a few brown leaves float off the ends of its dry fingers. "Lakewood and Isengard have both failed us and we stand unable to defend ourselves from the flames. I hear my people cry out and see the darkness that radiates from the forest. I know of you and your journey yet it brings no hope to my roots. The very earth under my feet is tainted and poisoned."
Adariel shook her head. "So it is true? Lakewood has fallen under Saruman?"
"No!" the tree groaned. "Saruman is not strong enough, even for one of disgrace like Eltheran the Betrayer of the Fair Kind. Not he! It was the One in the Land of Fire."
Adariel shivered at the word. She had thought that it was Saruman who would break Eltheran. The Dark Lord on his throne in distant Mordor did not seem like he would want a place like Lakewood. But then again, they were Elves. And that alone was reason enough.
"He came then? But surely Fangorn would have come!"
"No he came not! It was his servants that carried out his bidding, and Fangorn could not come for a terrible screaming and a thick black cloud bound the trees in the forest for many a day and when it cleared, it was too late."
"Too late? Too late for what?" Adariel asked with unchecked anxiousness thickening her voice.
"Too late for them all. The Elderlings are no more." And with that, the tree fell silent again and its limbs creaked mournfully and its fingers rattling in the night breeze.
"Lady Adariel!" she heard someone call and she found Legolas looking at her with a glint of something that resembled worry in his eyes. "You are not well?"
Adariel snatched her hand away from the trunk of the chestnut tree and hastily wiped a tear from her cheek that she had not noticed. "I am just a little saddened by some news that I have received."
"News?" Legolas gave her a look that resembled slight suspicion and wonder; "There are no messengers."
"It is news that the land brings. Do you not feel the change in the air?" Adariel looked up into the naked limbs of the tree again and sighed before turning her gaze to the shadow of the Fangorn and then back to her companions who were discussing something. "I fear for the home that I have resided in," she said and walked past him to join the company. He followed after and caught up as she arrived in their midst.
"…let us light a fire!" Gimli shivered. "I care no longer for danger. Let the Orcs come as thick as summer moths around a candle."
"If those unhappy hobbits are astray in the woods, it might draw them hither," noted Boromir.
"No!" Adariel said sharply as she caught onto the discussion. "There are worse things than Orcs in the forest. We are near the mountain marches of Saruman. We are also on the very edge of the Fangorn, and it is perilous to touch the trees of that wood. The elves in Lakewood gather dead branches that the trees cast off and light it in clearings where it may not offend the children of Fangorn." She had left out the treason of Lakewood, and realized that somewhere in her heart she had hoped it hadn't come to that.
"But the Rohirrim made a great burning here yester-day!" Gimli argued, "and they felled trees for the fire, as can be seen. Yet they passed the night after safely here when their labor was ended."
"There were many of them," Aragorn pointed out, "and they do not heed the wrath of Fangorn, for they seldom come here and they do not go under the trees. But our paths are likely to lead us into the very forest itself. So have a care and cut no living wood!"
"Trees are also very close to my heart," Adariel added for good measure. "As are birds. Mark no scars on my friends in this land!"
"There is no need," said Gimli. "The Riders have left chip and bough enough, and there is dead wood lying plenty." He went off to gather fuel and busied himself with building and kindling a fire; but Aragorn sat silent with his back to the great tree, deep in thought.
Adariel was restless, and the tree spoke no more. Her glance kept sliding to the shadow of the thick trees away in the distance and she paced. She wanted so badly to ride at least to the edge and ask for tidings from the ones who had sheltered her since her memory allowed.
Her only distraction was Legolas, whom she noted to be listening to voices calling from the distance. She had heard them too, but faintly. There was the night breeze that carried the sounds and swishes of the leaves in the canopy, but it was not as strong as it was chilling.
When the Dwarf had a small bright blaze going, they all drew close to it and sat together, shrouding the light with their hooded forms. Adariel found herself tightly squeezed between Legolas and Boromir and felt uncomfortable even as the heat ran its course through her body. She gave a slight push in both directions, hoping that unconsciously they would lean the other way. They didn't.
"Look!" Legolas said. "The tree is glad of the fire!"
Adariel looked and was surprised to see that it appeared to be bending this way and that so as to come above the flames, while the upper branches were stooping low.
"Why do you lean toward the one that you fear?" Adariel asked out loud in the language of the trees. It came out as the slight swish that leaves made when they were rubbing together in the wind. Adariel's eyes narrowed with curiosity.
"When one is beyond hope's reach," the tree answered, "one does not fear."
Before Adariel could look down, she heard a voice say, "That is not the language of the Elves! That is a witch language!"
It was Gimli who had spoken, and he sat to the other side of Aragorn, next to Legolas. Adariel's eyes widened slightly and she cursed at her slip of tongue and the curiosity that had drawn it out. She was about to answer, when Legolas said, "It is the language of the Trees, which few know of. There was one and his name was Beorn but he is far away from here."
"If you are as he says he is," Aragorn said with wonder alight in his eyes, "then your value increases with every passing minute! Why did you not tell us of this earlier?"
"My reasons are my own," Adariel answered.
"Keep them then," Gimli answered tersely, his arms folded in his hooded cloak. "We want none from a witch."
"She is not! Was that not what you said of Lady Galadriel when you had first walked in Lothlorien? And do not scorn so easily her daughter's daughter!" Legolas shot out, and to Adariel it seemed as if Gimli had personally insulted him. She felt slightly surprised, but surprise was nothing toward the gratitude she felt bubbling up from within her. Gratitude, she reasoned, that was not rational.
And in her brooding, she did not see Aragorn's slight smile and Gimli's smirk, nor did she see Boromir's snort or Legolas' slight blush.
After a while, Legolas spoke again. "Celeborn warned us not to go far into Fangorn," he said. "Do you know why, Aragorn? What are the fables that you Men have heard?"
Boromir spoke out. "We have many tales in Gondor, and elsewhere as Aragorn might tell you, but for the words of Celeborn I should deem them only fables that Men have made as true knowledge fades."
"I had thought of asking you the truth of the matter, and if an Elf of this very wood does not know, how shall a Man answer?" Aragorn
There was a slight twinkle in Adariel's eye that faded soon to sadness, and she said, "We Elves all know about the Onodrim, that Men call Ents, dwelt there long ago. The Fangorn is old, even as the Elves would reckon it. The Onodrim are sung about in songs, and I know of their existence in the wood but have yet to meet one. They keep to their own, and are the great guardians to the trees. But that is all I know, for those that dwell in Lakewood seldom travel and none come by our gates."
"Yes, it is old," said Aragorn, "as old as the forest by the Barrow-downs and it is far greater. Elrond says that the two are akin, the last strongholds of the mighty woods of the Eldar Days in which the Firstborn roamed while Men still slept. Yet Fangorn holds some secret of its own. What it is I do not know."
"And I do not wish to know," said Gimli. "Let nothing that dwells in Fangorn be troubled on my account!"
They now drew lots for the watches, and the lot for the first watch fell to Gimli. Adariel waited for sleep to claim them, and it was not long before it laid hold of the others. "Gimli!" said Aragorn drowsily. "Remember, it is perilous to cut bough or twig from a living tree in Fangorn. But do not stray far in search of dead wood. Let the fire die rather! Call me at need!"
Gimli nodded and turned his back for a minute. Adariel crept over to where Aragorn lay. She could see sleep begin to take over him, and saw that his face had smoothed out. She whispered soothingly, almost in lullaby, "I will take a walk before the night claims me as its own. Shall I bring firewood?"
