The Fallen
Chapter Four
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Author's Note: Thanks for reading! The story should actually start picking up the pace pretty soon! Thanks for sticking with me! Hope you enjoy this
part. More to come soon!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Thanks to PhoenixFyre and Anolinde for their reviews! I hope you continue to enjoy this story as much as I like writing it!
Cheers!
~Rhiana~
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Haldir heard the scream as loud as if someone had shouted in his ear, only moments before he caught sight of the small band of Orcs, barely a league away. Haldir's keen eyes caught sight of a black horse just ahead of them, and as he watched it stumbled and rolled, its rider caught beneath it and likely crushed. He spoke to Steelsheen, asking him to run the fastest he had ever run, desperate to reach the fallen rider before the Orcs did, and the mighty stallion put on more speed than he had, as yet, ever shown Haldir.
Meanwhile, the Orcs closed in on the fallen rider.
Pulling his bow from behind him, Haldir nocked an arrow as he drew closer. Then he let them fly. One, two, three shots, and three Orcs fell. Confused, they looked around, brandishing their foul blades and growling loudly. Another shot struck an Uruk-hai directly in the face, cleaving the disfigured flesh. He fell with a loud thud. The last Uruk was lifting the body of the fallen rider, none too gently, and Haldir snarled with rage when he saw the long black hair tumble down. A woman! Two more arrows he loosed, then another and another, riddling the body of the Uruk-hai that held her, and at last he fell, dropping the woman's body to the ground. She cried out as she struck the hard earth, and made no more sound.
Steelsheen slowed, but Haldir had already leaped off his back. He slung his bow over his back as he ran. The woman lay half atop the dead Uruk, her long black hair hiding her face from view. Gently, he lifted her off the disgusting creature, carried her a good twenty paces away, and laid her down. She whimpered a bit, though she was unconscious, a sign that she must be in a good deal of pain. He left her only long enough to check on her horse. The poor beast was already dead, its lifeless eyes glazed over and unseeing. Haldir closed his own blue eyes against the sight of the arrow that protruded from its belly. The Uruk-hai's shot was true and lethal, as they always were.
Haldir moved back to the woman's side, her stirring a warning that she was about to wake up. He brushed back the hair that covered her face and gasped. An angry purple and bluish bruise spread upward from her right cheekbone and upwards, underneath her eye and out to her temple. He hadn't seen the Uruk-hai strike her, so he didn't know whence it came..
He took a moment to observe her before she awoke. For a mortal, she was quite fair, he supposed. Quite tall by men's standards she was, but there was grace in her limbs that was evident even in her sleep. Her hair was long and raven black, her skin alabaster pale, much like his own. He wondered what color her eyes would be.
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Nyara stirred again, and slowly her eyes opened. When she caught sight of Haldir, they went wide. Scrambling to sit up, she clutched her head and groaned. "Who are you?" she whispered, her voice soft with sudden wonder. Her eyes drank in his features: Long pale hair, crystal blue eyes, elongated slightly pointed ears, that light that shone around him that nearly blinded her.....
"You're an Elf," she gasped.
"I am," he said, and his voice flowed over her like music. Yes, most definitely an Elf. "My name is Haldir."
"You saved me."
Haldir nodded.
"Thank you. If not for you, I'd be dead now. Or worse. I have never seen Orcs before."
"Lucky you are that you have not. Orcs have not bothered with Men for an Age, though you do not seem distraught at their sight." There was a question in his voice that she did not miss. His blue eyes locked with her own, and she felt that he could see clear through to her very soul.
"I believe in the old stories. I've read nearly everything I can get my hands on about the Great Years, and before. The Orcs were always a part of them, as I remember."
Haldir stared at her. A mortal woman who believed! It was a surprise to him, for he knew that modern Men did not now believe in Elves, or Dwarves, or Hobbits. Orcs would certainly be far from their realities. Yet here was a young woman, fresh enough in the ways of the world as to not be tainted by cynicism and doubt. Hope still abounded within her spirit.
As he looked on her he felt her light, her internal sparkle shone through to his clouded soul. She gave him hope as he hadn't known before, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why. All the wisdom of his years hadn't prepared him to find hope within a mortal, and yet there it was. She fascinated him.
