Part 19:

The sun was rising as the twenty-eight riders stood, armed and ready, in a line surrounding the Lorien clearing, the single Ent and two centaurs beside them. True to his word, three days had passed and Elrond had gotten his army ready for battle. They stood, their faces fierce and determined, the reminder of their families and loved ones all they needed to remember that there was still a Middle-earth to save for their children. Alongside them, Galadriel had summoned an Elven-army of one hundred, led by Haldir himself. Meeting them in Gondor would be another army, comprised of Elves and men.

Galadriel stood before them, shadows crossing her lovely face. "Many of you have questioned why Elrond and Nuhision decided to stop here in Lothlorien, so far out of your way. It seems that evil never dies in Mordor, and they wanted you to rest, to think, to ponder why we are sending you into war a second time. Zycrah is a force to be reckoned with . . . she is waiting for you, fully aware of your presence. Many new enemies will accompany her on her fight against peace. You must be ready, my brothers. I am sending a contingent of one hundred Elves with you . . . they are the best that we have. Perhaps we will never completely eliminate evil from our world, but years of life have told me that joy is not joy without sorrow. Some of you, many of you . . . may never come back. For that, I give my condolences and sorrow in advance. It is a desperate cause, true . . . but you are the strongest and best that Middle-earth has. You will defeat her. I have seen it."

A cheer rose from the assembled riders and the leaves flew with the sound.

Elrond stepped in Galadriel's place. "Say your goodbyes, my friends."

Arwen kissed Aragorn, quickly yet softly. "I will see you at the White City with the Alliance of Elves. Take care, my lover."

Aragorn held her to his chest, his breath ruffling her hair. "You have my promise that we will meet again."

Gandalf patted Frodo's shoulder. "Well, old friend, off to save the world again, so it is." He said it heartily, but his face was troubled.

Frodo smiled, an old, tired smile seen rarely on his lips now . . . it was the smile of suffering that he had worn for so long during the War of the Ring. "You are the greatest wizard in Middle-earth, Gandalf. If anyone can defeat this devilry, it is you. And I am confident that Middle-earth will see many more long years, living far after we are all under the grasses, souls in time and space." His lips twisted in grief. "Take care, my friend. My thoughts and heart are with you."

Gandalf nodded several times, tears dropping from his blue eyes.

Gimli wrung his lady's hand in thanks and sorrow. "You have been my reason for living, so long over these years when I thought my friends had left me. I am glad we met again, my lady Galadriel."

She smiled at him. "You have a strong heart, Gimli, son of Gloin. You will do our world proud; and I will always remember your chilvary and kindness. I go to the Grey Havens tonight . . . my time here is over. Lorien is in the hands of my descendants. Go, save our long-fought-for peace, and settle in your cool, dark caves. You will live happily, my friend."

Elladriel was crying. "I am so frightened, Legolas . . . what shall I do if you perish?"

Legolas looked at her, his voice harsh. "You've never been afraid before. Gather your strength, Elladriel. Keep Ashira well and take care of my homeland. I will come back; I will not perish." His face softened. "Besides, you know how much I love you. Will that not be enough to keep me strong?"

She sniffled. "Yes . . . I believe in that if nothing else."

"Then go home; bar the palace and set a triple guard. I will be home to you soon."

She embraced him, tears wetting the front of his tunic. "Namarie, mellamin . . ."

"Not farewell. Only until we meet again." He kissed her swiftly, then mounted, dropping his eyes to hide the tears forming in them.

Elrond gave the signal; the Elves of Lothlorien began to sing, and the assembly moved off.

They travelled, days and days of hard riding conditioning them, making them strong. Nightly Nuhision held training sessions with his Rohirrim and anyone else who wished to hone their battle skills. The plains gave way to rocky hillsides and the air nipped at their cheeks as they climbed, higher in elevation.

It was a month before the pillars of Osgilliath were seen by anyone save Aragorn, whose kingdom they were staying in. They were tired, every single one of them, and subsequent Orc battles had not raised their spirits. Two Rohirrim were dead, one of them Nuhision's son. Willowfoot had stopped talking altogether, and the centaurs were grim. Gimli said nothing except to grumble, Legolas was silent, the Mirror-Elves were grave and Elrond and Gandalf were constantly locked in conference, heads bent together over the palantir. Had the Company lost hope?

Just before Gondor was reached, Gimli poked Legolas in the back. "I say, old friend, I don't remember Gondor having a queer spinning effect, do you?"

Legolas reined in Arod. "What are you talking about, Gimli?" He turned in the saddle to behold a very pale Dwarf under his fiery red beard.

"Just that - " but the sentence was cut off as Gimli fell heavily from Arod's back. The nervous Rohan steed sidestepped him immediately.

Legolas dismounted. "Elrond! Gandalf! Stop! Gimli has fallen!"

Elrond turned. "Then tell him to get back up! We haven't got time for a rest right now. He'll have to wait until we reach Osgilliath!" The elven-king's voice was irritable, showing the strain of a month's hard riding and planning. Even Gandalf looked annoyed and the eighteen Rohirrim stopped, their scowls enough to curdle new milk. The Lorien Elves stopped, but they didn't change expression.

Legolas shook his head, golden locks flying. "No! He hasn't fallen off! He's sick!" He laid a hand on the Dwarf's cheek. "He's as cold as ice!"

Elrond came running up then, followed closely by Gandalf, Aragorn and the elven-twins. He, like Legolas, put his hand on Gimli's face. "It is the altitude. He is not as young as he once was. As soon as we reach Gondor, he can rest and I will brew him a draught to chase away the vertigo he is feeling." He turned away. "This could not come at a worse time."

Legolas sighed, knowing this to be true. "I'll walk beside Arod - Gimli can lay over his back."

Elrond nodded and helped Legolas to lift the Dwarf onto the grey horse. "We are almost there, anyway."

And the assembly rode on.

TO BE CONTINUED