Aragorn grumbled slightly and Adariel could make out "Do not stray far" and "Take no living twig…"
She stood up and nodded to Gimli, who merely shrugged and sat down closer to the fire and gazed out aimlessly down the road that they had come from, his back turned to the forest. Satisfied, she motioned to Starliss, who came prodding lightly on gentle hooves. She trimmed the blackened grass slightly and there was a soft hiss as Adariel mounted and motioned her toward the forest.
To Adariel's surprise, Starliss rolled her eyes in fear and refused to go forward, even when Adariel urged her by digging her knees into her soft, supple belly. The white mare shied back a little, nearly trampling Legolas who lay motionless, his hands folded upon his breast and his eyes unclosed. Adariel stiffened and waited for Starliss to settle down. She was sure that the vibrations on the ground would be enough to wake him up. But it appeared that it didn't.
Adariel let out a sigh of relief, and gently dismounted. Starliss tossed her head in defiance and glared. Adariel didn't ask what the matter was, for the wind carried sound that elven ears would pick up easily. It looked like she would have to walk.
And walk she did. Making sure that Gimli was sufficiently occupied, she told him that she would go to gather more firewood and watch the direction of the Fangorn for him, if he would be so kind as to watch the road. He agreed readily, muttering in a low voice about witches and mysterious forests. He sat hunched by the fire, running his thumb thoughtfully along the edge of his ax.
She headed under the cover of darkness to the shadow of the outer trees of the Fangorn. "Ssssseeeeeth seoffffffthe thhhhhhessssss" she greeted the first tree cautiously. She knew that trees knew no masters, but in the Fangorn where there was great change, she could never be sure.
"You left us a child, but come back as a woman," observed the tree and Adariel was startled to recognize that it was the first tree she had spoken to since she had left, asking it for directions to Rivendell and Mordor. Pines were not known for wisdom so Adariel was surprised by its comment, until she realized that it was an observation. She blushed.
"We have not changed," said a second tree from her left as if sensing her thoughts. "We know no master except for Fangorn himself, and we remember you with kindness." Adariel smiled then, a soft smile that lifted the corners of her mouth slightly and seemed to bring a light out in her face although it was not yet a true smile. She touched her hand to the tree trunks respectfully, and filled the night with soft hisses.
It was near the changing of the watch when she made her way back to the camp. The fire was burning low, and the old chestnut tree had leant further down and its leaves rubbed together, making scratching sounds with their dry flesh.
She had spoken to the trees, who had welcomed her back with showers of leaves. But the news that they had brought with them was grim.
There had been Orcs roaming near Lakewood after she left, they told her, and they grew bolder with each passing day. Sometimes they had ventured into Lakewood itself, although they were always chased away by the elves. But even that had stopped after a while, and still the Orcs advanced. These were Orcs from the Land of the Great Fire.
Then one day Eltheran had met a small band himself, and the Orcs went away for a while, much to the trees' relief. But even they were deceived by Eltheran's manner: the Orcs came back a few nights after, and in greater numbers. They had marched boldly, their dark fingers making scratches on the bark of the trees. And they entered Lakewood, their black amour clanking amongst the purity of the Elderlings that guarded the entrance.
Then the terrible cries of trees burning alive came from within and the smell of smoke twined itself high into the sky. There was a terrible fog of ash that lingered for many days, and a white horse had appeared one day at the edge of the Fangorn and entered, and had gotten lost in the dark smog. By the time the ash cleared it had gotten lost and confused, and then many Orcs had come through. But these Orcs were different from the ones that had taken Lakewood.
And then came the Men on Horses who slew the Orcs and took with them the now blackened mare that had strayed in. The dark ash cloud was fading now, and when the Men left it had become nothing but a dull mist that covered the forest and wove itself as a blanket around the silent trees.
The trees themselves could not see and relied on the voices that traveled to bring them tidings. But in the thick ash cloud there had been no sound, and when it had cleared it revealed to them a sight that they had not seen since Dwarves had roamed freely above the ground.
Around Lakewood where the Elderlings had stood there was but black rings that reached outward. All was silent and there was death that stretched itself outside the gates. Where there had been life, there was now darkness. But not all news she had heard that night had been dreary, and she had been pleasantly surprised to hear of resistance in Lakewood itself, and wondered who was responsible and if there was any way to be in contact with them.
They had also told of the hobbits who had stolen into the wood, and assured her that they had not been captured, as the cloud of ash had not completely cleared yet, and their steps were so light that the trees could not hear them through the haze.
Now, as Adariel walked away from the dark shadow of the Fangorn, she was filled with dread at the path that she suspected that they would have to take through the forest. Something moved from the direction of the forest, and she froze, heart pounding. It was very dark in the shadow of the trees, and she could see the firelight in the distance, flickering. Gimli's back was turned to her.
The slight rustle of grass came again, but then all was silent. Silent? Adariel listened but no sound came, and she suddenly felt reassured. There was no danger nearby, or the trees would have warned her. She turned, trying to place the sound to a memory.
"The dark does not hide you," Adariel said, amused. She tilted her head attentively and waited.
A soft whoosh from somewhere in front of her, and a shape emerged from a shadow. "Alas, I thought it did," the voice said dryly.
Adariel shook her head and sighed. "Why were you following me? I thought you to be sleeping."
"But you forget, Lady Adariel, I had once told you that I did not favor what Men call sleep." Legolas said, stepping into the light.
Adariel grew exasperated. "Yet you do not answer the former of my question!"
"In answer to that," Legolas smiled as he drew closer, "my reasons are my own." He used the words that Adariel had used when asked about her ability to talk to trees.
"You are teasing me, Sir," Adariel frowned, her cheeks flushed with annoyance.
"No!" Adariel was surprised to see that he was genuinely taken aback. "I spoke the truth."
"So you will not tell me?" Adariel asked, trying to figure out if his reason was serious enough to affect her, so she was surprised to see a slight blush touch his face.
"Some day I might, but for now, take the most obvious reason and make do with it."
"The most obvious reason?…of course. You were following me to make sure I did nothing rash. Did Aragorn set you up to this?"
"Nothing out of reason," Legolas corrected her smoothly. "And in a way, yes, I was. Aragorn had no say in the matter."
"You will not tell me more?"
"What does your heart tell you?"
Adariel took that into serious consideration. There was a slight heat in her cheeks that she knew to be blush although she could not comprehend why it was there. The initial flood of fright at the first notion that she was being followed had worn off, but her heart was still beating at twice its normal rate. There was a mix of contentment, nervousness and adrenaline, none of which she should be feeling at all. In conclusion, Adariel noted, her heart was a mess.
"If I knew what my heart was telling me, then I would not be asking you these questions!" Adariel said. She looked closely at him and saw that he was looking directly in her eyes. There was a flicker of something that resembled hope in his face, but then it disappeared as soon as it came.
"Peace, Lady Adariel," he nodded politely. "It is late and there is great danger. You had come to speak to your friends in these woods. What tidings do they bring?"
Adariel shook her head. She was glad for the subject to be diverted from herself, but he puzzled her and she felt curiosity stir within her again. She pushed it down ruthlessly and said, "Only tidings of evil and darkness, I fear." Something else was bothering her, but she couldn't figure out what. It was then she noticed the formality he used. "Do not use titles with me, I am not worthy of most of them," She added.
"Then walk with me, Adariel, and tell me all that you have heard. Titles are of no use on me for I do not answer them. We are equals."
She was touched by his gallantry, as he only knew that she was Elrond's daughter and thought of her as a Princess brought up as a noble and therefor carried only the inferior title of Lady. She agreed to his proposal and he offered his arm politely. She raised her eyebrow and looked around deliberately at their surroundings as if to say "there is no need, look where we are!" but he just looked at her.
