Chapter 14
Glorfindel looked out over the descending sunset. Today would be the day. They were leaving for Imladris. All was prepared. Horses had been picked and given to most of the Elves; the only horse that was staying was Galada. Armor has been found and suited for each individual Elf of the army. Now, the only thing that was holding them back was Glorfindel himself.
The Noldor Elf sighed and turned to his own armor, which was made of plain gold in the shape of Lothlórien leaves. How he missed that place. It reminded him briefly of Gondolin, his beloved home before it was destroyed.
Glorfindel put on his undergarments and then dressed in the mail. He tied his long, white cloak around his neck and fastened it with the brooch of Rivendell. He then took his sword and placed it in his sheath, admiring its glitter even in the dark.
Glorfindel stood in front of his mirror and pulled out a beautiful necklace from beneath his tunic. He fingered the familiar shape of the Evenstar, memorizing its curves and glitches. Arwen's necklace caught a few of the weak rays that were coming in from the sun, and transferred the light throughout the room.
"Today is a new day," he said calmly to himself. "Time will tell the story."
****
Lizule led Gloried out into the dusk. The stallion was shining like a spark of silver. The horse bore grace and pride in every step; his muscles rippled under his skin. He raised his head and pricked up his ears, showing that he was indeed alive and ready to go off to war. Lizule stroked his mane while chewing on her bottom lip nervously. She was petrified of leaving her home.
All of the Elves around her were saying good-bye to their families and promising that they would be back soon. Lizule hoped that that would be true for every single one of them. She led Gloried over to a tree stump and mounted up. She then joined Gabriel who was saying farewell to Retkia.
Meanwhile, Laurelin was in the garden, her eyes downcast and face full of sadness. Legolas was leaving her, and something horrible might happen to him. It scared her beyond belief.
She sat down on a stone bench and admired the beauty of the roses once again. They seemed to have finally gotten over Totholain's death and gone on with their lives. The question was, could Laurelin do the same?
"Totholain," she whispered. "It would be so much easier if you hadn't died," she said, and then she laid her head in her lap and wept.
"Laurelin."
She jerked her head up and saw that Legolas was sitting upon Arodas, looking more handsome then ever. He was wearing silver armor in the like of Glorfindel's, but he bore the brooch of Mirkwood. His sword, which had proved him right so many times, was hanging from his belt. The bow and quiver of the Lady Galadriel was on his back, along with his own two knives. His crown was gone, but his hair was shining in the weak light.
Arodas was almost as magical looking as his master. He was bearing a sliver bridle, which was intertwined with green stems and leaves. His saddle was wrought of the most expensive mithril available, signifying that he was the mount of the Prince of Mirkwood. The kind horse's eyes were fierce, and blazed with an invisible fire. He shook his long, black mane to get it out of his face.
Laurelin stopped crying. This was her husband. He was a deadly warrior, and would kill any that stood before him and questioned his authority. For a moment, she was quite frightened.
"Why do you cry?" he asked as he steadied his frisky horse. "I told you I will be back."
Laurelin stood and walked over to them. She ran her hand along Arodas's coat; it felt like silk.
"Totholain warned you," she said softly. "His predictions were always correct."
"For you maybe, but he faltered on this one. I will come back. I will hold my promise in the rose I gave you so long ago. I give you my word."
Laurelin nodded, but a couple tears squeezed out of her eyes, and she wiped them away hastily.
~ The Rose. The Rose will tell you his fate ~
She backed up to let Legolas pass and join the rest of the army, but Legolas did not move Arodas forward. He sat silently and then said,
"I love you." He beckoned her to come next to him.
He took her hand and bent down from his seat and kissed her. Laurelin closed her eyes, trying to savor the kiss, to make it last for as long as needed. But when he sat back up, Laurelin had already lost the magic of it.
"I ride for the salvation of the Elvish race," he said. "It is time to redeem ourselves."
With one final wave, he clucked to his horse and cantered out of the garden. Laurelin followed at a much slower pace, dreading that she had many more good-byes to make.