He realized that her eyes were gray; a deep gray, like the sea after a heavy storm, when Ulmo rose up to remind the world and its inhabitants of his might and wrath. Perhaps she was of Prince Imrahil's distant descendants.
"Haldir?" Nyara queried, jerking his attention back to the present. He looked at her. "Do you think you could help me stand up? I'm a little bruised but I don't think anything's broken."
Haldir nodded and gently grasped beneath her shoulders to lift her, surprised at how gracefully she moved, even in pain.
"You certainly don't say much, do you?" she commented, putting weight on her limbs little by little, testing the waters until she knew for herself that nothing was broken.
Haldir didn't answer her question, instead going to his own mount and retrieving a fair cloak from a pack on the stallion's back. "Wear this." He hesitated a moment before speaking again. When he did speak, his voice was solemn. "Your horse lays over there." He pointed to a dark figure lying upon the ground not far away, and Nyara's eyes flew over Nightshade's prone body, lingering on the arrow protruding from his side. Unbidden, tears came to her eyes.
"He was a noble stallion," she commented absently.
"I am sorry."
Nyara met eyes with Haldir. "I must tell you the truth about myself. I ran away from home. That is why I was alone."
"Running will not help you."
Nyara sniffed back the remaining tears and sighed. "I could think of no other solution. My mother sold me to--"
"Sold!" Haldir exploded, making Nyara jump. His body vibrated with rage so suddenly that it took her aback. "Sold! No being can claim ownership over another."
"And yet it is so," Nyara explained. "Things are different now. My mother sold me for marriage to an evil man. Even his name makes my blood run cold."
Haldir looked at her squarely. "What is the name of this man who is your betrothed?"
Nyara shuddered. "I will not call him my betrothed. Betrothed is a term for those in love, not for this.....this.....business arrangement. I cut him, you know." She was speaking absently now, not really caring if he was listening or not. "I came around the barn on Nightshade's back, and he stepped in front of me. There was so much evil in his eyes..... And I cut him. I drew my knife and I cut him and.... his blood. It was black. Blacker than midnight. There was so much rage and so much anger.... It made my vision darken, and I thought I wouldn't be able to escape him. But then I was free, and it passed." She took a deep calming breath, sighing softly.
Haldir's mind raced as she spoke. It could only be the one he was sent here to stop. "Please, Lady. His name. What did your mother say about him?"
"She called him Prince Umbrul, and all I learned of him is that he is from the East. I couldn't explain to her that that area is Mordor, for no one believes in the old tales anymore. So I did the only thing I knew of to do. I ran."
Haldir took a deep breath. He knew now that they were destined to meet. She was his link, the key to his quest. Umbrul would come for her, and there he would meet his doom. "Then we must not let him find you," he said, rather decisively.
"You're overlooking one small problem," she said.
Haldir looked blankly at her, a very rare expression for an Elf.
"My horse. He's dead."
Recognition flickered instantly. "That is no matter. You may ride with me."
Steelsheen snorted.
"If my companion will agree, naturally," Haldir amended.
Nyara looked on Steelsheen with wonder as the great stallion approached. His large eyes were liquid and deeper than any well she could imagine. Fluid grace lived in his limbs, and there was fire in his step. Nobility and pride shone from his eyes and pronounced itself in the grand arch of his mighty neck.
"I have never seen such a beautiful animal," she breathed, daring to stroke his neck just once. It arched up beneath her gentle touch, and she laughed as he tossed his head and snuffled at her.
"He is of the Mearas. Great steeds they were, mostly gone now. A few still remain, horses of such intelligence and speed that they are almost incomparable to the horses used by Men. Steelsheen is the only steed able even to be compared to the great Shadowfax."
Beside him, Steelsheen snorted again and tossed his mane, bobbing his head up and down as if agreeing with Haldir's praise.
"Steelsheen will consent to bear you and I both, and he will show you the meaning of speed. Come," he said, mounting up and holding out his hand. Hesitantly she took it, to find herself nearly tossed, though with a gentle touch, up before him on the stallion's back.
"Where do you go?" Nyara asked, not certain that she wanted to venture once more into the woodlands with this man- Elf- though she immediately trusted him.