She took the arm and they headed off toward camp with Adariel talking in a low voice. None of them took notice of Gimli, sitting hunched by the fire, and when he sprang up suddenly, both were startled. Aragorn and Boromir both sat up at the sudden movement and stared. Legolas pulled Adariel with him and they both made their way swiftly to their companions.
There stood an old bent man, leaning on a staff, and wrapped in a great cloak; his wide brimmed hat was pulled down over his eyes. He did not speak or make any signs.
"Well, father, what can we do for you?" said Aragorn, leaping to his feet. "Come and be warm, if you are cold!" He strode forward, but the old man was gone. There was no trace of him to be found near at hand, though they searched. Adariel offered to go back to the edge of the Fangorn and look but Aragorn refused saying it was too dangerous for any of them to wander that far. For a second, Adariel felt guilt seeping out into her carefully smoothed expression.
The moon had set and the night was very dark.
Suddenly Legolas gave a cry from next to Adariel. "The horses! The horses!"
The horses were gon0eo. They had dragged their pickets and disappeared. For some time the five companions stood still and silent, troubled by this new stroke of ill fortune. They were under the eaves of Fangorn, and endless miles lay between them and the Men of Rohan, their only friends in this wide and dangerous land. As they stood, it seemed to them that they heard, far off in the night, the sound of horses whinnying and neighing. Then all was quiet again, except for the cold rustle of the wind.
"Well they are gone," said Aragorn at last. "We cannot find them or catch them; so that if they do not return of their own will, we must do without. We started on our feet and we have those still."
"Feet!" said Gimli. "But we cannot eat them as well as walk on them." He threw some fuel on the fire and slumped down beside it.
"Even if we did have horses, I would not allow you to eat them!" Adariel said sharply. "But that is not what bothers me most. My mare would not leave me without good reason and I fear for her."
"If you wish to know what I think," Gimli began again, "I think it was Saruman. Who else? Remember the words of Eomer: he who walks about like an old man hooded and cloaked. Those were the very words. He has gone off with our horses, or scared them away and here we are. There is more trouble coming to us, mark my words!"
"I mark them," said Aragorn. "But I marked also that this old man had a hat and not a hood. Still I do not doubt that you guess right and that we are in peril here. Yet in the meantime there is nothing we can do but rest, while we may. I will watch for a while now, Gimli. I have more need of though than of sleep."
Adariel felt a soft nudge in her side. Legolas looked at her pointedly. "Oh!" she said aloud, remembering. "If it were Saruman who came to us tonight, then I have worse tidings still…" and she told them of all that had happened in Lakewood, leaving out nothing except maybe her source of information. But it didn't take long for Aragorn to guess.
"Your news is valuable to us, but you strayed too far for my liking," He said sharply. "I swore to keep you safe and I shall."
"You swore a vow to yourself, and I made no such promise!" Adariel shot back heatedly. "But my anger does not rule my reasoning. What do you make of what I have said?"
"Our friends are deep in Fangorn, and we must save them from a fate worse than death," Aragorn replied. "But the new turn of events will complicate things." Then he turned his eyes to the fire, looking deep inside as if seeing visions that saddened him. "We can only wish for a distraction to occupy Lakewood, but as that is unlikely, we shall just have to be on our guard."
"The eyes and ears of our kin are sharp," warned Legolas. Adariel said nothing. She was still pondering Aragorn's words, and a clumsy plan was formulating. But there was doubt in her heart and anguish. Questions ran through her head as if chased by Sauron himself but she raised her eyes to the faces of every one of her companions whom she had unwillingly grown so close to, and saw that her own doom lay upon her.
"A distraction…" Adariel muttered. She agreed to take the last watch after Gimli and made a point to bid goodnight to everyone who sat around the fire, even Boromir. They were surprised, but not suspicious. When her watch came and she was roused roughly by a hand shaking her, she bade the chestnut tree to keep all who slept under its falling leaves safe, and was gone.
In the morning, Gimli, Aragorn and Boromir awoke to a started cry from Legolas who had worry written in every graceful curve of his face, and his first words to them were simple and the determination behind them terrifying.
"She's gone."
1.1 End of Chapter 12
Reviews please! NO FLAMES but constructive criticism is very welcome! –Spirit Star
Sorry for the delay:( I have school starting again and I had to get all my stationary, etc. etc. etc.
Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews! I'm trying to figure out how to balance school and writing which is not easy here in my house. I have extremely strict parents, I should add…lucky me.
Echoes of the Narbeleth
Spirit Star
Chapter 12: In which the shade of doubt darkens
There came a great rippling of muscle and a large clanking of armor as row by row, the horses reared as their riders turned them sharply. Like the rippling of grass, swift and soft, the Riders circled around them. Their spears were drawn downward and aimed at their hearts. Adariel fought the impulse to reach for her arrows.
Aragorn stood silent and the others were left with lingering thoughts about how things would turn out. The Riders drew inward and came closer. The circle tightened. Without a spoken word, they suddenly halted. The points of arrows shone along with the spear blades. One rode forward. He was the tallest one and his horse was proud and prancing. Still he advanced until his spear was within a foot of Aragorn's breast. Still, he did not stir.
"Who are you, and what are you doing in this land?" said the Rider, using the Common Speech of the West but in a tone not unlike Boromir's. Adariel saw Boromir snort a little.
"I am called Strider," answered Aragorn calmly. "I came out of the North and I am hunting a band of Orcs."
The Rider leaped from his horse. The horse pranced backwards, eyes rolling. Giving his spear to another who rode up and dismounted at his side, he drew his sword and stood face to face with Aragorn, surveying him keenly. The blade flashed white. Adariel closed her eyes and held her breath in the shadow of her hood. She was tense, and put all her concentration in her ears. But no clashing of metal came. It was the Rider who spoke again.
"When you called out, I thought that you were Orcs yourselves. But you know little of Orcs if you hunt them in this way. They are swift, well armed and they travel in large groups. You would have been slaughtered if you had caught up with them. But there is something strange about you, Strider. That is no name for a Man that you give, even one from the North. And you are clad in strange clothing. Have you sprung from the ground? If you had not, then we would surely have sighted you as we rode past. Are you elvish folk?"
"No," Aragorn said. "Only two of us are amongst their number, but we have passed through the Golden Woods of Lothlorien and the gifts and the favor of the Lady go with us."
The Rider looked at them with renewed wonder, but his eyes became dim and his face became grim. "Then there is indeed a Lady in the Golden Wood, as the old stories tell!" he said. "Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favor, then you are also net weavers and sorcerers, maybe. You bring strangeness in your stride." He turned and threw a cold glance at the rest of them. "Why do you not speak? Have you no tongue that we may understand?"
Before the rest of them could say anything, Boromir stepped forward with anger laced in his voice. "Speak again, Rider of the West, and the brothership between Gondor and Rohan may end here."
"We know of you, Boromir son of Denethor," the Rider said, his eyes on Boromir. "Peace then, we wish no conflict upon you. But what of your companions?"
Gimli rose and planted his feet firmly apart: his hand gripped the handle of his ax and his dark eyes flashed. "You dare insult the Lady of the Woods? Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine. And more." He jerked his ax menacingly.
"As for that," said the Rider, staring down at the Dwarf, "the stranger should declare himself first. But I shall humor you. I am Eomer, son of Eomund, and am called the Third Marshal of the Riddermark."
"Then, Eomer son of Eomund, I am Gimli son of Dwarf Gloin. You speak with foolishness of the evil that is fair beyond your thought. Your only excuse is little wit, and I pardon you for it."
