Chapter XI
Lenémë ná Altáriel with Galadriel's leave
Galadriel motioned for each of the elves to approach the Fellowship, and I watched, leaning with my arms crossed against a nearby tree, as they passed gifts to each of the members. Aragorn received a sheath for Andúril, Sam a box of Galadriel's blessed earth from her own garden, Boromir, Merry and Pippin golden belts, Gimli three strands of the Lady's golden hair (which amused even myself; who knew he could be so humble, to an elf, even?), and Legolas a strong new bow and a new quiver full with arrows. To Frodo she gave a crystal vial that glowed with light: even I did not know what it was, until she spoke of the star's light from which it came. Wow, to receive a gift such as that. Hope Frodo realizes how valuable it is, but he seems to. He's speechless.
I did not wish for anything or even realize that I was to receive any gifts till Galadriel walked up to me as well. "You as well ask for nothing. Surely there must be something your heart wishes for." She said calmly, and most eyes fell upon myself as they all waited for me to say something.
For a moment I thought of all the things I wished for, things that were both trivial and significant at the same time. Friends lost, things destroyed, items that would help on a journey, small trinkets, a small doll I had when I was 500…I sighed as I realized that even had either Galadriel or myself had the power to return all of these things, they would do nothing to help me or the rest of the fellowship greatly. No, the things I really wanted I had already received: all I wanted from the elves was to know how they felt about me, I guess, whether it is good or bad.
There are many things my heart wishes for, Amilielle, and I wish there a being that had the power to grant them. But I can ask nothing from you that you have not already given me, and for that I am most thankful. I thought at her (which sounds absurd, I know, but how else to say it?), shaking my head as I looked to the ground. As I looked back up, she gave me another small smile, and her eyes gleamed.
Well met, my dear one.
"Then I hope you can accept a small trinket from myself, for I wish not to send you off into the unknown unarmed to protect yourself and those around you." She returned, and held out a long item, wrapped in a dark blue cloth. I cautiously took it; for hell, who was I to tell if it was breakable or not? I felt the hard surface and shape of it and knew immediately what it was.
Hmm… I thought crudely. Obvious… yet, subtle. Unnecessary, but needed… neat!
I slowly unwrapped the cloth, and in my hands I held a long, wide sword, larger than most traditional swords. Inside an intricately carved mithril scabbard lay a gleaming blade, lined along the edges with a sharp aqua-coloured crystal. Normally, one would expect a sword to be all metal, but this was a sword that must have been forged ages ago by none other than the Rámainenórë.
It was beautiful, almost as if it hummed from its core. Wonderfully light it was, much lighter than one would have though just upon looking at it, for indeed it was almost as tall as one of the hobbits.
T'was a great heirloom in the days of old when your people lived here. Only the hand of one of your bloodline can wield it. It will strengthen you in battle, for it also is a vessel for Magi. Much more of its powers I know not, but it calls to be held by one destined for grandeur.
I sheathed it quickly, holding it tightly as I looked up at Galadriel. All of a sudden, a wave of doubt and nausea flooded me, and I almost turned back from going along with the fellowship. Not the idea of Orks or Mordor or even the influence of the Ring made me think twice, but in the moment I realized exactly what the sword in my hand was, the second I held what little remained of my heritage… I was frightened. Terrified. All the screams and pain I had felt recently engulfed me, not wanting me to go on, waiting for my failure…
STOP! Galadriel's mind rang throughout my thoughts, and I suddenly snapped out of reverie. I was still in LothLórien, Galadriel was still standing here, and the Fellowship was still waiting to depart, presumably with me. The sky was still blue, my friends almost ready to go, and Gandalf still dead. Why was I surprised to remember all this? What had happened?
You let your fears and doubts cloud your mind. Know that it can only get worse whilst journeying with the Bearer of the One Ring. If you feel you should not go, speak now.
I swallowed hard, forcing down the lump that suddenly found its way into my throat. I tightened my hand around the hilt of the sword. I nodded and pulled the sword over my shoulder, tightening the strap that held it to my back. Cemendur gave his life protecting others, why should my life be used selfishly?
"I will use everything in my power to aid those in need, my Lady," I said, my voice sounding as confident as I could make it, even though my hands still threatened to tremble.
"Of course you will." She said motherly, and stroked my hair, which I had decided needed to be brought out of my eyes, so was braided in two plaits down the sides of my head and tucked around it. She smiled her prominent smile, one that warmed all hearts that looked upon it, perhaps even my own had I not the foreshadowing of the journey I had agreed to set out on.
"We cannot delay your quest any longer." Celeborn said, and gave directions to the fellowship on the best course to follow for travelling the river Andúin.
As they listened, I closed my eyes, not thinking, just feeling everything inside me and around me. I had no idea what I was doing, but before I could stop myself, I turned back to Galadriel.
"Do you still love me?"
As her usual smiles are beautiful beyond words, this one was beautiful beyond all comprehension, and she looked to me as she did so long ago, before everything. I didn't need to hear an answer, the emotions I felt from her would have put any words to shame. I felt a burned lift, and turned towards the docks.