"I ride to Eryn Lasgalen, Land of the Green Leaves, to seek King Thranduil of that realm, and Celeborn also, Lord of East Lorien."
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Nyara allowed these words to sink in, searching her memory for those words. She had read them before, she was certain. "Eryn Lasgalen? King Thranduil......I have read that name before. It is familiar to me, but I don't know why. Thranduil...... Oh! Yes, I remember now. Thranduil was King of Mirkwood, and Legolas Greenleaf's father."
Haldir nodded. "You are right. King Thranduil has been Lord of that realm since I was but a small Elfling, and that is no small number of years."
"How old are you, Haldir?"
"Did you know that Mirkwood used to be overrun with spiders? Giant, fanged beasts. Even now Elves hold no love for them, for King Thranduil's people fought valiantly, and lost many lives, in trying to keep the Shadow from the wood."
"Haldir."
He looked at her, finally, and she laughed. "How old are you?"
Haldir sighed, and shook his head. "We Elves do not age as mortal Men. I have been alive through several Ages of this world. I have seen things that I would never wish an innocent as yourself to see. I have waited nearly two Ages to return to Middle-earth from Mandos, and now the cycle of my life will continue."
Nyara fell silent, finally realizing who she was riding with. Haldir had helped the Fellowship in Lothlorien. She had read about him countless times in the old manuscripts, and of his death. Only now did she fully understand. He had been dead nearly two Ages, and was now sent back from Mandos. Surely there must be a reason for his return to Middle-earth, rather than going on to Elvenhome as all the other Elves would eventually do.
"Why are you here, Haldir?"
"I have been asked to perform a task. Once I do so, I will be free to live as I please."
"What is this task?" She didn't care that she was being nosy. Something inside told her that she would somehow be involved, and her mind would not rest until she knew exactly what would be demanded of her.
Haldir gazed straight ahead as he spoke. "To kill the man your mother sold you to."
Nyara gasped. "Truly? What could warrant such violence?"
"You said yourself that this man is wholly evil. You sensed it after being in his presence only a short while. Even as we speak, your intended is gathering an army; an army that he intends to use to complete the Dark One's work, started so long ago."
"But surely, from all I read of the Dark Lord, Umbrul is but a shadow of that evil."
Haldir nodded. "Even so, he claims kinship with the Dark Lord, and has already gathered such beasts to him as have never been imagined by your people. Demons of the ancient world that even my people have a hard task remembering."
"And your task is to stop him."
"Yes. Kill him if I must, and destroy the beasts under his command." Haldir did not tell her that even gathering the numbers to fight such monsters would be nearly an impossible task. That was why he rode now to Eryn Lasgalen, hoping to seek aid from Thranduil and Celeborn. They were the only two great Elf Lords left in all of Middle-earth. The Elves still remaining were past their autumn, and they too grew weary of this home. Soon they too would depart the Havens, until the last ship was built and Cirdan the Shipwright upon it, sailing for the Undying Lands with all that remained of the Elves in Middle-earth.
"Then I will help you," Nyara said suddenly, drawing him away from his dreary thoughts. "I will help you kill Umbrul, Haldir."
"A battle is no place for a Lady, Nyara."
Nyara set her stubborn chin, her back rigid, and faced straight ahead. "You will need me, Haldir. I can get close to him, close enough to kill him if I must. And I will kill him, if it means saving my people."
Closing his eyes, Haldir sought for reason, but found none. Perhaps Nyara was intended to help him complete this journey. Who was he to make that decision for her? "I cannot have your welfare on my mind should it come to battle."
"I can take care of myself if I must," she retorted, inciting a derisive snort from Haldir.
"Surely, as that party of Orcs must have thought when they had you in their bow sights. I'm certain such a delicacy would have gone unpraised."
Nyara was silent for a long moment. Haldir's words cut deeply, for she knew the truth in them. She was not a fighter, not a valiant swordswoman like Eowyn Shieldmaiden of Rohan. She'd probably just end up getting herself killed in this, but no matter. She had no home, no family left to turn to. No friends. Even her horse was dead.
"I am sorry, Lady," Haldir said after a moment. "I was wrong to speak to you thus. I am sorry."
