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To the Northlands

The King rode to the front of the riders, his eyes riveted to the ground for any more tracks or signs. Everyone rode in silence looking about them and listening. The elves in the party extended their senses in all directions trying to find any clues that could be used to aid in the finding of Gilraen.

Elfwine rode not far behind the King and observed him carefully. He had heard that the King was an expert tracker and he wanted to learn all he could. He knew Aragorn was following the horse's tracks at the moment, watching to make sure that the horse did not leave the trail. The strain and desperation on the King's face was heartbreaking and Elfwine felt his own emptiness and guilt about what had happened as well. If only he had followed her, he kept thinking to himself. If only he hadn't upset her with his jealousy. He blamed himself greatly and vowed that he would do anything in his power to make sure she returned safely.

Aragorn had suddenly held up his hand to signal all to stop. Everyone's eyes followed the King's line of vision to see what he had found. A tremble went through Aragorn's body and he released a harsh breath as he slid down from his mount and walked over to a patch of ground to the side of the trail. Many of the elves dismounted and walked up behind him. The King knelt down and put his hands over the ground as Legolas knelt down beside him.

"There was a struggle here," the King managed to say in a strangled voice. Legolas put a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Tears came to the King's eyes as he picked up strands ofGilraen'shair surrounding this spot. He laid the long strands in his palm and pressed them to his cheek. Then his fingers closed tightly on them as he stood up and let out a cry of anguish.

"Elessar!" came a commanding voice. All looked up at Lord Celeborn who sat tall on his horse nearby. "Gilraen still lives. This I can feel. We must continue."

The King looked at Celeborn and took a deep breath to compose himself. He nodded slightly and opened his palm again, looking at the strands of his daughter's hair. He gathered them together and wound them around his finger like a ring, tucking them in to secure them.

"Uncle look," said Mendir suddenly. He pointed to the sky in the North. Elladan looked up and felt as if the dark grey clouds which ran across the sky were running across his heart as well.

"Aragorn, a storm approaches," Elladan called out. Everyone looked up now, observing the unusual cloud formations. The clouds were moving much too fast to be natural and this type of storm was very unusual for this time of the year. They were not that far north yet.

Legolas, who had just remounted his horse, now looked over at Lord Celeborn. Celeborn had his eyes shut and seemed to be in deep thought. Everyone else watched these strange clouds in confusion. Legolas began to suspect that something unnatural was occurring.

"How can this be?" a King's guard was heard to say.

Lord Celeborn now said, "He controls the weather."

Everyone looked over at Celeborn in question and disbelief.

"How can a man do so?" asked Legolas in shock. Lord Celeborn turned his head to look at Legolas.

"There is no man or elf that can control the weather," he replied.

"Then who?" asked Aragorn quickly.

Celeborn looked at Aragorn now. "Only the Valar or an Istari can do so. It is as I feared."

"What do you say?" demanded Aragorn, his fear growing.

Legolas looked at Celeborn closely as a thought came to him. "Are you saying Radagast has done this thing? How can it be?"

"Not Radagast," said Celeborn, "but another."

"The man we hunted near Rivendell, he was no wizard!" exclaimed Elladan.

"You are correct," said Celeborn. "But the man we hunt and the wizard are connected. I see that now."

"Tell me all you know!" Aragorn commanded.

"Long ago, five wizards were sent to Middle Earth to help in the struggle against Sauron. Three of them you knew. Gandalf the Grey, Saruman the White and Radagast the Brown were the ones who stayed in the west of Middle Earth. The other two were blue wizards who went to the eastern lands," Celeborn explained. "As we have seen with Saruman, it is possible for wizards to become corrupted with a need for power."

"So it is a blue wizard?" asked Aragorn.

"I had heard rumors long ago," continued Celeborn, "that one of the blue wizards had become greedy for power and tried to make slaves of the eastern peoples. The other blue wizard stepped in, however, and managed to banish him from the lands after much strife and warfare. No one was certain of where he went once he left the east. There was word that he was seen heading to the north and that he took a new name for himself."

Now Legolas's eyes became wide with understanding. "The Red," he stated as he now remembered the warning that Radagast had given Gilraen. Lord Celeborn looked at him and gave him a nod.

