Lady of Mordor

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Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for the plot and unrecognizable characters.

Chapter Four

Lothlorien

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The sound of Nimrodel faded slowly but still rang in her ears. Her horses slowed to a walk, allowing the calming song of Nimrodel soothe her gently.

She almost forgot her journey, she almost forgot about Sauron, about the mark on her skin... Almost.

A faint golden light between the bare trees caught her eye as she stared over her shoulder. Lothlorien.

She did not notice her horse had stopped for she was too busy, admiring the golden glow of Lorien and the Sun twinkling upon the dark branches of the trees, towering her. The wind whistled in her ear.

But slowly she realized there was no wind. Turning her head, she caught a glimpse of an arrow flying towards her shoulder but there was no time to avoid its wrath. It planted itself deep into her shoulder and she bit her lip to prevent from screaming.

The arrow was buried deep in her shoulder. Blood dripped from her shoulder, staining her gown she wore. She lifted her head, her vision becoming blurry. She saw dark shapes, running towards her, growls escaping their lips.

Orcs... Darkness washed over her as a blanket of black began to cover her eyes slowly. Pain slowly overpowered her and her vision was black. Thoughts disappeared and everything was silent as she fell off her horse and became unconscious, drowning her darkness.

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"She stirs," a voice echoed in her ears.

A soft groan escaped her lips and pain became to flood through her body. She felt weak and fragile and her eyelids were heavy as she tried to lift them.

Slowly the darkness ebbed away and a golden glow filled her eye, illuminating the dark sky. It was night and the only sounds heard were the singing of crickets and the crackling of flames.

Fire? She slowly lifted her head weakly, struggling to sit. Her energy slowly dissolved as she struggled but managed to sit. Her head became to spin as she stared at the small fire crackling at her feet.

"You should save your energy, arwen nin*," said a voice startling her slightly. Turning round, she stared at a pair of glowing blue eyes. Emerging from the shadows of the night, an Elf towered above her, tall and beautiful, yet stern and serious.

His golden tresses were neatly twisted into elegant braids and his face was smooth and young but old and looked as though he had seen many winters. The pair of glowing eyes belonged to him, glittering in the firelight. He wore strange clothing, unfamiliar to her but then she had only seen Orc armor and her tattered white gown she wore for many years.

"What did you call me?" Fuinwen asked slightly frightened, inching away from him but she felt a sharp pain in her arm. She stared down at her arm, only to find a deep wound, cleaned of blood but the arrow was gone.

"My lady," he answered, kneeling down to examine her wound. A hiss slipped through her gritted teeth as he touched the wound. "It is poisoned as I had feared."

"Who are you?" she asked, fear evident in her voice, slipping away from his touch but she felt her strength, fading slowly. Her head began to spin again.

"Haldir of Lothlorien," he answered. "Allow me to tend your wound. It is poisoned as many arrows of Orcs are. We are close to Lorien. I have no skill to heal a poisoned wound but only tend. I will take you to Lorien to be healed."

"No," she whispered. "Don't take me... I can't." She edged away from him, turning her head, searching vainly for her horse to escape. "No." Her head began to spin again, energy slowly ebbing away. "No..."

Haldir looked confused but determined. "I will take you to Lorien to be healed, milady! I cannot leave my own kind in the woods alone to die!"

"Yes, you can!" she cried, feeling pain rising again. "I will travel, poisoned or not!" She struggled to her feet and began to walk forward, her feet heavy.

"You will die and I will not allow that," Haldir said fiercely, striding toward her, scooping her into his arms. She struggled vainly but darkness overcame her and she fell in unconscious as the poison rapidly spread.

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Haldir walked into the healing rooms, staring at the She-Elf. Her golden tresses were dull and stained with dirt as well as her pale cheeks. Scars were scattered across her face, some small and minor, some large and gruesome. Her lips were pale and cold.

Her white tattered gown hung loosely on her and was stained with blood. Eyelids hid her eyes, which he distantly remembered as green orbs filled with painful memories.

But it had been a month and a few weeks since he had seen them. She was struggling against the poison but it was strong and slowly overpowered her. Her life hung on the edge of a knife.

Haldir thought this Elf was strange from others. Very strange... She was not as beautiful as most She-Elves and a strange darkness surrounded her features.

Turning away from her cold lifeless face, the marchwarden walked out of the flet slowly, facing the morning. A cold bitter winter wind caressed his face and the golden glow of the Sun mingled with the mallorn trees twinkled in his eyes.

The beauty of Lorien was beyond words. The golden leaves of the mallorn trees glowed with a golden light touched with silver. White niphredil and yellow elanor, winter flowers, glowed with a silver light on the unfaded grass.

Haldir ignored the wind for he was an Elf; they do not feel warm nor cold. A smile appeared on his face as his eyes settled on Rúmil and Orophin, his brothers whose golden tresses shined in the sunlight.

"Good morning," he said smiling at his brothers who frowned slightly.

"Good morning," Rùmil replied. "Orcs have been passing through Lorien's borders..." He frowned and Orophin stared at the horizon, watching the golden Sun glitter behind the treetops, orange streaks in the pale sky.

"And we have watch also," Haldir said. "Come, do not delay. Orcs will come quickly if there is no one watching on the northern borders." Orophin grinned weakly and followed his older brother, walking underneath the mallorn trees.

Silence filled the air as they continued to trudge on for hours before stopping at their positions, only speaking when needed.

The soft gurgling of Nimrodel was heard, mingled with a sweet voice of song. Haldir listened to the soothing sound quietly as his keen eyes searched for any signs of Orcs.

Orophin's voice pierced the air like a dagger suddenly. "I hear a song," he said. "A song only our kinsman would know."

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Fuinwen stirred slightly, the darkness covering her eyes ebbing away ever so slowly.

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A/N: I have an idea with the skull mark. I'm going to keep that instead of changing it and to those who thought she was going to Rivendell, you were wrong. Don't be impatient to know what happens later because I'm going to make you all hang onto the page when you read it.