Nyara nodded and continued staring ahead. So much flew through her mind, it was easier to keep silent and sort it out than it was to attempt to tell Haldir her concerns. Perhaps it would be best if she waited until they reached King Thranduil and Lord Celeborn to give voice to her questions.
They rode all day and all night, lights bending and colors blending as she slipped from consciousness to sleep and back to consciousness again. They passed through country so beautiful it took her breath away, back over the fields of Rohan, after which they followed the Anduin for untold hours. Steelsheen never tired, though he bore the weight of a young woman and a fully-grown Elf Lord. His hooves were silent as the night as he raced, and Nyara couldn't help but feel as though she were flying, so smooth was his gait.
Behind Nyara, Haldir kept one arm securely around her waist to keep her from falling off Steelsheen's back when sleep would again claim her. He gave her food, lembas, as they rode, and water also, to keep rests to a minimum. He wanted to reach Thranduil and Celeborn as soon as was possible. Even the Eldar would not say when Umbrul would make his attack upon Middle- earth, and that gave Haldir the extra incentive to complete his task before it was too late, and more Men lost their lives.
Already, he knew that there had been killings by Umbrul's beasts, especially nearer the borders of old Mordor. It would pain Aragorn to know that all his great works and efforts were now falling to naught. During the years of Aragorn's reign Men, Elves, and Dwarves had walked freely among each other; now Men no longer believed in them, and the Elves and Dwarves had estranged themselves from them.
Gandalf had once said that faith must be placed in Men for the world to survive, but Haldir could not see how it had any hope if it were acceptable to sell one's own children for money. Perhaps Middle-earth truly was fated to fall to the Shadow, but Haldir would lose his life again, if necessary, to keep that from happening. If for no other reason but the hope of more people like Nyara living in the world, people who still believed in their legends, the actual history of their world.
Such hopes were more fragile than the stuff of dreams.
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Author's Note: Well, hope you liked this part! Part Five will be up shortly, so be sure and check it out! Reviews are more than appreciated, and if you'd like to contact me with questions or comments, feel free to
email! I love hearing from people who read my stuff! Thanks!!!
~Rhiana~
Chapter Four
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Author's Note: Thanks for reading! The story should actually start picking up the pace pretty soon! Thanks for sticking with me! Hope you enjoy this
part. More to come soon!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Thanks to PhoenixFyre and Anolinde for their reviews! I hope you continue to enjoy this story as much as I like writing it!
Cheers!
~Rhiana~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Haldir heard the scream as loud as if someone had shouted in his ear, only moments before he caught sight of the small band of Orcs, barely a league away. Haldir's keen eyes caught sight of a black horse just ahead of them, and as he watched it stumbled and rolled, its rider caught beneath it and likely crushed. He spoke to Steelsheen, asking him to run the fastest he had ever run, desperate to reach the fallen rider before the Orcs did, and the mighty stallion put on more speed than he had, as yet, ever shown Haldir.
Meanwhile, the Orcs closed in on the fallen rider.
Pulling his bow from behind him, Haldir nocked an arrow as he drew closer. Then he let them fly. One, two, three shots, and three Orcs fell. Confused, they looked around, brandishing their foul blades and growling loudly. Another shot struck an Uruk-hai directly in the face, cleaving the disfigured flesh. He fell with a loud thud. The last Uruk was lifting the body of the fallen rider, none too gently, and Haldir snarled with rage when he saw the long black hair tumble down. A woman! Two more arrows he loosed, then another and another, riddling the body of the Uruk-hai that held her, and at last he fell, dropping the woman's body to the ground. She cried out as she struck the hard earth, and made no more sound.
Steelsheen slowed, but Haldir had already leaped off his back. He slung his bow over his back as he ran. The woman lay half atop the dead Uruk, her long black hair hiding her face from view. Gently, he lifted her off the disgusting creature, carried her a good twenty paces away, and laid her down. She whimpered a bit, though she was unconscious, a sign that she must be in a good deal of pain. He left her only long enough to check on her horse. The poor beast was already dead, its lifeless eyes glazed over and unseeing. Haldir closed his own blue eyes against the sight of the arrow that protruded from its belly. The Uruk-hai's shot was true and lethal, as they always were.