****
"Be safe and stay out of trouble," Laurelin warned Lizule. "It is a dangerous world out there."
Lizule nodded, her throat closing up with tears. She gave her friend a hug, knowing that she would never see her again. The pain was close to unbearable.
"You did a fine job with Gloried," Laurelin commented, trying to make the other Elf feel better. "Totholain would be proud."
"I think I am not worthy to ride such a magnificent beast, but I am glad that I could heal him to the best extent of my knowledge."
"You are just as worthy as Totholain was. You have a special gift with animals, Lizule. Use it."
Lizule nodded and wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by the blast of a trumpet.
"Prepare for departure in five minutes." Elves finished up their good-byes and reported to their position.
Lizule reined Gloried away from her friend and dipped her head, her heart heavy. She had said so many good-byes, it was making her brain hurt. She rode up beside Glorfindel, who was talking to Isitur and Legolas. She tapped him gently on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, my Lord, but where am I to ride?" Glorfindel turned to her and when he saw her mounted on Gloried, his eyes widened. The horse looked exactly in the state he was before Totholain's death.
"You can ride next to me. Legolas and Isitur will be behind us, if that is okay. You don't mind being up in front, do you?"
"No, not at all." Lizule positioned Gloried next to Asfaloth. She blinked her eyes a couple times; Asfaloth was blinding to the eyes because of his radiance.
Glorfindel steadied his horse and scanned the forest. They had to get started soon, before the sun set even lower behind the clouds. It was getting dark.
Laurelin gazed at the array of color. Glorfindel bore gold, Legolas and Isitur bore silver, the horse-riders bore bronze, and the Elves that were walking bore copper. The color blended together to create a blazing light that hurt the eyes. Along with Asfaloth's whiteness, it reminded her of the war that the Valar had fought against Melkor so long ago. No Elf had been there, for the race of Elves had not been created yet, but she had heard tales and stories of that war. It was said to have been very spectacular.
Glorfindel took his sword and raised it high in the air. The time had now come.
"To war!" he cried as his horse reared up on its hind legs, pawing the air. The stallion came down and took off, the rest of the legion following them. Laurelin trained her stare on Legolas as he rode into the trees, praying that she would see him again.
****
Lizule took off Gloried's saddle and bridle. The stallion shook his head to get rid of the feeling of the bridle. He then lowered his muzzle and began to munch on some dry grass that surrounded the path that they were taking through the woods. Lizule sighed and laid the riding gear on a tree branch and sat down, her legs weary. They had been riding non-stop for the last four days. The only time Glorfindel did let them rest was when the Elves that were walking had needed it.
She cringed as she stretched out her foot. The aching in it was enough to drive anyone insane.
"Maybe I should have never agreed to come on this trip," she thought. "I could have stayed home."
Lizule leaned back against a tree, trying to rid herself of her discomfort. The only female in the whole army, she would have thought that someone was bound to notice her.
But it was not so. All of the He-Elves were eating their meals, oblivious to the fact that a maiden was in too much pain to share their food with them.
"Aren't you going to eat something?" Glorfindel said as he approached her. He bent down and put his hand on her forehead. "You look famished."
Lizule groaned. "Don't you realize, my Lord, that I am in excruciating pain? My leg muscles are very sore."
Glorfindel arched his eyebrows. "I believe I can fix that." Standing up, he went over to his saddlebags, which were still on Asfaloth. He got out a piece of bread from it and gave it to her.
"Lembas bread," he said, as she stared at it questionably. "It gives one strength and it heals the aches of riding."
Lizule ate the bread and felt a sense of renewal flow through her. She got up, her legs shaking. She placed a hand on Glorfindel's shoulder to steady herself.
"Feel better now?" he asked, his eyes penetrating through her skin.
She nodded and he led her over to the arrangement of food. She sat down next to Legolas, ignoring the stare of the other Elves. She closed her eyes, wishing she was back home.
"Are you okay?" Legolas inquired of her. "You seem lost." Lizule shrugged, but she didn't open her eyes.