Eomer's eyes flashed and the Men of Rohan muttered angrily, spears and arrows pointed closer. Eomer raised his sword. "I would cut off your heard, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it were a little higher from the ground."
"He stands not alone," said Legolas, bending his bow and fitting an arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight. "You would die before your stroke fell."
"If it weren't for the peace between Gondor and Rohan, know that I would join him." Boromir added, shifting his hand to his hilt, then dropping it back to his side again. The Riders of Rohan advanced again.
Things would have gone ill, but Aragorn sprang between them and raised his hand. "Your pardon, Eomer!" he cried. "When you know more you will understand why you have angered my companions so. We intend no evil to Rohan, nor to any of its folk, neither to man nor to horse. Will you not hear our tale before you strike?"
"That, I will agree to do," Eomer said, lowering his blade. "But wanderers in Riddermark would do well to be less haughty in these dark days. And there is one who has not yet spoken." He said the first part of the speech with a glare at Gimli and Legolas, but then turned his eyes to Adariel, whose hood was still up.
"Well? Speak, stranger, but take heed what you say!" Eomer cried. All eyes turned on Adariel.
"I have naught to say," she said finally. Where everybody else had thrown back their hoods, Adariel's still hid her face from view.
"Then," Eomer said, "you are different from your companions. Now, Strider, first tell me your right name before you continue with your tale."
"I will that, if you tell me whom you serve," said Aragorn. "Are you friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?"
"I serve only the Lord of the Mark, Theoden King son of Thengel," answered Eomer. "We do not serve the Power of the Black Land far away, but neither are we yet at open war with him. If you are fleeing from him you had better leave this land. There is trouble now on all our borders and we are threatened. But we desire only to be free and to live as we have lived, keeping our own, and serving no foreign lord, good or evil. We welcome guests kindly in better days but in these times the unbidden stranger finds us to be hard in our judgment. Come! Who are you? Whom do YOU serve? At whose command do you hunt Orcs in our land that we keep guarded?"
"I serve no man," Aragorn said. "But the servants of Sauron I pursue into whatever land they may go. There are few among mortal Men who know more of Orcs; and I do not hunt them in this fashion out of choice. The Orcs whom we pursued took captive two of my friends. Even as I am without a horse, I go on foot. I am not weaponless."
Aragorn threw back his cloak. The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Anduril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. "Elendil!" he cried. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the hair of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!"
They looked at him. All of them. Adariel was surprised at his sudden change in stature and she could tell that none of her companions had seen him in this mood before. Eomer seemed to have shrunk even as Aragorn was speaking. There was a flame that flickered in his eyes and a brief vision of majestic power that shone. For a moment it seemed in Adariel's eyes that a white flame flickered on the brows of Aragorn like a shining crown, and she stepped back.
Eomer stepped back too, with a look of awe on his face. He cast down his proud eyes. "These are strange days indeed," he said, "Dreams and legend spring to life out of the very grass that we have nurtured. Tell me, lord, what brings you here? And what was the meaning of the dark words? What doom do you bring out of the North?"
"The doom of choice," said Aragorn. "You may say this to Theoden son of Thengel: open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. None may live now as they have lived. Few shall keep what they call their own. If chance allows, I will come to the king myself. Now I am in great need, and I ask for your aid, and if you cannot give that, at least give us your tidings. You heard that we are pursuing an orc-host that carried off our friends. What can you tell us?"
"And," Adariel spoke up, "what news have you of Lakewood in the Fangorn?"
"Ah," Eomer said. "So the Silent One speaks at last and we may learn more of him. Lakewood is a place we dare not speak of. Rumors arise that it has fallen under a great shadow but our folk are not one to mix with Elves and we go about our ways. Still, if we avoided the Fangorn in the days of peace, we avoid it more so now. As for the Orcs, they are destroyed."
"And our friends?"
"We slew none but Orcs, likewise, we found none but Orcs."
"But that is strange indeed," Aragorn frowned. "Did you search the slain? Were there no bodies other than those of the orc kind? They would be small, childlike to your eyes but in gray."
"We found no Dwarves or children," said Eomer. "We counted all the slain we burnt their bodies as is our custom. The ashes are smoking still."
Adariel gave an involuntary shudder. Eomer turned his eyes on her. "Do not mock our ways, Sir. You are a guest in this land."
"I meant not to offend, Eomer son of Eomund." Adariel replied, "Just as I am sure you meant no offense when you called me Sir." She threw back her hood and flung the material of her cloak outward and shook her bound hair free. It shone like gold for a second and she took up the slight glow in the eyes of the mortals like one of the High Elven, but it flickered for a second and then faded.
"Lady," Eomer gasped, "I beg your pardon. I see now why your companions were so angered at my slight tongue a while ago. Are you the Lady of the Golden Woods?"
Adariel smirked. "Do not make a fool of yourself, Eomer son of Eomund. She is fairer than I and still resides in Lothlorien. I am only her daughter's daughter."
"My sincere apologies again, Lady. But the curiosity in my heart refuses to burn out and I must ask of you how children came to be in your travels." Eomer said, addressing the latter to Aragorn. But it was Gimli who spoke out, his hand still on the hilt of his ax.
"We do not speak of dwarves or children," said Gimli. "Our friends were hobbits."
"Hobbits?" said Eomer. "And what may they be? It is a strange name to be called by. We have not heard of the race of hobbits."
"A strange name, for a strange folk," agreed Boromir. "But these were very dear to us. It seems that you have heard in Rohan of the words that troubled us in Minas Tirith. They spoke of the Halfling. These hobbits are Halflings."
"Halflings!" scorned the Rider that stood beside Eomer, carrying his spear. "Halflings! But they are only a little people in the old songs and in children's tales out of the North. Do we walk in legends or on the green earth while the sun shines high?"
"A man may do both," said Aragorn. "For not we, but those who come after us will make the legends of our time. The green earth, you say? That is a mighty matter of legend, though you tread it under the light of the sun!"
"Time is pressing on us," said the Rider, ignoring Aragorn's words. "We must hasten south, lord. Leg us leave these wild folk to their fancies. Or let us bind them and take them to the king."
"Peace, Eothain!" said Eomer in his own tongue. "Leave me here a while. Tell the eored to assemble on the path and make ready to ride to the Entwade."
Eothain muttered to himself, but turned his back and spoke to the others. Soon they drew off and left Eomer alone with the five companions.
"All that you say is strange, Aragorn," He said. "Yet I see it is the truth. We of the Mark do not lie, so we are not easily deceived. But you have not told all. Will you not speak more full of your errand so that I may judge on what best to do?"
"I set out from Imladris, as it is named in the rhyme, many weeks ago. With me went the Halflings. Of them, there were four. My errand was to go with Boromir to aid his city in the war against Mordor. Gandalf the Gray was our leader."
"Gandalf!" Eomer exclaimed, "Gandalf Grayhame is know to us, but his name is no longer in favor with the King. He is ever the herald of strange events. A bringer of evil, some now say. Indeed, since his last coming in the summer all things have gone amiss. At that time our troubles with Saruman started. Until he came, we thought of Saruman as a friend to Rohan, but then Gandalf came and warned us that war was surfacing in Isengard. He said that he himself had been a prisoner of Orthanc and had hardly escaped, and he begged for help. But Theoden turned deaf to his please, and he went away, taking the horse that is called Shadowfax, the most precious of Theoden's steeds and chief of the Meeras, which only the Lord of the Mark may ride upon. The sire of their race was the great horse of Eorl that knew the speech of Men. Seven nights ago, Shadowfax returned but was wild and still lets no man handle him."