Haldir moved back to the woman's side, her stirring a warning that she was about to wake up. He brushed back the hair that covered her face and gasped. An angry purple and bluish bruise spread upward from her right cheekbone and upwards, underneath her eye and out to her temple. He hadn't seen the Uruk-hai strike her, so he didn't know whence it came..
He took a moment to observe her before she awoke. For a mortal, she was quite fair, he supposed. Quite tall by men's standards she was, but there was grace in her limbs that was evident even in her sleep. Her hair was long and raven black, her skin alabaster pale, much like his own. He wondered what color her eyes would be.
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Nyara stirred again, and slowly her eyes opened. When she caught sight of Haldir, they went wide. Scrambling to sit up, she clutched her head and groaned. "Who are you?" she whispered, her voice soft with sudden wonder. Her eyes drank in his features: Long pale hair, crystal blue eyes, elongated slightly pointed ears, that light that shone around him that nearly blinded her.....
"You're an Elf," she gasped.
"I am," he said, and his voice flowed over her like music. Yes, most definitely an Elf. "My name is Haldir."
"You saved me."
Haldir nodded.
"Thank you. If not for you, I'd be dead now. Or worse. I have never seen Orcs before."
"Lucky you are that you have not. Orcs have not bothered with Men for an Age, though you do not seem distraught at their sight." There was a question in his voice that she did not miss. His blue eyes locked with her own, and she felt that he could see clear through to her very soul.
"I believe in the old stories. I've read nearly everything I can get my hands on about the Great Years, and before. The Orcs were always a part of them, as I remember."
Haldir stared at her. A mortal woman who believed! It was a surprise to him, for he knew that modern Men did not now believe in Elves, or Dwarves, or Hobbits. Orcs would certainly be far from their realities. Yet here was a young woman, fresh enough in the ways of the world as to not be tainted by cynicism and doubt. Hope still abounded within her spirit.
As he looked on her he felt her light, her internal sparkle shone through to his clouded soul. She gave him hope as he hadn't known before, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why. All the wisdom of his years hadn't prepared him to find hope within a mortal, and yet there it was. She fascinated him.
He realized that her eyes were gray; a deep gray, like the sea after a heavy storm, when Ulmo rose up to remind the world and its inhabitants of his might and wrath. Perhaps she was of Prince Imrahil's distant descendants.
"Haldir?" Nyara queried, jerking his attention back to the present. He looked at her. "Do you think you could help me stand up? I'm a little bruised but I don't think anything's broken."
Haldir nodded and gently grasped beneath her shoulders to lift her, surprised at how gracefully she moved, even in pain.
"You certainly don't say much, do you?" she commented, putting weight on her limbs little by little, testing the waters until she knew for herself that nothing was broken.
Haldir didn't answer her question, instead going to his own mount and retrieving a fair cloak from a pack on the stallion's back. "Wear this." He hesitated a moment before speaking again. When he did speak, his voice was solemn. "Your horse lays over there." He pointed to a dark figure lying upon the ground not far away, and Nyara's eyes flew over Nightshade's prone body, lingering on the arrow protruding from his side. Unbidden, tears came to her eyes.
"He was a noble stallion," she commented absently.
"I am sorry."
Nyara met eyes with Haldir. "I must tell you the truth about myself. I ran away from home. That is why I was alone."
"Running will not help you."
Nyara sniffed back the remaining tears and sighed. "I could think of no other solution. My mother sold me to--"
"Sold!" Haldir exploded, making Nyara jump. His body vibrated with rage so suddenly that it took her aback. "Sold! No being can claim ownership over another."
"And yet it is so," Nyara explained. "Things are different now. My mother sold me for marriage to an evil man. Even his name makes my blood run cold."
Haldir looked at her squarely. "What is the name of this man who is your betrothed?"
Nyara shuddered. "I will not call him my betrothed. Betrothed is a term for those in love, not for this.....this.....business arrangement. I cut him, you know." She was speaking absently now, not really caring if he was listening or not. "I came around the barn on Nightshade's back, and he stepped in front of me. There was so much evil in his eyes..... And I cut him. I drew my knife and I cut him and.... his blood. It was black. Blacker than midnight. There was so much rage and so much anger.... It made my vision darken, and I thought I wouldn't be able to escape him. But then I was free, and it passed." She took a deep calming breath, sighing softly.
