Chapter 7:

In the last chapter two soon-to-be members of the Fellowship arrived at Imladris, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood and the Dwarf Gimli, a kinsman of the King Under-the-Mountain. Adair Ithilwen and her companion Lhydell Uinaerien met up with old friends and, also, with new acquaintences. Ithilwen and the elf lord Adarhír found their love for each other and shared the melody of Iluvatar while Uinaerien and the children of Elrond made mischief in the Evemere, a blessed pool by a waterfall. After the tense meeting of Legolas and Gimli, Uinaerien learns that Aragorn is yet alive and Legolas finds out that his friend now faces and even worse foe than orcs or goblins.

"My lord! Lord Elrond wishes for your presence in his study," the servant tapped Adarhír's shoulder, drawing his attention away from where Ithilwen sat brushing her straight, long brown hair. The words were spoken so silently that she barely even looked up from her mirror. "Thank you." The curly haired lord rose from his seat and went up behind his love and caught her hand as it reached back to run the brush through her tresses. She smiled and let go of the brush as he took over the task of brushing and braiding her hair in the elvish fashion, making small and even braids and using them to bind the rest into a twisted knot piled on the back of her head. "You don't have to do that for me, I'm not a complete child." He smiled lovingly, "you know I love to comb it, it's so lovely and strait, unlike mine." He raised a hand to push a chunk of curls out of his eyes, "I will be most glad once it is trimmed." Ithilwen stood and turned to face him, letting a slender but strong and calloused hand run through his curls and twisting one absently around her fingers, "I think it would look very nice long with the top braided back and the rest left down, like how Perennear wears his. His hair is gorgeous" He looked at her with a raised brow and she added, "His looks very nice, but yours is cuter, love." "His hair isn't nearly as curled as mine. His is merely wavy." "Oh don't pout, you big elfling," Ithilwen taunted. He stuck out his lip and made big, adoreable puppy eyes at her and his lower lip quivvered. She gave him a playful shove and patted his cheek when he mocked hurt. "Oh don't be such a big baby, if you keep your lip out like that a birdie will come by and poop on it." He giggled in suprizingly dignified way that he had mastered over his many thousands of years of life, and kissed her forehead tenderly, "I have to go now, love." "I know," she hugged him close, pressing her head into the crook of his neck, "don't be long." He kissed her again and then broke her hug and walked silently from the room.