"I'm fine. I just miss all of my friends and of course, Mirkwood."
"I know what you mean. When I went to the Council of Elrond as a messenger for my father, I never dreamed I would not see him again for a year and a half."
Lizule nodded. She understood how he felt. They were going off to Imladris, and she was not coming back to her birth home. She was scared. Thinking of something to help dispose of her thoughts, she said,
"What is Lord Elrond like?'
Legolas smiled as he passed her a loaf of bread. "You will see for yourself soon enough."
****
"Let's go, everyone. We have no time to spare," Glorfindel reprimanded to the group.
Lizule groaned and stood up. She didn't know if she could take much more. Tossing her leftover bread aside, she glared at him, her hands on her hips.
"Glorfindel," she pleaded, her stare never leaving his face. "We are tired and worn out. I demand that you let us rest for the night. The horses need it, and so do the soldiers."
Glorfindel scowled. "We can't afford to rest. Rivendell will be under attack soon. We must make as much haste as possible." Without another word, he mounted up on Asfaloth. The spirited horse looked like he could go for about one more day, but that was it.
Lizule made a face and went over to Gloried.
"Sorry, boy," she murmured. "I know you are exhausted." She put the saddle and bridle on him and swung up on his back. The horse shifted his weight, showing he was not willing to gallop anymore.
"Please, Gloried, for me," she told him. The stallion shook his mane with disapproval. He grudgingly joined the rest of the lineup.
Glorfindel scanned the army to make sure all the Elves were on their horses. He then clucked to Asfaloth and they were off.again.
For the first part of the trip, Lizule focused on different things, other than the pain in her leg. But she soon found it impossible to divert her attention. She gritted her teeth and rode on.
After many hours, they broke for a clearing. The moon cast soft light across the ground.
"We are out of Mirkwood Forest," Glorfindel cried. Most of the legion gave a shout of glee, but Lizule pouted. Before they rode off, she stopped Gloried and turned back to the woods. Never again would she see those woods. Never again would she see her home. She bit back a sob and nudged Gloried in the side. She must keep going.
Legolas gripped onto Arodas's mane. The Prince was starting to fully understand what Lizule was talking about. He missed Laurelin more than anything.
"Hurry, boy," he said to the horse. "The faster we get there, the faster we can leave."
Arodas snorted and picked up his pace. He wanted to go home too. Legolas watched Glorfindel in front of him, noticing his position for the first time. The Noldor Elf sat tall and proud, as if no weariness or sadness was upon him. Legolas didn't know how his thoughts couldn't be consumed by something.
Legolas glanced over at Gabriel. He was spacing out on his horse, looking at all of the scenery about them. Legolas saw that his right hand was bandaged fully in a white cloth.
~ That's where I wounded him ~
Legolas pulled Arodas next to Gabriel's horse.
"How is your hand?"
Gabriel didn't even acknowledge him with a nod.
"Fine, my Lord," he said shortly. "Just fine. Retkia fixed it up so it would not obstruct me from riding."
"I see."
Gabriel turned his head away; he obviously did not want to talk to the Prince at that moment.
Legolas moved Arodas back into position, giving up attempts to communicate with the moody Elf.
~ I do not want to be here ~
****
Laurelin ran her hand along the soft petals of her rose. It had been exactly two weeks since Legolas left. Her heart was heavy and she was full of sadness.
~ The Rose. The Rose will tell you his fate ~
Those last words of Totholain kept on popping up inside of her head again and again. She could not stop the thoughts from coming. It haunted her day and night. There was no escaping.
Laurelin got up and went over to Legolas's chair. She sat down, letting his scent overwhelm her breathing. She remembered the first time she had sat in that chair. It had been on their wedding night.
~ Totholain was still alive ~
It seemed so long ago. She had been intimidated then; intimidated by the idea of having to do something she was not sure she could do. But now, she knew she could. The fact was, she couldn't.
Laurelin closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. In and out, in and out. The pattern of life. There was no stopping it.
Her mind drifted back to when she had lived with Totholain in his house. The days had been happy ones then, even though her mother had died.