"What would a wizard want with Gilraen?" asked Aragorn as he tried to understand this new information. He had thought that this was just a case of an unscrupulous man who wanted to take advantage of a maiden or that perhaps he wanted to ransom a King's daughter. More dread was filling his heart as he began to suspect that there was more going on in the north then he could have ever imagined. Having a wizard for a foe was no small matter.

Celeborn now looked at Aragorn carefully. "You have been apart from Gilraen for many years. You do not realize the gifts that are hers."

Aragorn now began to feel a bit of anger. How dare he say that he does not know his own daughter? "Tell me the meaning of your words," he bit out.

Celeborn was unaffected by his anger. "You see her through a father's eyes. She is your child, to love and cherish. You wish to make her life happy and carefree. That is a father's greatest wish, but that wish can blind you to what is unpleasant to face. Gilraen has the gift of foresight. She has dreams and visions of things that will come to pass. Many of these visions are not pleasant or happy. I have done my best to help her when these times occur. She cannot see all that will happen to her, but these things she does see have been like the pieces of a puzzle to be fitted together."

"What has she foreseen?" Aragorn asked. The foreboding filling his mind was almost unbearable.

Celeborn looked at him silently and did not answer.

"What has she foreseen?" Aragorn almost yelled now. "She will die? Is that what you are trying to tell me?" The King was almost frantic now.

"No!" stated Celeborn. "But many others will. She did not foresee her own fate." He recalled all the visions of bloodshed which Gilraen had shared with him and his own frustration increased that he could not do anything to prevent these things from happening.

"Why was I not told of this before?" Aragorn said in anguish.

"It was her wish not to burden you. We did not know when these things would come to pass. It could have been a hundred years from now," Celeborn said regretfully. He felt partly to blame as well. He thought that by staying near her and watching over her, he could prevent such things from happening to her. He loved her as if she were his own daughter.

Celeborn did not tell Aragorn everything. He knew he had given Gilraen much of his knowledge. He had been feeding her mind with things that had taken him thousands of years to learn. To him it felt as if he were leaving his legacy behind with Gilraen so that when day came in which he would leave for Valinor, he would know that his wisdom could continue to aid others through Gilraen. She would be the wise one that all would come to; just as many had sought him for his wisdom in times of need.

But he did not foresee how his knowledge in one so innocent could be turned against others. He knew now that the wizard would use Gilraen for all she knew. He shuddered to think what would happen to Gilraen when she was no longer of use. His guilt tore at him but he did not reveal this to anyone. He had to focus on getting her back safely. He knew he would never rest again until she was safe.

A bitter cold wind hit their faces and they turned their attention to the clouds once more.

"He wishes to cover the trail so we cannot know where to follow!" said Legolas. "Let us hurry and track as far as we can before all signs are lost."

The King nodded and turned his horse north once again. As he did so, the snow began to fall.

-

Gilraen sat upon a horse in which Falcroun had insisted she ride. It was tethered to his own so that she did not have control of it. Even if she were to entertain riding off or even running away she would be recaptured as she was surrounded on all sides by the ice men. Ciril rode in the lead, casting glances back at her often.

They rode at a steady pace through the snowy weather and Gilraen wrapped her borrowed cloak around her more snuggly. Her ball gown and thin slippers under the cloak provided little heat and she shivered as the icy winds began to blow across her cheeks. She was thankful for her elvish blood at the moment as she knew that she wasmore resistant to cold than she would have normally been had she been only of Dunedain blood.

Gilraen was surprised to see so many ice men meeting them along the way. From behind trees and rocks they seemed to appear. Ciril would speak to them in their own rough tongue and they would disappear again. She knew he was setting up some sort of ambush for her father. Gilraen closed her eyes and tried to make any connection with her family that she could. She could not sense that they were near yet. No one answered her mental pleas. She prayed that they would come for her, yet she also prayed that the ice men would not succeed in harming them.

They were traveling ever northward and the ground was being covered more and more with the layers of snow. She could hear Falcroun whispering to himself and she suspected that he had something to do with the sudden storm which had blown in. A hopeless feeling filled her as she thought of how much power he must have to do such a thing. How would she ever get away from one such as him?

Soon a large village came into view. The dwellings were all constructed of animal hides, some bigger than others. The wind was becoming more bitter and it was hard for them to continue to see very far.

Ciril came riding back to Falcroun. "We can stop here for shelter," he yelled above the screeching of the wind.