Haldir's mind raced as she spoke. It could only be the one he was sent here to stop. "Please, Lady. His name. What did your mother say about him?"
"She called him Prince Umbrul, and all I learned of him is that he is from the East. I couldn't explain to her that that area is Mordor, for no one believes in the old tales anymore. So I did the only thing I knew of to do. I ran."
Haldir took a deep breath. He knew now that they were destined to meet. She was his link, the key to his quest. Umbrul would come for her, and there he would meet his doom. "Then we must not let him find you," he said, rather decisively.
"You're overlooking one small problem," she said.
Haldir looked blankly at her, a very rare expression for an Elf.
"My horse. He's dead."
Recognition flickered instantly. "That is no matter. You may ride with me."
Steelsheen snorted.
"If my companion will agree, naturally," Haldir amended.
Nyara looked on Steelsheen with wonder as the great stallion approached. His large eyes were liquid and deeper than any well she could imagine. Fluid grace lived in his limbs, and there was fire in his step. Nobility and pride shone from his eyes and pronounced itself in the grand arch of his mighty neck.
"I have never seen such a beautiful animal," she breathed, daring to stroke his neck just once. It arched up beneath her gentle touch, and she laughed as he tossed his head and snuffled at her.
"He is of the Mearas. Great steeds they were, mostly gone now. A few still remain, horses of such intelligence and speed that they are almost incomparable to the horses used by Men. Steelsheen is the only steed able even to be compared to the great Shadowfax."
Beside him, Steelsheen snorted again and tossed his mane, bobbing his head up and down as if agreeing with Haldir's praise.
"Steelsheen will consent to bear you and I both, and he will show you the meaning of speed. Come," he said, mounting up and holding out his hand. Hesitantly she took it, to find herself nearly tossed, though with a gentle touch, up before him on the stallion's back.
"Where do you go?" Nyara asked, not certain that she wanted to venture once more into the woodlands with this man- Elf- though she immediately trusted him.
"I ride to Eryn Lasgalen, Land of the Green Leaves, to seek King Thranduil of that realm, and Celeborn also, Lord of East Lorien."
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Nyara allowed these words to sink in, searching her memory for those words. She had read them before, she was certain. "Eryn Lasgalen? King Thranduil......I have read that name before. It is familiar to me, but I don't know why. Thranduil...... Oh! Yes, I remember now. Thranduil was King of Mirkwood, and Legolas Greenleaf's father."
Haldir nodded. "You are right. King Thranduil has been Lord of that realm since I was but a small Elfling, and that is no small number of years."
"How old are you, Haldir?"
"Did you know that Mirkwood used to be overrun with spiders? Giant, fanged beasts. Even now Elves hold no love for them, for King Thranduil's people fought valiantly, and lost many lives, in trying to keep the Shadow from the wood."
"Haldir."
He looked at her, finally, and she laughed. "How old are you?"
Haldir sighed, and shook his head. "We Elves do not age as mortal Men. I have been alive through several Ages of this world. I have seen things that I would never wish an innocent as yourself to see. I have waited nearly two Ages to return to Middle-earth from Mandos, and now the cycle of my life will continue."
Nyara fell silent, finally realizing who she was riding with. Haldir had helped the Fellowship in Lothlorien. She had read about him countless times in the old manuscripts, and of his death. Only now did she fully understand. He had been dead nearly two Ages, and was now sent back from Mandos. Surely there must be a reason for his return to Middle-earth, rather than going on to Elvenhome as all the other Elves would eventually do.
"Why are you here, Haldir?"
"I have been asked to perform a task. Once I do so, I will be free to live as I please."
"What is this task?" She didn't care that she was being nosy. Something inside told her that she would somehow be involved, and her mind would not rest until she knew exactly what would be demanded of her.
Haldir gazed straight ahead as he spoke. "To kill the man your mother sold you to."
Nyara gasped. "Truly? What could warrant such violence?"
"You said yourself that this man is wholly evil. You sensed it after being in his presence only a short while. Even as we speak, your intended is gathering an army; an army that he intends to use to complete the Dark One's work, started so long ago."
