1Disclaimer:Once again, I do not own the angels or the Lord of the Rings. I hope everyone is content with that.
Chapter Two
'Perhaps now I know how most humans feel when I tell them I'm an angel,' thought
Monica.
"The two of you sure are strange. You didn't know elves lived in Lothlorien. Ai, it's the fairest kingdom of our people remaining in Middle Earth."
"Well, it certainly is nice," Tess admitted. Their guide smiled and led them off down a path.
"I am a servant of the secret fire, the wielder of the flame of Arnor," Gandalf, the wizard cried. Directly behind him, Andrew and Caitlin exchanged glances. This was Caitlin's fist assignment as a caseworker, and Andrew was there for support. What a way to start off, Andrew thought: a completely different world. Neither angel was certain what Caitlin's assignment was. Andrew had been assigned as an angel of death, but whose was yet to be determined.
"You shall not pass!" Gandalf shouted again as he smote the bridge in front of him. The monster before him swayed as he fell into the dark chasm. Just as he disappeared, his whip lashed out at the wizard's knees and caught him. Gandalf groped at the edge of the bridge, but couldn't get a good grip. He locked eyes with those of the members of the fellowship.
"Fly, you fools!" he said, and then he was gone. Andrew, invisible to the other eight members of the fellowship, plunged after the wizard. The rest of the group stood frozen behind Caitlin. For what seemed like forever, the eight free people stood rooted to the spot, too shocked to move. They simply stared at where they had last seen their leader. Caitlin realized that she had to do something, so she approached their new leader, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and placed her invisible hand over his mouth. She kept it there for only an instant, but when she removed it, the man awoke from his trance.
"Come quickly. We have lingered here too long," he said. The fellowship followed him away from the bridge, still dazed. Before long, they were outside in the glorious sunlight.
"Accursed sun that shines so bright on a day such as this," cursed the dwarf, Gimli, as the fellowship succumbed to grief, some collapsing on the rocky ground, some only standing in horror.
"Perhaps the gift of light is meant to comfort you in your loss," Caitlin ventured, her French accent washing over the land. She made herself visible to their eyes and they turned to her. The dwarf readied his axe, but was prevented by Aragorn.
"Stay your axe, Gimli, until we know this woman's purpose."
"She is not a servant of the enemy," declared a fair voice from behind Caitlin. The angel turned to see a fellow with long blonde hair and river-blue eyes. "I do not know her purpose, but I am certain that it is for good. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil," he said, bowing to the angel.
"My name is Caitlin. I was sent to watch over all of you. You are very precious to many people," she replied. She debated telling them she was an angel, but was not certain that all was in place for this revelation, so thought better of it. After all, they had just met.
"Mae govannem, Caitlin. We have just endured a great loss, so you must forgive our . . ." Aragorn groped for words. Caitlin noticed Legolas was trying to hide tears that burned in his eyes.
"Amin hiraetha. Uuma nurta le nen o nin. I'm sorry. Do not hide your tears from me.," Caitlin said, guessing Legolas would be more comfortable if she spoke his own tongue, which she was surprised she knew. He was stubborn, though, and did not shed his tears. Aragorn sighed and refocused on the quest.
"Get them up," he said, gesturing to the small people who lay on the ground. "We must reach Lothlorien before nightfall." He went over to one of them and Caitlin approached the two who were sprawled together on the rocks.
"Would you like me to carry you?" she asked kindly. The blonde haired one shook his head.
"I can walk, my lady," he said, rising, but the other one stayed on the ground, sobbing as if his heart would break. Caitlin bent down and lifted him in her arms.
"It will be okay," she whispered encouragingly. She carried him to the makeshift line that was being formed. Aragorn and Legolas led the others, for they knew the way. So it was that the Fellowship of the Ring entered the borders of Lothlorien.
"Should we make camp for the night?" Monica asked their escort, who shook her head.
"We're nearly to Caras Galadhon," Estellin replied.
"Do you think they have Cappuccino?" Monica whispered to Tess. "I could use something to warm me up."
"I know what you mean, baby, but it's winter here. It's supposed to be cold."
"You should remain here until spring. Lothlorien is absolutely glorious then. The mallorn trees sparkle with golden flowers and the air comes from the sea!" Their guide spoke with such a passion that both angels were amazed. "Look!" she cried. Before them was a huge grove of trees, lit in the blue-silver twilight. This was Caras Galadhon. It seemed that now elf walked faster, a spring in her step, conveying her innermost delight.
"Has it been long since you were here?" asked Monica.
"Yes. I've been guarding the borders with Captain Haldir for quite some time." Estellin sighed, "Its beauty always astonishes me."
"It certainly is lovely," Monica observed, breathing in the sweet-scented air.