"Then Shadowfax has found his way from the North alone," said Aragorn; "for it was there that he and Gandalf parted. But alas! Gandalf will ride no longer. He fell into darkness in the Mines of Moria and will walk the earth no more!"
"That is heavy tidings," said Eomer. "At least to me and I suspect to my men as well. But it will be naught to the king. We had come upon a stray mare just now. You may have seen her as we came past for she bore no rider and her coat was matted with dirt. But we men of the Mark have reasonable judgment on these things and she is a great horse, resembling one that had departed this land long ago as a gift paid in return for service."
"We have come on foot from the shadow of Tol Brandir hoping for the rescue of our friends." Aragorn said grimly, musing to himself."
"What? On foot?" cried Eomer.
"Yes, as you see us."
Eomer's eyes widened slightly with wonder. "Strider is too poor a name, son of Arathorn," he said. "Wingfoot, I now name you. This deed of the five friends should be sung in many a hall. Forty leagues and five you have measured and now the fourth day has ended! But now I must take my leave. I return in haste to Theoden. We feel war stirring although we do not openly defy the Black Land. We will not forsake Gondor in there time of need. Our old alliance is not yet forgotten."
"Then you do not pay tribute to Sauron?" said Gimli.
"We do not and we never have," said Eomer firmly with a slight flash in his eyes. "But take care there may be creatures afoot and of them I dare not speak for. Some years ago, the Lord of the Black Land wished to purchase horses from us but we refused and so he set about plundering from our stables with sent Orcs. Our fight against Orcs is bitter. But now our minds turn to Saruman for he is a great deal more craftier that Orcs, and has many guises. Some say that he walks here and there as an old man hooded and cloaked. Very like Gandalf, as many recall. Won't you come to the house of the Lord of the Mark with me and see for yourself?"
"I will come when I may," said Aragorn.
"There is trouble stirring. Scouts warned me of the orc-host coming out of the East Wall three nights ago, and among them they reported that some bore the white badges of Saruman. There may be a league between Orthanc and the Dark Tower, I fear. There was a battle when we overtook the Orcs near the borders of the Entwood. Fifteen of my men were lost and twelve horses also, but victory was ours. We have been too long away. We are needed south and west. Will you not come? There are spare horses as you see. There is work for the swords to do. Yes, and we could find a use for Gimli's ax and the elven bows, if they will pardon my rash words concerning the Lady of the Woods."
Adariel snorted. Up until then she had stayed silent, contemplating things over. Eomer's tidings of Lakewood troubled her in a way that she could not yet make sense of. There was no immediate danger to her knowledge, yet she knew it was there. She caught the last parts of the closing conversation.
"…I will lend you horses, though I ask only this: when your quest is achieved, or is proved vain, return with the horses over the Entwade to Meduseld, the high house in Edoras where Theoden now sits. Thus you shall prove to him that I have not misjudged. In this I place myself, and maybe my very life in the keeping of your good faith. Do not fail."
"I will not." Aragorn answered.
Eomer proceeded to give orders that the spare horses were to be lent to the strangers and there was great wonder among the Riders.
A great dark gray horse was brought to Aragorn and he mounted it. "Hasufel is his name," said Eomer. "May he bear you well and to better fortune than Garulf, his late master!"
A smaller and lighter horse, but restive and fiery was brought to Legolas. Arod was his name, but Legolas asked them to take off the saddle and the rein. "I need them not," he said and leapt lightly up. Arod was tame and willing beneath him, moving here and there with but a spoken word or touch. Such as the elvish way with beasts.
A light gray horse was brought before Boromir and he took it. It was called Redmark and was fierce and snappy. Boromir mustered it by force and leaned his weight on it before he adjusted his seat. The horse danced from side to side, then bucked a little before settling down.
A light brown horse, somewhere between a horse and a pony halted in front of Adariel and swished its tail patiently. "This is Windbourne. He is the gentlest we have but will bare you great speed, such as his breeding."
But Adariel's eyes were not for Windbourne and trained upon the mare with the matted coat, swaying her head wildly and snorting clouds of soot. She had had a growing suspicion in her mind, and it had been confirmed by the tale that Eomer had given them. "I value your loan, but I must insist that Windbourne, great though he is, take the place of the mare that you spoke of."
"Alas, what you ask for I can not give to you." Eomer said gravely. "That mare is what we suspect to be a kindred of Shadowfax, although we cannot be sure. The Lord of the Mark cannot ride upon Shadowfax for he is fierce and untamed but if our suspicions prove true, then this mare will be his replacement."
"But will you not return a found beast to its rightful owner?" Adariel asked innocently.
"What? You claim to own this mare?"
"I do." Confirmed Adariel with a slight nod of her head. The men of the eored had already mounted, and looked at Adariel in scorn from the tops of their mounts. "Do you doubt my word?"
"I do not doubt, but I am reluctant to believe. What proof have you that she is indeed yours? Is it not a case of your word against mine?"
"Then we would have to take the word of the beast itself!" Adariel replied, her amusement was clear at the look on the Riders' faces. It was halfway between scorn and disbelief. The dirt speckled mare that Adariel had recognized as Starliss danced in circles, but coming no closer.
"Starliss, tolo dan heltha anim!" Adariel said in Elvish, and adding a quiet "Breeeeee naa!"
To the wonder of the people present, the strange mare reared up, her eyes wild again and shook herself to rid herself of what dirt she could and trotted to Adariel's side and rounded up beside her. Underneath the dirt, they saw a well-kept coat that shone white. Starliss snorted, but did not speak to Adariel.
"All is as you say!" Eomer said. Even Eothain was silenced, for the Men of the Mark had great respect for the wills of the horses. "Starliss, I have heard you call her. That is the name of the Sister of Shadowfax whom the Lord of the Mark gave to an mysterious stranger who wandered about here many years ago in return for a great favor."
"So you say," Adariel replied as she loosened the saddle and the reins and eased them off, "and so it is." She mounted, and Starliss gave a shudder of relief at finding a familiar weight.
Up until now, Eothain had been silent but he could not keep his indignation any longer and it seeped out through his mouth in the form of harsh words. "It may be well enough for these lords of Gondor, but who has heard of a horse of the Mark being given to a Dwarf?"
"No one," said Gimli. "And do not trouble yourselves. No one will hear of it, least of all myself. I will sooner walk than sit on the back of any beast so great, free or begrudged."
"But you must ride now, or you will hinder us." Aragorn reasoned.
"I would consent to have you sit with me upon Redmark," Boromir added quickly, "But look how he prances! His temper is not kindly and I fear that you will be less well of had you consented to run after us."
Adariel did not feel like riding with Gimli. She wasn't used to riding double, for one, and she also felt a little protective of her mare. It wasn't that she did not trust dwarves, although it was true that she was not very fond of them. Adariel decided it was that she would not feel comfortable having a stranger so close to her physically. Especially one of the opposite sex.
"Come, you shall sit by me, friend Gimli," said Legolas. "Then all will be well and you need neither borrow a horse nor be troubled by one."
A breath of relief came from those on horses, and everybody except Eothain was glad for the solution that had been presented. Guilt echoed in Adariel's heart and she wavered a little and toyed with the thought of volunteering herself for the task, but it was Starliss who decided for her.
"Neeeebbbadddrr gaaalla ammebbrrrrr Eeerree brrememem neeiii." Starliss snorted, her eyes rolling with impatience. "I know what you are thinking, and I beg of you not to."