Glorfindel looked out over the descending sunset. Today would be the day. They were leaving for Imladris. All was prepared. Horses had been picked and given to most of the Elves; the only horse that was staying was Galada. Armor has been found and suited for each individual Elf of the army. Now, the only thing that was holding them back was Glorfindel himself.
The Noldor Elf sighed and turned to his own armor, which was made of plain gold in the shape of Lothlórien leaves. How he missed that place. It reminded him briefly of Gondolin, his beloved home before it was destroyed.
Glorfindel put on his undergarments and then dressed in the mail. He tied his long, white cloak around his neck and fastened it with the brooch of Rivendell. He then took his sword and placed it in his sheath, admiring its glitter even in the dark.
Glorfindel stood in front of his mirror and pulled out a beautiful necklace from beneath his tunic. He fingered the familiar shape of the Evenstar, memorizing its curves and glitches. Arwen's necklace caught a few of the weak rays that were coming in from the sun, and transferred the light throughout the room.
"Today is a new day," he said calmly to himself. "Time will tell the story."
****
Lizule led Gloried out into the dusk. The stallion was shining like a spark of silver. The horse bore grace and pride in every step; his muscles rippled under his skin. He raised his head and pricked up his ears, showing that he was indeed alive and ready to go off to war. Lizule stroked his mane while chewing on her bottom lip nervously. She was petrified of leaving her home.
All of the Elves around her were saying good-bye to their families and promising that they would be back soon. Lizule hoped that that would be true for every single one of them. She led Gloried over to a tree stump and mounted up. She then joined Gabriel who was saying farewell to Retkia.
Meanwhile, Laurelin was in the garden, her eyes downcast and face full of sadness. Legolas was leaving her, and something horrible might happen to him. It scared her beyond belief.
She sat down on a stone bench and admired the beauty of the roses once again. They seemed to have finally gotten over Totholain's death and gone on with their lives. The question was, could Laurelin do the same?
"Totholain," she whispered. "It would be so much easier if you hadn't died," she said, and then she laid her head in her lap and wept.
"Laurelin."
She jerked her head up and saw that Legolas was sitting upon Arodas, looking more handsome then ever. He was wearing silver armor in the like of Glorfindel's, but he bore the brooch of Mirkwood. His sword, which had proved him right so many times, was hanging from his belt. The bow and quiver of the Lady Galadriel was on his back, along with his own two knives. His crown was gone, but his hair was shining in the weak light.
Arodas was almost as magical looking as his master. He was bearing a sliver bridle, which was intertwined with green stems and leaves. His saddle was wrought of the most expensive mithril available, signifying that he was the mount of the Prince of Mirkwood. The kind horse's eyes were fierce, and blazed with an invisible fire. He shook his long, black mane to get it out of his face.
Laurelin stopped crying. This was her husband. He was a deadly warrior, and would kill any that stood before him and questioned his authority. For a moment, she was quite frightened.
"Why do you cry?" he asked as he steadied his frisky horse. "I told you I will be back."
Laurelin stood and walked over to them. She ran her hand along Arodas's coat; it felt like silk.
"Totholain warned you," she said softly. "His predictions were always correct."
"For you maybe, but he faltered on this one. I will come back. I will hold my promise in the rose I gave you so long ago. I give you my word."
Laurelin nodded, but a couple tears squeezed out of her eyes, and she wiped them away hastily.
~ The Rose. The Rose will tell you his fate ~
She backed up to let Legolas pass and join the rest of the army, but Legolas did not move Arodas forward. He sat silently and then said,
"I love you." He beckoned her to come next to him.
He took her hand and bent down from his seat and kissed her. Laurelin closed her eyes, trying to savor the kiss, to make it last for as long as needed. But when he sat back up, Laurelin had already lost the magic of it.
"I ride for the salvation of the Elvish race," he said. "It is time to redeem ourselves."
With one final wave, he clucked to his horse and cantered out of the garden. Laurelin followed at a much slower pace, dreading that she had many more good-byes to make.