"Estellin!" called an elf, approaching from the direction of Caras Galadhon. Estellin signaled for the two angels to stay where they were while she spoke with this elf. After a few moments, she returned.
"Hurry! The lord and lady of Lothlorien wish to speak with you. Lorien has been watched closely of late, so special care must be taken in allowing outsiders to enter our land."
"That's understandable," Tess agreed, although she had no idea what was threatening this place. As of yet, she and Monica knew as little about what their assignment was as they knew of the elven tongue. Both angels followed their guide in silent confusion up a gorgeously lit staircase. To each side of them hung blue-flowered lamps which dazzled like stars. Monica nearly stopped to touch them, but Estellin's steady, yet graceful, pace urged her on. Below them, the ground began to fade into a colorful banner of leaves, as they ascended above the lower limbs of the mallorn trees. Then they came to a large circular courtyard, illuminated in the light of the setting sun. On a platform above them sat two figures, clad in shining white garments: the lord and lady of the Galadhrim.
"Who are you and what is your purpose in Lothlorien?" the lord Celeborn demanded, his voice straight. It was not stern or cold, but was far from warm and welcoming.
"I am Tess and this is Monica."
"We come as friends to help friends in a troubled time," Monica replied.
"Anyone may call oneself a friend, for surely even the dark one has those who would name themselves his friends. So tell me, should those friends be allowed to be sheltered from their enemies in Lothlorien while they plot the destruction of the world?"
"I assure you, we are not planning to destroy the world, nor are we in league with anyone who would," Tess said, beginning to get irritated.
"Words mean little. I know nothing of you, nor have I heard any rumors of you before today. The dark lord has many spies. Already they have conquered the minds of men. Has he become bold enough now that he would challenge the elven kings who have stood since before his first dominion?"
"I assure you, lord Celeborn, I know not of what you speak."
"I have heard enough. Guards . . ."
"These are no spies, my lord," the lady beside Celeborn interrupted him. "They are indeed allies, as they say they are. I have foreseen their arrival, but it took me a few moments to recognize them. The guards on the borders have been instructed, by my own command, to allow them entry into Lothlorien. There is no doubt in my heart, husband, that their purpose is for good."
"It certainly is," Tess agreed, looking straight at Celeborn.
"Then what is your purpose?" the lord demanded of them.
"We have come to help. You need the help of friends during this troubled time." The lady Galadriel nodded and spoke before Celeborn could.
"Go now and rest, for I fear your aid will soon be required," she advised. "We shall speak again soon."
"We cannot go any further tonight! The Halflings are exhausted!" Boromir argued.
"If we stop, we will surely be game for the goblins."
"You said nothing evil could enter Lothlorien, Aragorn." A few feet away from the two men, Caitlin was doing her best to ignore them and talk to the Father, but was having little success. Behind one of the trees, the smallest member of the fellowship hid from the others. He was the one Caitlin had carried into Lothlorien. She had since been informed, through his cousin Merry, that his name was Pippin. Caitlin approached him, plainly seeing that he was in tears. He looked up as he saw her coming.
"Thank you for carrying me."
"It wasn't a problem. Are you all right?"
"I just can't help thinking about what would have happened if I hadn't been so clumsy. One stupid move, on my part, alerted the orcs. If only I hadn't touched that skeleton, Gandalf would still be here. He'd be alive, smoking his pipe and . . ." Pippin collapsed, weeping. Caitlin gathered him into her arms.
"Everything happens for a reason, Pippin. Don't blame yourself."
"But it was my fault," he protested.
"Gandalf didn't blame you," Caitlin assured him. Her voice was so certain that Pippin didn't question her. He just held onto her, letting her arms bring comfort to him.
"Captain Haldir, the group is making camp in the trees. They have an elf of Mirkwood with them," one of the scouts reported from a nearby tree. Haldir relaxed slightly, but still held his bow firmly.
"The borders of our country are becoming too busy for my liking," he complained under his breath. In the dim light, he could see an elven figure climbing a tree a few feet away.
"Daro!" one of the guards shouted. The figure fell back in surprise. Haldir quickly climbed down from the tree to investigate the group that was now trying to enter the golden wood.
"This can't be good," Tess said, pacing back and forth on the grass.
"He probably just got lost," Monica suggested. Tess looked at her, doubtfully. Monica shrugged. Andrew wasn't known for being late. Then, in a glowing light, she saw him.
"Tess!" The other angel turned and smiled at Andrew.
"Just why are you late?" she asked, pretending to be mad. Andrew sighed and sat down beside Monica.
"Andrew, what is it?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. The angel of death sighed again. Then he spoke.
"We're going to have our hands full on this one."
Author's note:So, what do you think. I know it's a long chapter, but I couldn't find a place to split it up. Please read and review. Thanks.
-MornieGalad
