Chapter Sixteen: The Three Armies

The company trekked along the western edge of Mirkwood, heading south. They stopped briefly once on the way down, and made it to the south-western tip of the woods by the afternoon of the second day. They then made the somewhat perilous journey across the plains between Mirkwood and Lorien. Mélanyë did her best to keep up, but often fell to the back of the group. Lindir made sure that she stayed in front of him so that she didn't get left behind.

They crossed the Anduin and into the Golden Wood just as the sun was setting and met up with more elves, the army of Lorien. The leaders once again got together and discussed their plans. Mélanyë saw Haldir greet the Galadhrim warmly, and spoke immediately with someone who she thought was his lieutenant.

He was tall like the others, but she noticed with surprise that his hair was dark like hers, rather than the usual silver of the Galadhrim. He had keen grey eyes, and she saw them pass critically over the other elves, finally resting on her. Several emotions showed on his face, ranging from curiosity to alarm.

Lindir was again called over, and as he neared, the dark-haired elf stopped him and they spoke. The two talked for a moment and she saw him gesture in her direction. Mélanyë turned away and went off by herself, not wishing to be scrutinized. She sat with her back against a huge Mallorn and rested her forehead on her knees, listening to all the conversations around her.

"Mae Govannen," She looked up and saw the dark haired-elf crouching inches in front of her and started in surprise. She had been concentrating so much on the others' voices that she had not heard his approach. "My name is Aldamir."

"Mélanyë," she said, feeling her heart go back to its normal speed. He gave her a mysterious grin.

"Lindir said you are a halfling." He scanned her with his piercing gaze. "Why are you here with us?"

"I'm also an elf," she said. "And my reason for being here is just as good as yours."

"I am here because it is my duty. Is it yours also?" She paused and thought for a moment. She perceived, as she studied him, that Aldamir was young, possibly closer to her age, if not a little older. She sensed no motive to his question, if only curiosity. She thought about it and gave the only answer that seemed truthful to her.

"Yes."

The three Elven armies spent the day organizing themselves and so camped where they had met up with the Galadhrim, just inside the north-eastern borders. Mélanyë and Aldamir talked as they ate a light lunch, and she was glad for the company, as Lindir was occupied with the others. The two became fast friends, and she learned all about Uruviel, his wife, and of the strange Orcs that have been seen on the borders. She spoke to him of her home and of Frodo and Bilbo.

"Bilbo!" she cried. "I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to him!" He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure he'll understand."

Later, Aldamir went out for what he thought may be his last walk among Mallorns for some time, and took Mélanyë with him. On the way they found some fallen branches, which he collected.

"We could make some extra arrows while we wait for the others," he said. She agreed to help and they spent the morning making Lorien arrows. They sat side by side, Aldamir carving the shaft, and Mélanyë finishing them off with tips and feathers. She sighed and picked up another arrow.

"I wish I knew how to shoot," she said, more to herself than for conversation. Aldamir paused in his work.

"You mean you don't know how?" he asked in amazement.

"Well," she paused as she attached a feather to the shaft, "My mother taught me how to use a bow, but I'm not very good. I never hit what I aim for." Aldamir dropped the arrow he'd been carving and stood.

"Where's your bow?" he asked. She looked to the ground and began to play with the feather in her hand.

"I...I don't have one," she said quietly. An amused smile spread across Aldamir's face and he unhooked the bow from his back.

"It's hard to practice without one," he said, handing it to her. "It's a bit big for you, but it will have to do."

He spent the rest of the day teaching her how to shoot as the Galadhrim. She was a fast learner, and by nightfall could hit most of her targets on the first try.

"Now just think how much easier that will be with your own bow," he said as they brought back all the arrows. He looked down at their abandoned task and grinned.

"Well," he thought, "we'll have less arrows, but at least we have another archer."

That evening, after they had eaten, the elves relaxed around the campfire in the middle of the clearing. Haldir had decided that Mélanyë was going to learn how to fight, so the two were practicing while some of the others looked on. Lindir and Aldamir were sitting against a large tree at the edge of the clearing, Lindir watching the fight intently, and Aldamir carving a curved tree branch.

Haldir swung at her head, but she saw the blow and caught his wrist. She made to kick him in the side, but he in turn caught her by the ankle and flipped her onto her stomach.

"You learn fast," he said, smiling as she got to her feet. She was enjoying her lesson, but she'd hit the ground hard. She shook it off and suddenly broke into a run, barrelling right into Haldir and knocking him to the ground. She heard somewhere behind her Aldamir laughing as she and Haldir rolled around trying to pin each other down. At last, he won and held her face down in the grass.

"Had enough?" he laughed. In answer, she brought her leg up and caught him in his side, knocking him off balance just enough so that she could squirm out from under him. She got to her feet, feeling pleased with herself, but saw that Haldir was crouched on the ground holding his ribs where she'd kicked him.

"Haldir!" she cried, running to him. When she got near, he kicked her in the stomach. He was careful not to hurt her, but pushed hard enough that she fell backwards. He got up and knelt beside her. He was smiling, but his tone was serious.

"Show no mercy, Mel," he said. "There is no word for it in Black Speech." He helped her to her feet and continued with the lesson.

Lindir was watching the fight carefully. He'd nearly gotten up to help Mel when Haldir had knocked her down, but quickly reminded himself that it was just an exercise. He could hear Aldamir beside him, carving something.

"So, are you going to tell her?" Aldamir asked, breaking the silence. Lindir watched him carefully carve another long stroke in the wood before answering.

"'Tell her' what?" Aldamir paused his work and looked the other elf in the eye.

"You may have been able to fool her mellon, but the rest of us can read you like a book." He went back to his work. Lindir paused, thinking.

"No," he said finally. "I'm not." Aldamir smiled.

"And how long are you going to wait, exactly?" Lindir watched the other elf change his strokes, taking smaller shavings from the wood and smoothing out the corners.

"She's too young." he said after a long pause. "She can never know. It's not right."

"Not telling her is what's not right," he said. "Look at her! She's not a child, she'll understand."

"She is to me!" Lindir snapped a bit too sharply. Realizing that he'd raised his voice, and that others might have heard him, he softened his tone. "I practically raised her. I can't be thinking these things."

"Her mother raised her, Lindir. Don't punish yourself because you happened to have been born first." Aldamir carved another long shaving out of the wood as he spoke. "And how do you know she's not having the same thoughts?" Lindir didn't respond right away, he looked back to the fight. After a moment he glanced back at Aldamir.

"What are you making, anyway?" Aldamir laughed and continued his project.