Gimli was lifted up behind his friend and he clung to him. Not unlike one who cannot swim sitting upon a rocking boat. Legolas did not seem to mind, and swung Arod outward with a slight touch and joined Hasufel and Aragorn. Starliss didn't wait for a motion from Adariel but set off after them on her own accord.
"Farewell, and may you find what you seek!" cried Eomer. "Return with what speed you can and let our swords shine together hereafter!"
"I will come," said Aragorn.
"And I will come too!" added Gimli. "The matter of the Lady Galadriel lies still between us. I have yet to teach you gentle speech."
"But I do not take offense in your words to me," Adariel added as she set off after Boromir. "Let us part as friends!" She ignored Gimli's glare and took no notice of his sputtering rage nor Legolas and Aragorn's amused smiles.
"As friends, then, farewell! And as for you, Master Dwarf, so many things have chanced that to learn the praise of a fair lady under the loving strokes of a Dwarf's ax will seem no great wonder. And I say again to you, Farewell!" Eomer called, and with that, the parted.
The horses were swift and even Arod did not tire of the extra weight of Gimli upon his back. Aragorn rode with his head beside Hasufel's neck, his eyes intent upon the ground. They followed him now, and he said not a word as they hurried onward. Starliss kept up easily, although Adariel could see she was tired. As they rode forward the day was overcast. Low gray clouds came over the sky. A mist shrouded the sun. Ever nearer the tree-clad slopes of Fangorn loomed. They saw no sign of any trail to right or left but here and there they passed single Orcs, fallen in their tracks as they ran with gray feathered arrows sticking in their backs.
At last as the afternoon was ending, they came to the eaves of the forest, and in an open glade among the first trees they found the place of the great burning: the ashes were still hot and smoking. Beside was a great pile of helms and mail, shields, broken swords, bows and darts and other gear of war. Upon a stake in the middle was set a great goblin head and upon its shattered helm the white badge could still be seen. Further away was a newly raised mound and around it were planted fifteen spears: one for each Rider who fell there.
They searched far and wide for signs of the Hobbits but found no trace by nightfall.
"We can do no more," said Gimli sadly. "We have been set many riddles since we came to Tol Brandir, but this is the hardest to unravel. I would guess that the burned bones of the hobbits are now mingled with the Orcs'. It will be hard news for Frodo and Sam if they make their way back from Mordor, and even harder for the old one left in Rivendell. Elrond was against their coming."
"But not Gandalf," said Legolas.
"But Gandalf chose to come himself and he was first to fall," said Gimli. "His foresight has failed him this time."
"Hush!" Adariel bid them," She grew more and more anxious as the drew closer and closer near the Fangorn.
A little way beyond the battle field, they made their camp under a spreading tree: it looked like a chestnut, and yet it still bore many broad brown leaves of a former year, like dry hands with long splayed fingers; they rattled mournfully in the night breeze.
Adariel stood under it and looked up into the think limbs that stood vulnerable in its sorrow. "Sssssellltthha ssooommmeth, Treeela? What ails you, Old/Dear one?"
The tree replied in a gusty voice of its long tale and Adariel listened with her head bowed and her hand upon its trunk, unconsciously running it along the rough bark. "Woe has befallen me and my kind!" the tree started, letting a few brown leaves float off the ends of its dry fingers. "Lakewood and Isengard have both failed us and we stand unable to defend ourselves from the flames. I hear my people cry out and see the darkness that radiates from the forest. I know of you and your journey yet it brings no hope to my roots. The very earth under my feet is tainted and poisoned."
Adariel shook her head. "So it is true? Lakewood has fallen under Saruman?"
"No!" the tree groaned. "Saruman is not strong enough, even for one of disgrace like Eltheran the Betrayer of the Fair Kind. Not he! It was the One in the Land of Fire."
Adariel shivered at the word. She had thought that it was Saruman who would break Eltheran. The Dark Lord on his throne in distant Mordor did not seem like he would want a place like Lakewood. But then again, they were Elves. And that alone was reason enough.
"He came then? But surely Fangorn would have come!"
"No he came not! It was his servants that carried out his bidding, and Fangorn could not come for a terrible screaming and a thick black cloud bound the trees in the forest for many a day and when it cleared, it was too late."
"Too late? Too late for what?" Adariel asked with unchecked anxiousness thickening her voice.
"Too late for them all. The Elderlings are no more." And with that, the tree fell silent again and its limbs creaked mournfully and its fingers rattling in the night breeze.
"Lady Adariel!" she heard someone call and she found Legolas looking at her with a glint of something that resembled worry in his eyes. "You are not well?"
Adariel snatched her hand away from the trunk of the chestnut tree and hastily wiped a tear from her cheek that she had not noticed. "I am just a little saddened by some news that I have received."
"News?" Legolas gave her a look that resembled slight suspicion and wonder; "There are no messengers."
"It is news that the land brings. Do you not feel the change in the air?" Adariel looked up into the naked limbs of the tree again and sighed before turning her gaze to the shadow of the Fangorn and then back to her companions who were discussing something. "I fear for the home that I have resided in," she said and walked past him to join the company. He followed after and caught up as she arrived in their midst.
"…let us light a fire!" Gimli shivered. "I care no longer for danger. Let the Orcs come as thick as summer moths around a candle."
"If those unhappy hobbits are astray in the woods, it might draw them hither," noted Boromir.
"No!" Adariel said sharply as she caught onto the discussion. "There are worse things than Orcs in the forest. We are near the mountain marches of Saruman. We are also on the very edge of the Fangorn, and it is perilous to touch the trees of that wood. The elves in Lakewood gather dead branches that the trees cast off and light it in clearings where it may not offend the children of Fangorn." She had left out the treason of Lakewood, and realized that somewhere in her heart she had hoped it hadn't come to that.
"But the Rohirrim made a great burning here yester-day!" Gimli argued, "and they felled trees for the fire, as can be seen. Yet they passed the night after safely here when their labor was ended."
"There were many of them," Aragorn pointed out, "and they do not heed the wrath of Fangorn, for they seldom come here and they do not go under the trees. But our paths are likely to lead us into the very forest itself. So have a care and cut no living wood!"
"Trees are also very close to my heart," Adariel added for good measure. "As are birds. Mark no scars on my friends in this land!"
"There is no need," said Gimli. "The Riders have left chip and bough enough, and there is dead wood lying plenty." He went off to gather fuel and busied himself with building and kindling a fire; but Aragorn sat silent with his back to the great tree, deep in thought.
Adariel was restless, and the tree spoke no more. Her glance kept sliding to the shadow of the thick trees away in the distance and she paced. She wanted so badly to ride at least to the edge and ask for tidings from the ones who had sheltered her since her memory allowed.
Her only distraction was Legolas, whom she noted to be listening to voices calling from the distance. She had heard them too, but faintly. There was the night breeze that carried the sounds and swishes of the leaves in the canopy, but it was not as strong as it was chilling.
When the Dwarf had a small bright blaze going, they all drew close to it and sat together, shrouding the light with their hooded forms. Adariel found herself tightly squeezed between Legolas and Boromir and felt uncomfortable even as the heat ran its course through her body. She gave a slight push in both directions, hoping that unconsciously they would lean the other way. They didn't.
"Look!" Legolas said. "The tree is glad of the fire!"
Adariel looked and was surprised to see that it appeared to be bending this way and that so as to come above the flames, while the upper branches were stooping low.
"Why do you lean toward the one that you fear?" Adariel asked out loud in the language of the trees. It came out as the slight swish that leaves made when they were rubbing together in the wind. Adariel's eyes narrowed with curiosity.
"When one is beyond hope's reach," the tree answered, "one does not fear."