****
"Be safe and stay out of trouble," Laurelin warned Lizule. "It is a dangerous world out there."
Lizule nodded, her throat closing up with tears. She gave her friend a hug, knowing that she would never see her again. The pain was close to unbearable.
"You did a fine job with Gloried," Laurelin commented, trying to make the other Elf feel better. "Totholain would be proud."
"I think I am not worthy to ride such a magnificent beast, but I am glad that I could heal him to the best extent of my knowledge."
"You are just as worthy as Totholain was. You have a special gift with animals, Lizule. Use it."
Lizule nodded and wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by the blast of a trumpet.
"Prepare for departure in five minutes." Elves finished up their good-byes and reported to their position.
Lizule reined Gloried away from her friend and dipped her head, her heart heavy. She had said so many good-byes, it was making her brain hurt. She rode up beside Glorfindel, who was talking to Isitur and Legolas. She tapped him gently on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, my Lord, but where am I to ride?" Glorfindel turned to her and when he saw her mounted on Gloried, his eyes widened. The horse looked exactly in the state he was before Totholain's death.
"You can ride next to me. Legolas and Isitur will be behind us, if that is okay. You don't mind being up in front, do you?"
"No, not at all." Lizule positioned Gloried next to Asfaloth. She blinked her eyes a couple times; Asfaloth was blinding to the eyes because of his radiance.
Glorfindel steadied his horse and scanned the forest. They had to get started soon, before the sun set even lower behind the clouds. It was getting dark.
Laurelin gazed at the array of color. Glorfindel bore gold, Legolas and Isitur bore silver, the horse-riders bore bronze, and the Elves that were walking bore copper. The color blended together to create a blazing light that hurt the eyes. Along with Asfaloth's whiteness, it reminded her of the war that the Valar had fought against Melkor so long ago. No Elf had been there, for the race of Elves had not been created yet, but she had heard tales and stories of that war. It was said to have been very spectacular.
Glorfindel took his sword and raised it high in the air. The time had now come.
"To war!" he cried as his horse reared up on its hind legs, pawing the air. The stallion came down and took off, the rest of the legion following them. Laurelin trained her stare on Legolas as he rode into the trees, praying that she would see him again.
****
Lizule took off Gloried's saddle and bridle. The stallion shook his head to get rid of the feeling of the bridle. He then lowered his muzzle and began to munch on some dry grass that surrounded the path that they were taking through the woods. Lizule sighed and laid the riding gear on a tree branch and sat down, her legs weary. They had been riding non-stop for the last four days. The only time Glorfindel did let them rest was when the Elves that were walking had needed it.
She cringed as she stretched out her foot. The aching in it was enough to drive anyone insane.
"Maybe I should have never agreed to come on this trip," she thought. "I could have stayed home."
Lizule leaned back against a tree, trying to rid herself of her discomfort. The only female in the whole army, she would have thought that someone was bound to notice her.
But it was not so. All of the He-Elves were eating their meals, oblivious to the fact that a maiden was in too much pain to share their food with them.
"Aren't you going to eat something?" Glorfindel said as he approached her. He bent down and put his hand on her forehead. "You look famished."
Lizule groaned. "Don't you realize, my Lord, that I am in excruciating pain? My leg muscles are very sore."
Glorfindel arched his eyebrows. "I believe I can fix that." Standing up, he went over to his saddlebags, which were still on Asfaloth. He got out a piece of bread from it and gave it to her.
"Lembas bread," he said, as she stared at it questionably. "It gives one strength and it heals the aches of riding."
Lizule ate the bread and felt a sense of renewal flow through her. She got up, her legs shaking. She placed a hand on Glorfindel's shoulder to steady herself.
"Feel better now?" he asked, his eyes penetrating through her skin.
She nodded and he led her over to the arrangement of food. She sat down next to Legolas, ignoring the stare of the other Elves. She closed her eyes, wishing she was back home.
"Are you okay?" Legolas inquired of her. "You seem lost." Lizule shrugged, but she didn't open her eyes.
"I'm fine. I just miss all of my friends and of course, Mirkwood."