I don't think it really dawned on any of the Fellowship that they were really leaving until they reached and seated themselves in the boats, but I did notice the change in everyone's attitudes as the boats were pushed away from the docks and we took up paddles. Frodo looked the worst for wear, creases of worry upon his brow as we all took our last glances at the fair wood.
I knew that I would never see the woods again, that this was the last of their beauty to behold, but the knowledge didn't pain me as I thought it should have. It left me numb; like this was the end.
I suppose it was.
"Aíca, what do you think's gonna happen to us next?" Pippin asked. Aíca leaned up from the bottom of the boat and looked at Pippin, then around at the others as they floated steadily down the Anduin. Aragorn, Sam and Frodo had taken one boat, and were ahead of the other two boats. Gimli, Boromir, and the bulk of the supplies were in the next, and Pippin, Merry, Legolas and herself were in the boat trailing a little behind the others.
"Well, do you mean in the grand scheme of events, or in the next short while?" She asked, leaning back again against her pack.
"Let's start with the next short while and make our way from there, shall we?"
"As sound a plan as I've ever heard, my dear," she said playfully, and smiled at the grin that plastered the two hobbits' faces and the slight twitch of Legolas' lips.
"For starters: We are in a boat. We shall continue to be in a boat for some time, paddling and getting quite sick of the water. When it feels like we've forgotten what land feels like underneath our feet, Aragorn will decide that we shall stop for the night. Gimli will start fights with our lone elf, Boromir will try to shut him up, threats will ensue, and Sam will be the hero of the day by knocking out the bickering men with his frying pan."
Not one of the hobbits could say a word for a moment, before bursting out in hysterics which for a moment led her to believe they would tip the boat had it not been made by elves.
"Well, I didn't think it was that funny…" she mumbled.
"Well, no, but can't you just picture it? It would be like the books we used to read when we were little, with all the drawings!" Pippin cried.
"And the pictures were always so silly, with stars over the head if you got hurt and X's for eyes, and then you can just think of Gimli or Boromir knocked out on the ground with huge red bumps over their heads where they were hit and stars circling their heads!"
She didn't quite know what they were referring to, having never read a hobbit child's book, but she laughed simply at their exuberance. Even Legolas laughed.
She glanced at Merry, who had stopped giggling and had a forlorn look on his face.
"This will end, won't it?" he asked, his voice quiet. He kept paddling, but she noticed the slight trembling in his hands, and took the paddle from him, giving it to Pippin. She pulled him down to the bottom of the boat, hugging him as they laid there looking up at the sky, which had turned slightly cloudy.
"Merry, nothing is forever. What's the oldest thing you know?"
"I don't know… probably Legolas. Or Galadriel, she's old for an elf, isn't she?"
"She is, though it's impolite to talk about a Lady's age." She smiled, and could feel him relax a little more against her. "Elves are very old creatures, Merry. They do not age as hobbits or men do. But how can you kill an elf?"
"In battle?" His voice was unsure, timid, and she rubbed his arm reassuringly.
"You are right. They can die in battle. Not even elves last forever. The whole world is changing. Right now even more so. But things do come about full circle, don't they? If you burn a field, eventually trees and plants will grow again, won't they?"
"That's right! And when they do, they grow better, cause they get a fresh start." He said matter of fact.
"My, you're a smart one. I like that in hobbits. So, even though things look bad right now, and it seems like nothing is staying the same, we all will have a fresh start, won't we?"
"I guess so. It doesn't sound very pleasant, though." He looked up at her as a strong shudder ran through her body, and her face crumpled unpleasantly in a grimace.
"Neither are mushrooms pleasant, but you hobbit's seem very keen on eating them."
"Hey! Don't knock them until you've tried them! Honestly, that's blasphemy, is what that is!"
"No thank you. You can have all the mushrooms I can pick for you when this is all over!" She smiled again, leaning back and letting her eyes close. The two hobbits were quite content to carry on about the merits of 'Mushrooms, the food of Kings!' as Merry and Pippin referred to them as, and she let them talk to their hearts content, partially listening to their animated discussion. While she couldn't shake off the sense of foreboding that seemed to be in the air, she also knew that Aragorn would stop them in a short time to rest, which lightened her spirits.
Legolas, silent during their discussions, couldn't help but notice the worry in Haíthwen's eyes as she listened in part to the conversation. While he admired the way that she had attempted to ease Merry's fears, a part of him knew that she was also trying to convince herself of her own words.
Pippin asked her to sing a song, and, seemingly too tired to refuse, she sang soothing melodies the rest of the journey, until they finally stopped to shore the boats and rest.
Author's note: I could begin by saying sorry for not updating for such a long time, but… I'm kind of not. I haven't written anything in so long because of grade twelve workload, and then that workload doubled with first year University, and then tripled with second year.
I will apologize for not keeping up with this story, as I should have, though. I'm scared that this story, how it's written, is too different from the style in which I wrote it almost three years ago. I've also forgotten most of the smaller details of the Tolkien universe, especially the language. If anyone wants to help me, as a beta or just offering your opinion, I would greatly appreciate it.
Ciao