Before Adariel could look down, she heard a voice say, "That is not the language of the Elves! That is a witch language!"
It was Gimli who had spoken, and he sat to the other side of Aragorn, next to Legolas. Adariel's eyes widened slightly and she cursed at her slip of tongue and the curiosity that had drawn it out. She was about to answer, when Legolas said, "It is the language of the Trees, which few know of. There was one and his name was Beorn but he is far away from here."
"If you are as he says he is," Aragorn said with wonder alight in his eyes, "then your value increases with every passing minute! Why did you not tell us of this earlier?"
"My reasons are my own," Adariel answered.
"Keep them then," Gimli answered tersely, his arms folded in his hooded cloak. "We want none from a witch."
"She is not! Was that not what you said of Lady Galadriel when you had first walked in Lothlorien? And do not scorn so easily her daughter's daughter!" Legolas shot out, and to Adariel it seemed as if Gimli had personally insulted him. She felt slightly surprised, but surprise was nothing toward the gratitude she felt bubbling up from within her. Gratitude, she reasoned, that was not rational.
And in her brooding, she did not see Aragorn's slight smile and Gimli's smirk, nor did she see Boromir's snort or Legolas' slight blush.
After a while, Legolas spoke again. "Celeborn warned us not to go far into Fangorn," he said. "Do you know why, Aragorn? What are the fables that you Men have heard?"
Boromir spoke out. "We have many tales in Gondor, and elsewhere as Aragorn might tell you, but for the words of Celeborn I should deem them only fables that Men have made as true knowledge fades."
"I had thought of asking you the truth of the matter, and if an Elf of this very wood does not know, how shall a Man answer?" Aragorn
There was a slight twinkle in Adariel's eye that faded soon to sadness, and she said, "We Elves all know about the Onodrim, that Men call Ents, dwelt there long ago. The Fangorn is old, even as the Elves would reckon it. The Onodrim are sung about in songs, and I know of their existence in the wood but have yet to meet one. They keep to their own, and are the great guardians to the trees. But that is all I know, for those that dwell in Lakewood seldom travel and none come by our gates."
"Yes, it is old," said Aragorn, "as old as the forest by the Barrow-downs and it is far greater. Elrond says that the two are akin, the last strongholds of the mighty woods of the Eldar Days in which the Firstborn roamed while Men still slept. Yet Fangorn holds some secret of its own. What it is I do not know."
"And I do not wish to know," said Gimli. "Let nothing that dwells in Fangorn be troubled on my account!"
They now drew lots for the watches, and the lot for the first watch fell to Gimli. Adariel waited for sleep to claim them, and it was not long before it laid hold of the others. "Gimli!" said Aragorn drowsily. "Remember, it is perilous to cut bough or twig from a living tree in Fangorn. But do not stray far in search of dead wood. Let the fire die rather! Call me at need!"
Gimli nodded and turned his back for a minute. Adariel crept over to where Aragorn lay. She could see sleep begin to take over him, and saw that his face had smoothed out. She whispered soothingly, almost in lullaby, "I will take a walk before the night claims me as its own. Shall I bring firewood?"
Aragorn grumbled slightly and Adariel could make out "Do not stray far" and "Take no living twig…"
She stood up and nodded to Gimli, who merely shrugged and sat down closer to the fire and gazed out aimlessly down the road that they had come from, his back turned to the forest. Satisfied, she motioned to Starliss, who came prodding lightly on gentle hooves. She trimmed the blackened grass slightly and there was a soft hiss as Adariel mounted and motioned her toward the forest.
To Adariel's surprise, Starliss rolled her eyes in fear and refused to go forward, even when Adariel urged her by digging her knees into her soft, supple belly. The white mare shied back a little, nearly trampling Legolas who lay motionless, his hands folded upon his breast and his eyes unclosed. Adariel stiffened and waited for Starliss to settle down. She was sure that the vibrations on the ground would be enough to wake him up. But it appeared that it didn't.
Adariel let out a sigh of relief, and gently dismounted. Starliss tossed her head in defiance and glared. Adariel didn't ask what the matter was, for the wind carried sound that elven ears would pick up easily. It looked like she would have to walk.
And walk she did. Making sure that Gimli was sufficiently occupied, she told him that she would go to gather more firewood and watch the direction of the Fangorn for him, if he would be so kind as to watch the road. He agreed readily, muttering in a low voice about witches and mysterious forests. He sat hunched by the fire, running his thumb thoughtfully along the edge of his ax.
She headed under the cover of darkness to the shadow of the outer trees of the Fangorn. "Ssssseeeeeth seoffffffthe thhhhhhessssss" she greeted the first tree cautiously. She knew that trees knew no masters, but in the Fangorn where there was great change, she could never be sure.
"You left us a child, but come back as a woman," observed the tree and Adariel was startled to recognize that it was the first tree she had spoken to since she had left, asking it for directions to Rivendell and Mordor. Pines were not known for wisdom so Adariel was surprised by its comment, until she realized that it was an observation. She blushed.
"We have not changed," said a second tree from her left as if sensing her thoughts. "We know no master except for Fangorn himself, and we remember you with kindness." Adariel smiled then, a soft smile that lifted the corners of her mouth slightly and seemed to bring a light out in her face although it was not yet a true smile. She touched her hand to the tree trunks respectfully, and filled the night with soft hisses.
It was near the changing of the watch when she made her way back to the camp. The fire was burning low, and the old chestnut tree had leant further down and its leaves rubbed together, making scratching sounds with their dry flesh.
She had spoken to the trees, who had welcomed her back with showers of leaves. But the news that they had brought with them was grim.
There had been Orcs roaming near Lakewood after she left, they told her, and they grew bolder with each passing day. Sometimes they had ventured into Lakewood itself, although they were always chased away by the elves. But even that had stopped after a while, and still the Orcs advanced. These were Orcs from the Land of the Great Fire.
Then one day Eltheran had met a small band himself, and the Orcs went away for a while, much to the trees' relief. But even they were deceived by Eltheran's manner: the Orcs came back a few nights after, and in greater numbers. They had marched boldly, their dark fingers making scratches on the bark of the trees. And they entered Lakewood, their black amour clanking amongst the purity of the Elderlings that guarded the entrance.
Then the terrible cries of trees burning alive came from within and the smell of smoke twined itself high into the sky. There was a terrible fog of ash that lingered for many days, and a white horse had appeared one day at the edge of the Fangorn and entered, and had gotten lost in the dark smog. By the time the ash cleared it had gotten lost and confused, and then many Orcs had come through. But these Orcs were different from the ones that had taken Lakewood.
And then came the Men on Horses who slew the Orcs and took with them the now blackened mare that had strayed in. The dark ash cloud was fading now, and when the Men left it had become nothing but a dull mist that covered the forest and wove itself as a blanket around the silent trees.
The trees themselves could not see and relied on the voices that traveled to bring them tidings. But in the thick ash cloud there had been no sound, and when it had cleared it revealed to them a sight that they had not seen since Dwarves had roamed freely above the ground.
Around Lakewood where the Elderlings had stood there was but black rings that reached outward. All was silent and there was death that stretched itself outside the gates. Where there had been life, there was now darkness. But not all news she had heard that night had been dreary, and she had been pleasantly surprised to hear of resistance in Lakewood itself, and wondered who was responsible and if there was any way to be in contact with them.
They had also told of the hobbits who had stolen into the wood, and assured her that they had not been captured, as the cloud of ash had not completely cleared yet, and their steps were so light that the trees could not hear them through the haze.