"But surely, from all I read of the Dark Lord, Umbrul is but a shadow of that evil."
Haldir nodded. "Even so, he claims kinship with the Dark Lord, and has already gathered such beasts to him as have never been imagined by your people. Demons of the ancient world that even my people have a hard task remembering."
"And your task is to stop him."
"Yes. Kill him if I must, and destroy the beasts under his command." Haldir did not tell her that even gathering the numbers to fight such monsters would be nearly an impossible task. That was why he rode now to Eryn Lasgalen, hoping to seek aid from Thranduil and Celeborn. They were the only two great Elf Lords left in all of Middle-earth. The Elves still remaining were past their autumn, and they too grew weary of this home. Soon they too would depart the Havens, until the last ship was built and Cirdan the Shipwright upon it, sailing for the Undying Lands with all that remained of the Elves in Middle-earth.
"Then I will help you," Nyara said suddenly, drawing him away from his dreary thoughts. "I will help you kill Umbrul, Haldir."
"A battle is no place for a Lady, Nyara."
Nyara set her stubborn chin, her back rigid, and faced straight ahead. "You will need me, Haldir. I can get close to him, close enough to kill him if I must. And I will kill him, if it means saving my people."
Closing his eyes, Haldir sought for reason, but found none. Perhaps Nyara was intended to help him complete this journey. Who was he to make that decision for her? "I cannot have your welfare on my mind should it come to battle."
"I can take care of myself if I must," she retorted, inciting a derisive snort from Haldir.
"Surely, as that party of Orcs must have thought when they had you in their bow sights. I'm certain such a delicacy would have gone unpraised."
Nyara was silent for a long moment. Haldir's words cut deeply, for she knew the truth in them. She was not a fighter, not a valiant swordswoman like Eowyn Shieldmaiden of Rohan. She'd probably just end up getting herself killed in this, but no matter. She had no home, no family left to turn to. No friends. Even her horse was dead.
"I am sorry, Lady," Haldir said after a moment. "I was wrong to speak to you thus. I am sorry."
Nyara nodded and continued staring ahead. So much flew through her mind, it was easier to keep silent and sort it out than it was to attempt to tell Haldir her concerns. Perhaps it would be best if she waited until they reached King Thranduil and Lord Celeborn to give voice to her questions.
They rode all day and all night, lights bending and colors blending as she slipped from consciousness to sleep and back to consciousness again. They passed through country so beautiful it took her breath away, back over the fields of Rohan, after which they followed the Anduin for untold hours. Steelsheen never tired, though he bore the weight of a young woman and a fully-grown Elf Lord. His hooves were silent as the night as he raced, and Nyara couldn't help but feel as though she were flying, so smooth was his gait.
Behind Nyara, Haldir kept one arm securely around her waist to keep her from falling off Steelsheen's back when sleep would again claim her. He gave her food, lembas, as they rode, and water also, to keep rests to a minimum. He wanted to reach Thranduil and Celeborn as soon as was possible. Even the Eldar would not say when Umbrul would make his attack upon Middle- earth, and that gave Haldir the extra incentive to complete his task before it was too late, and more Men lost their lives.
Already, he knew that there had been killings by Umbrul's beasts, especially nearer the borders of old Mordor. It would pain Aragorn to know that all his great works and efforts were now falling to naught. During the years of Aragorn's reign Men, Elves, and Dwarves had walked freely among each other; now Men no longer believed in them, and the Elves and Dwarves had estranged themselves from them.
Gandalf had once said that faith must be placed in Men for the world to survive, but Haldir could not see how it had any hope if it were acceptable to sell one's own children for money. Perhaps Middle-earth truly was fated to fall to the Shadow, but Haldir would lose his life again, if necessary, to keep that from happening. If for no other reason but the hope of more people like Nyara living in the world, people who still believed in their legends, the actual history of their world.
Such hopes were more fragile than the stuff of dreams.
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Author's Note: Well, hope you liked this part! Part Five will be up shortly, so be sure and check it out! Reviews are more than appreciated, and if you'd like to contact me with questions or comments, feel free to
email! I love hearing from people who read my stuff! Thanks!!!
~Rhiana~