Falcroun looked at him, "This village is not very friendly towards us."

"They will let us in," yelled Ciril, "or we shall have to force them to show some hospitality." He turned his horse and led them all towards the heart of the village. Doorway flaps which had been secured against the storm now opened slightly as the villagers looked out at the new comers. Gilraen noticed no smiles or no greetings of welcome being directed towards them.

In the midst of the village was a very large communal tent which seemed lit with a most unnatural bright light. Like a beacon it beckoned them and they rode on towards it. Gilraen wondered how many fires had to be lit in order for such a light to be made.

Ciril jumped down from his horse and strode inside the large tent. They all waited on their horses until he came back out again. When he did, he walked up to Falcroun and said, "They have agreed to give us shelter until the storm has ended. There is a covered enclosure for horses just over there. You take the girl inside and we'll secure the horses."

Falcroun dismounted and said, "Come Gilraen, let us warm ourselves by a fire." She followed him into the tent and felt a large wave of hot air blow against her. It was very warm in here. She looked around at the villagers who sat by the fire. Up until this point she had only seen ice men before. Now for the first time she saw their women and children. They looked at her curiously as she took off the old fur cloak and laid it aside where Falcroun had put his. They had never seen a girl like Gilraen before and they stared openly at her.

Gilraen wished she could speak to them in their language as she would have liked to leave them a message for her father when he passed this way. Perhaps she could get through to them somehow. She began to think of ways to do so as she sat down with them near the fire. She could feel that they did not welcome them completely and only seemed to be tolerating them. She tried to smile a little at the children but was met with blank stares. Falcroun sat not very far behind her and remained silent.

This room was only part of the tent as Gilraen could see hanging flaps in the middle of the room which concealed another section of the shelter. It was through the cracks of these hides that Gilraen could see the bright beams of light that she had also seen from the outside. Her curiosity was peaked as to what could possibly make such a glow.

Now Ciril had returned with some of his followers. Gilraen assumed that the rest of them must have taken shelter with some of the other villagers. Ciril stopped and looked at Gilraen and Falcroun. Then he turned to one of the villagers and spoke to them in their language. A man answered him and pointed to the lit up portion of the tent. Ciril strode over to the flap and lifted it, causing all to squint their eyes at the brightness glaring forth. He dropped the flap behind him and once again the room in which Gilraen sat was lit only by the firelight.

Her mind was filled with the thoughts of this light. It was so bright, unlike anything she had ever seen before.

She felt a mental push in her mind and she turned around to glance at Falcroun. He had a slight smile on his face as he watched her. This look disturbed her and she turned her face away.

In another blaze of light, Ciril appeared again. He held open the flap and called out. "Falcroun, come, you must see this."

Falcroun rose and said, "Come Gilraen, I know you wish to see as well. But perhaps you have already seen it."

She looked at him strangely as she rose to her feet, unknowing of what he spoke of. Trailing behind him she came into the bright room, squinting until her eyes adjusted to the brightness. When the wizard moved out of her view she froze with the sight that now met her eyes.

Sitting on a decorated wooden dais sat a Silmaril, shining it all its splendor and power.

She knew that it was this jewel, for she had seen it in the mind of Lord Celeborn when he shared his thoughts with her in Lorien.

Her mouth opened in wonder and amazement. How could it be? The Silmarils were all lost somewhere at the bottom of the sea.

Falcroun now asked the question she had in her mind as well.

"Where did they get this?" he said.

She could hear Ciril asking them about it in their language. She heard them reply to him as she continued to stare at the magnificent light. So this was the light from the trees of Yavanna! It did not seem real.

She then heard Ciril say, "They say that some of their hunters found it way up north. A small island of drifting ice was floating in the bay and it was glowing strangely. They took a boat out to it and began to chip at it until they found it. They think it was a sign from their God. It seems that they worship it now." Ciril gave a mocking laugh. "Fools."

Ciril looked over at Gilraen's face and could see how impressed she was with it. "Perhaps you would like it for a wedding gift my dear," he laughed.

She gasped and left the room, making her way back to the fire.

That night her dreams were filled with strange places and strange lands. She saw the face of her great grandmother, Galadriel. She seemed to be speaking to Gilraen, but Gilraen could not hear what she was saying.

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