Now, as Adariel walked away from the dark shadow of the Fangorn, she was filled with dread at the path that she suspected that they would have to take through the forest. Something moved from the direction of the forest, and she froze, heart pounding. It was very dark in the shadow of the trees, and she could see the firelight in the distance, flickering. Gimli's back was turned to her.
The slight rustle of grass came again, but then all was silent. Silent? Adariel listened but no sound came, and she suddenly felt reassured. There was no danger nearby, or the trees would have warned her. She turned, trying to place the sound to a memory.
"The dark does not hide you," Adariel said, amused. She tilted her head attentively and waited.
A soft whoosh from somewhere in front of her, and a shape emerged from a shadow. "Alas, I thought it did," the voice said dryly.
Adariel shook her head and sighed. "Why were you following me? I thought you to be sleeping."
"But you forget, Lady Adariel, I had once told you that I did not favor what Men call sleep." Legolas said, stepping into the light.
Adariel grew exasperated. "Yet you do not answer the former of my question!"
"In answer to that," Legolas smiled as he drew closer, "my reasons are my own." He used the words that Adariel had used when asked about her ability to talk to trees.
"You are teasing me, Sir," Adariel frowned, her cheeks flushed with annoyance.
"No!" Adariel was surprised to see that he was genuinely taken aback. "I spoke the truth."
"So you will not tell me?" Adariel asked, trying to figure out if his reason was serious enough to affect her, so she was surprised to see a slight blush touch his face.
"Some day I might, but for now, take the most obvious reason and make do with it."
"The most obvious reason?…of course. You were following me to make sure I did nothing rash. Did Aragorn set you up to this?"
"Nothing out of reason," Legolas corrected her smoothly. "And in a way, yes, I was. Aragorn had no say in the matter."
"You will not tell me more?"
"What does your heart tell you?"
Adariel took that into serious consideration. There was a slight heat in her cheeks that she knew to be blush although she could not comprehend why it was there. The initial flood of fright at the first notion that she was being followed had worn off, but her heart was still beating at twice its normal rate. There was a mix of contentment, nervousness and adrenaline, none of which she should be feeling at all. In conclusion, Adariel noted, her heart was a mess.
"If I knew what my heart was telling me, then I would not be asking you these questions!" Adariel said. She looked closely at him and saw that he was looking directly in her eyes. There was a flicker of something that resembled hope in his face, but then it disappeared as soon as it came.
"Peace, Lady Adariel," he nodded politely. "It is late and there is great danger. You had come to speak to your friends in these woods. What tidings do they bring?"
Adariel shook her head. She was glad for the subject to be diverted from herself, but he puzzled her and she felt curiosity stir within her again. She pushed it down ruthlessly and said, "Only tidings of evil and darkness, I fear." Something else was bothering her, but she couldn't figure out what. It was then she noticed the formality he used. "Do not use titles with me, I am not worthy of most of them," She added.
"Then walk with me, Adariel, and tell me all that you have heard. Titles are of no use on me for I do not answer them. We are equals."
She was touched by his gallantry, as he only knew that she was Elrond's daughter and thought of her as a Princess brought up as a noble and therefor carried only the inferior title of Lady. She agreed to his proposal and he offered his arm politely. She raised her eyebrow and looked around deliberately at their surroundings as if to say "there is no need, look where we are!" but he just looked at her.
She took the arm and they headed off toward camp with Adariel talking in a low voice. None of them took notice of Gimli, sitting hunched by the fire, and when he sprang up suddenly, both were startled. Aragorn and Boromir both sat up at the sudden movement and stared. Legolas pulled Adariel with him and they both made their way swiftly to their companions.
There stood an old bent man, leaning on a staff, and wrapped in a great cloak; his wide brimmed hat was pulled down over his eyes. He did not speak or make any signs.
"Well, father, what can we do for you?" said Aragorn, leaping to his feet. "Come and be warm, if you are cold!" He strode forward, but the old man was gone. There was no trace of him to be found near at hand, though they searched. Adariel offered to go back to the edge of the Fangorn and look but Aragorn refused saying it was too dangerous for any of them to wander that far. For a second, Adariel felt guilt seeping out into her carefully smoothed expression.
The moon had set and the night was very dark.
Suddenly Legolas gave a cry from next to Adariel. "The horses! The horses!"
The horses were gon0eo. They had dragged their pickets and disappeared. For some time the five companions stood still and silent, troubled by this new stroke of ill fortune. They were under the eaves of Fangorn, and endless miles lay between them and the Men of Rohan, their only friends in this wide and dangerous land. As they stood, it seemed to them that they heard, far off in the night, the sound of horses whinnying and neighing. Then all was quiet again, except for the cold rustle of the wind.
"Well they are gone," said Aragorn at last. "We cannot find them or catch them; so that if they do not return of their own will, we must do without. We started on our feet and we have those still."
"Feet!" said Gimli. "But we cannot eat them as well as walk on them." He threw some fuel on the fire and slumped down beside it.
"Even if we did have horses, I would not allow you to eat them!" Adariel said sharply. "But that is not what bothers me most. My mare would not leave me without good reason and I fear for her."
"If you wish to know what I think," Gimli began again, "I think it was Saruman. Who else? Remember the words of Eomer: he who walks about like an old man hooded and cloaked. Those were the very words. He has gone off with our horses, or scared them away and here we are. There is more trouble coming to us, mark my words!"
"I mark them," said Aragorn. "But I marked also that this old man had a hat and not a hood. Still I do not doubt that you guess right and that we are in peril here. Yet in the meantime there is nothing we can do but rest, while we may. I will watch for a while now, Gimli. I have more need of though than of sleep."
Adariel felt a soft nudge in her side. Legolas looked at her pointedly. "Oh!" she said aloud, remembering. "If it were Saruman who came to us tonight, then I have worse tidings still…" and she told them of all that had happened in Lakewood, leaving out nothing except maybe her source of information. But it didn't take long for Aragorn to guess.
"Your news is valuable to us, but you strayed too far for my liking," He said sharply. "I swore to keep you safe and I shall."
"You swore a vow to yourself, and I made no such promise!" Adariel shot back heatedly. "But my anger does not rule my reasoning. What do you make of what I have said?"
"Our friends are deep in Fangorn, and we must save them from a fate worse than death," Aragorn replied. "But the new turn of events will complicate things." Then he turned his eyes to the fire, looking deep inside as if seeing visions that saddened him. "We can only wish for a distraction to occupy Lakewood, but as that is unlikely, we shall just have to be on our guard."
"The eyes and ears of our kin are sharp," warned Legolas. Adariel said nothing. She was still pondering Aragorn's words, and a clumsy plan was formulating. But there was doubt in her heart and anguish. Questions ran through her head as if chased by Sauron himself but she raised her eyes to the faces of every one of her companions whom she had unwillingly grown so close to, and saw that her own doom lay upon her.
"A distraction…" Adariel muttered. She agreed to take the last watch after Gimli and made a point to bid goodnight to everyone who sat around the fire, even Boromir. They were surprised, but not suspicious. When her watch came and she was roused roughly by a hand shaking her, she bade the chestnut tree to keep all who slept under its falling leaves safe, and was gone.
In the morning, Gimli, Aragorn and Boromir awoke to a started cry from Legolas who had worry written in every graceful curve of his face, and his first words to them were simple and the determination behind them terrifying.
"She's gone."
1.1 End of Chapter 12
Reviews please! NO FLAMES but constructive criticism is very welcome! –Spirit Star
Sorry for the delay:( I have school starting again and I had to get all my stationary, etc. etc. etc.
Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews! I'm trying to figure out how to balance school and writing which is not easy here in my house. I have extremely strict parents, I should add…lucky me.