'It's the nineth of October already! The time is flying past and I haven't even prepared properly for our assignment. What will Adair say?' Thought Uinaerien, 'I suppose she is ready and rearing to move on... but then, she has been mooning around with lord Adarhír practicly since we got here, they sure do melt when they are together... it's too bad it will never be...' Uinaerien gave a start, 'where did that come from... who says it isn't meant to be?' Despite the protests part of her gave, a voice deep inside her said that this was something not meant for them and they would not see the dawn of hope together. This saddened the young ranger to no ends and distressed her too. 'I should talk to her, maybe, and see what she thinks is meant to be...' Uinaerien wandered from her seat by the fountain and poundered what she would say to her friend when she accidently found herself in the secret hall that surrounds the study of Elrond. She halted and looked around, suddenly scared that she would get in trouble for being there, and looked around for someplace to esape. A thin bar of light shone vertically into the dark hall and she lurched for the door... and found herself going from the pan into fire. "You are the only ones who may openly ride against these evils, word from my kin travelling through the west tells that the ring bearer has left the Shire and is making for my halls, pursued by cloaked riders. These are, without a doubt, some of the Nine. "My messengers and scouts tell me that a party of rangers were driven off from the Fords and pursued by five of the wraiths, the other four riding into the lands of the halflings. Luckily for the rangers, only one was killed and three wounded, and the others were chased far east before the wraiths departed and rejoined their chief. They met with something at Amon Sul, and fled from whatever it was that they attacked. No other knews I can deliver other than that it seems that just three nights ago they regrouped at the weather top and again waged a battle. The trees speak of fire, cold blades, and a great pain. I fear that the ringbearer or one of his companions was either killed or grieviously wounded by the blade of the Witch-King of Agmar." Uinaerien peeped out from behind the curtain she found herself hidden by. Lord Elrond, a terrible and great look on his face and his eyes ablaze, stood before a group of elf lords. Their backs were to her but she could guess quite correctly that their faces wore that same passion and fire. Elrond continued speaking, directing the lords that they must ride out, one in each direction, to ride against the Nine Riders whose presence had suddenly departed. "I know not from which direction the ringbearer will approach, but, if I am correct, I believe that my son is with him and that they will come by the Bridge of Mitheithel. Glorfindel, I wish you to ride in that direction." He finnished up and the lords bowed and left the room, so it was just Elrond and Uinaerien, who was hidden behind the curtain, remaining in the room. For a moment, the young ranger felt hopeful that he had not noticed her enterance and began to slowly move back into the corridor when the curtain was pulled away and there stood the elf lord revealed in his fury, sword drawn and poised to kill. Uinaerien felt as if the floor and crashed out from under her and her stomach raced up into her throat and her face went so white that, in later tellings of the story, Elrond thought that she had died standing up. "Oh Gods," she breathed and was about to faint when the lord blinked and seemed to shrink down from a mighty and terrible warrior to the wise and pleasant humoured lord that she knew so well. "Uinaerien," he sighed in a scolding tone, lowering the bright elvish sword and reaching a hand out for her to take, "what, by the One, do you think you're doing hiding behind that curtain?" Uinaerien stammered for a moment, trying to gather he thoughts into a half meaningful sentence, but could only come up with, "whaaa... oh Eru I... Ithilwen... ohhhh..." That eyebrow raised itself and he lead the now visibly shaking ranger to a chair near the fire place and sat her down, crouching down infront of her and took her hand into his. "Listen to me, Uinaerien, rada le na thîr toba, it is alright, avo niphred mi sen herth uin nestadren, tell me what is the matter." Elrond pleaded. The beautiful elvish language made her calm down and stop trembling, but she was unable to put her wits together. 'Surely I could not have scared her this badly, something else must have been running through her mind that she came to this state.' He thought. "Man, erneth-nin, gruitha le? Nara le narn." She shook her head but gasped out the words, "Im gerin tiro man na ú anim mi tiro." Elrond frowned, "this council you fell into was nothing secret, and you have nothing to fear. Rada le na thir toba, erneth-nin." The ranger hugged her knees and Elrond had to lean foreward to hear her wisper, "Palan athra mi annan im tiro... palan athra mi annan..." He inhaled sharply, "you have had a vision... you have the foresight?" Uinaerien nodded convulsively. "What did you see?" It took a few moments until she had controled her breathing and let herself relax and lean back into the comphy chair, and a few more before she dared to speak. "I saw a banner flying over an army of dead things, a black banner. The water was dark and at the healm was a hooded and cloaked figure flanked closely by a tall being with golden hair and a smaller one with an iron helm. Then it changed and I saw the flash of a sword and bright blood on the snow, and Ithilwen fell. Adarhír was running into the trees to her and arrows screamed past me, but before I could see what happened then it changed once more. I was here and you were gone. The trees were fading and the Evemere run dry. Then all I saw was you standing before me with your blade at my throat and I knew not if it were an aparition or reality." The Elf lord looked increadously at the young, frightened ranger. "Was there a feeling of evil," Elrond hesitated, never having seen a vision such as this, "when Imladris was empty?" Uinaerien shook her head, "no, only of sadness... of departure. I don't think you had died, but passed on into the West, I suppose. It was so sad, and the Evemere was dry and the ferns were dead. It was as if when you left that the life and beauty of this place had gone with you." Elrond closed his eyes and unconciously fingered the disguised Elven ring on his finger, 'yes, that is how this place will be, erneth-nin, when I leave.' He thought sadly.

Ithilwen finished checking on the sound asleep Uinaerien and made silently for the lower kitchens where she knew Hélen would be making the ill rangers favourite foods. "Aunty," she knocked on the door, entering when a merry voice called her in, "what is on the menu for today?" Hélen tisked and pushed a plate full of daintey cakes and stawberries at Ithilwen, "here is something for you that I think you might like," the jolly she-elf laughed as Ithilwen practicaly devoured the platefull of food in three giant gulps. "Is there any more?" The ranger received a swat with a tea towel at that question and narrowly managed to dodge another when she commented that that must mean 'no'. "Hmm, you certainly seem hungry. Could it be because you have not been to dinner for the past two nights, off galivanting about with Lord Adarhír, I suppose. Oh, you two are so sweet together, lassie." She passed a bowl of berries to her attentive audience, "I just hope that you understand what you might be getting into." Ithilwen cocked her head to the side and absently held a strawberry up and pointed it in Hélen's direction, "what do you mean?" "Oh!" The elf momentarily scrambled for words, "didn't little Uinaerien tell you what it was that made her ill? Well, not ill, really, just shaken up quite badly." Ithilwen didn't say anything just shook her head, so Hélen continued. "She had a vision, it turns out that our little one has the gift of foresight." "Foresight! Really? I did not know; what did she see?" Hélen closed her eyes and sighed, "If she did not tell you and neither did Lord Elrond, I hardly think that I should have the right to tell you. You must find out from Uinaerien herself." "But first," she cleared her throat and picked up a tray laden with delicious foods and ripe fruit, "you must wake miss sleepy head and have her eat as much as possible. She needs to eat." Ithilwen smiled and took the tray, nearly groaning at the weight of all the food on it, "yes, aunty."