"I know what you mean. When I went to the Council of Elrond as a messenger for my father, I never dreamed I would not see him again for a year and a half."
Lizule nodded. She understood how he felt. They were going off to Imladris, and she was not coming back to her birth home. She was scared. Thinking of something to help dispose of her thoughts, she said,
"What is Lord Elrond like?'
Legolas smiled as he passed her a loaf of bread. "You will see for yourself soon enough."
****
"Let's go, everyone. We have no time to spare," Glorfindel reprimanded to the group.
Lizule groaned and stood up. She didn't know if she could take much more. Tossing her leftover bread aside, she glared at him, her hands on her hips.
"Glorfindel," she pleaded, her stare never leaving his face. "We are tired and worn out. I demand that you let us rest for the night. The horses need it, and so do the soldiers."
Glorfindel scowled. "We can't afford to rest. Rivendell will be under attack soon. We must make as much haste as possible." Without another word, he mounted up on Asfaloth. The spirited horse looked like he could go for about one more day, but that was it.
Lizule made a face and went over to Gloried.
"Sorry, boy," she murmured. "I know you are exhausted." She put the saddle and bridle on him and swung up on his back. The horse shifted his weight, showing he was not willing to gallop anymore.
"Please, Gloried, for me," she told him. The stallion shook his mane with disapproval. He grudgingly joined the rest of the lineup.
Glorfindel scanned the army to make sure all the Elves were on their horses. He then clucked to Asfaloth and they were off.again.
For the first part of the trip, Lizule focused on different things, other than the pain in her leg. But she soon found it impossible to divert her attention. She gritted her teeth and rode on.
After many hours, they broke for a clearing. The moon cast soft light across the ground.
"We are out of Mirkwood Forest," Glorfindel cried. Most of the legion gave a shout of glee, but Lizule pouted. Before they rode off, she stopped Gloried and turned back to the woods. Never again would she see those woods. Never again would she see her home. She bit back a sob and nudged Gloried in the side. She must keep going.
Legolas gripped onto Arodas's mane. The Prince was starting to fully understand what Lizule was talking about. He missed Laurelin more than anything.
"Hurry, boy," he said to the horse. "The faster we get there, the faster we can leave."
Arodas snorted and picked up his pace. He wanted to go home too. Legolas watched Glorfindel in front of him, noticing his position for the first time. The Noldor Elf sat tall and proud, as if no weariness or sadness was upon him. Legolas didn't know how his thoughts couldn't be consumed by something.
Legolas glanced over at Gabriel. He was spacing out on his horse, looking at all of the scenery about them. Legolas saw that his right hand was bandaged fully in a white cloth.
~ That's where I wounded him ~
Legolas pulled Arodas next to Gabriel's horse.
"How is your hand?"
Gabriel didn't even acknowledge him with a nod.
"Fine, my Lord," he said shortly. "Just fine. Retkia fixed it up so it would not obstruct me from riding."
"I see."
Gabriel turned his head away; he obviously did not want to talk to the Prince at that moment.
Legolas moved Arodas back into position, giving up attempts to communicate with the moody Elf.
~ I do not want to be here ~
****
Laurelin ran her hand along the soft petals of her rose. It had been exactly two weeks since Legolas left. Her heart was heavy and she was full of sadness.
~ The Rose. The Rose will tell you his fate ~
Those last words of Totholain kept on popping up inside of her head again and again. She could not stop the thoughts from coming. It haunted her day and night. There was no escaping.
Laurelin got up and went over to Legolas's chair. She sat down, letting his scent overwhelm her breathing. She remembered the first time she had sat in that chair. It had been on their wedding night.
~ Totholain was still alive ~
It seemed so long ago. She had been intimidated then; intimidated by the idea of having to do something she was not sure she could do. But now, she knew she could. The fact was, she couldn't.
Laurelin closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. In and out, in and out. The pattern of life. There was no stopping it.
Her mind drifted back to when she had lived with Totholain in his house. The days had been happy ones then, even though her mother had died.