"Oh Gods, how does she expect me to eat all of this? Really, she must think me a hobbit," Uinaerien complained, sitting up and pushing off the covers on her bed, "I'll nere be able to finish this!" Ithilwen grinned and Arwen laughed bright and clearly, like the waters of the Evemere. "We'll help," Arwen offered, taking one of the delightfully light and melt in the mouth cakes and poping it into her mouth. "It's the least we could do for a friend," She added. The two mortals laughed and began to pick through the array of delicious dishes and Arwen, a sucker for the imras cakes, finished them off before the others got to them. By the time most of the food was cleared off the tray and the pitcher of wine polished off, all three companions were stuffed to the brim with Hélen's good cooking and baking and leaned back on the large bed. "Mmm, it's not every day one gets to eat so well," Uinaerien commented, sucking a piece of fruit skin out of her teeth in a most unlady-like fashion, "I can't remember the last time I ate this much." Ithilwen groaned as she streatched her legs out infront of her, "Ah, I can... it was the banquet for Strider's twenty-fith name day. Oh, Hélen went all out for that event. Mmm, I can still to this day taste the sweet meats and pies that she made for us." Uinaerien chuckled and leant back on her pillow, "well, after this meal, I think that and the little feasts I had in Erelas with Pegebon some years back were the second best I've eaten." Arwen smiled, "You need to visit my Grandmother's kitchens in Lothlórien then, if you want to have the best food ever made. Of course, Hélen's is delicious, but the stuff in Lórien is...oh... beyond all description." The two mortals both made faces at their immortal friend and Ithilwen tossed a pillow at Arwen. "Bragger," Uinaerien laughed. This, Ithilwen thought, might be a good time to find out what exactly happened to her friend. "Hun, I heard say that you aren't sick. What happened that you were sent to bed?" Though she phrased this question light and innocently enough, Uinaerien ducked her head and Ithilwen felt a wave of guilt. "Oh, mellon nin, I am sorry," she gushed, leaning forewards and draping a protective arm around the younger woman's shoulders. Uinaerien clasped her friend's hand and gave her a brave smile, "It's okay, Adair, it's alright." Arwen, shoving the pillow back at Ithilwen, coughed (a very un-elf-like thing to do) and began to sing a little rhyme.
Long ago and long afar
Wandered one who became a star
Ai! So grand he built his ship
Ai! The silver sails and watermaidened tip
Ai! The songbirds on the breeze
As Earnil passed over the seas.

Uinaerien smiled dreamily and sighed. "Oh, that I wish I had seen that ship rather than the dark one I had in my vision. It was fell and crewed by dead men, but captained by a man and accompanied by two others, one dwarf and the other an elf. Strange this was and stranger yet were the other things I saw; but I will speak no more, I can't tell. I can't tell you, Ithilwen, because I don't understand." Arwen moved close and hugged her mortal friend who had gathered her face into her hands and began to sob bitterly. 'Oh, the poor child,' the daughter of Elrond thought sadly, 'I can guess that she has seen something that happens to Ithilwen. Yet, she seems to regard me with that same... caution of one that knows something will happen...' Ithilwen had left Uinaerien's room once her distraught friend had fallen asleep and wandered in the gardens until late that evening, missing Adarhír's songs and gentle touch. She sighed as she came across the stables, but moved along. There would be no Adarhír there. Elladan and Elrohir were gone, too. It seemed, to Ithilwen, that all the elves she knew best were gone or leaving; all the lords had left to hunt orcs or on secret assignments for Elrond, and many of her lifelong friends had left to the havens in the last few years, and now she felt completely isolated from the rest of her own kinsmen. The rangers on the borders of the Shire and Bree had sent no message to her since she left, Lhydell was having visions and wants to be left alone, and who knows where Aragorn is! Surrounded by others, Ithilwen felt alone, cold and miserable. Thanks, I know it's still quite short and scattered. Oh, and yes I do realize that in one chapter I said that Elladan and Elrohir left and Adarhír went out to look for Aragorn and Frodo and then had them in Imladris in the next chapter. I just saw that myself when I went through looking for little things like that. Pooh. There are getting to be too many characters in this story - I think I am going to have to change the scenery soon or else we'll meet the whole entire fellowship, and that will be too much for my writing skills... meh. Anywhom, I'm going to wrap up this chapter now and try and get the story moving again. Toodles,
Jinnder