Blue sparks in woodland realm

Chapter 3: The wonders of Lothlorièn

A/N: I own nothing except my mistakes. Also, I have put everything Elvish into cursives. Even though it might be written in English, and it is meant as Elvish, I'll put it in cursives. Simply because I do not know how to say everything I want to say in Elvish, but like this you'll still get the gist. Hope you enjoy :)

They had marched onwards for what had felt like weeks, maybe even months or more, and all the while Legolas had not once given her a single glance, nor her sword. This amount of time might have felt long and dramatic for a simple Man, but in an Elven life, it was almost a blink of an eye.

Through grasslands they had manoeuvred, until at last Erynèth began to recognize the trees around her, the creaks ebbing away, and the whistles of the birds above her: Lothlorién, her very own home.

"We should heed warning," Erynèth spoke, but was quickly shut down. "If yer kin reaches so much of an arrow at me, I'll be quick to wield my axe," Gimli rolled, tightening the grip on his axe as his eyes squinted, flickering about the place.

Shaking her head, she fell lighter in her steps as she knew that if Gimli did not want to pay mind to her warning, than he might as well experience what she meant. With a smirk to herself, she could hear the rustle high above her in the trees.

To others, it had felt like a bird lifting off into the sky, to her, she knew exactly what was about to happen.

Without the breaking of a twig, they were surrounded by kin of her own, all raising their bows at her companions, besides from her. She was, after all, the daughter of Galadriel, one who none would easily lift their bows at, especially those of her own kind.

"Perhaps the dwarf should act as much as he speaks," Haldir said, leading the other Elves as protectors of these woods.

"Haldir of Lórien," Aragorn spoke, brave enough to stand up to the Elf. "We have come here for your help and protection."

At this Haldir glanced about the group, until his eyes landed on hers. "You have brought evil with you," Haldir spoke in Elvish to her, but then turned to Gimli as he said that they should leave now. "You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back. I will bring you, for she has been waiting for you."

All but Legolas and Erynèth were blindfolded, for they were Elves, and Gimli, a Dwarf, was not particularly welcome in these woods, lest he be blindfolded. The Men and Hobbits had been loyal enough to endure the blindness with him, but for Legolas and Erynèth, who were both already familiar with the woods about them, it was to no use. Not even out of courtesy.

"Iston I nîf lîn, Legolas son of Thranduil," ("I know your face, Legolas son of Thranduil,") Haldir spoke to Legolas as the three of them led the group, the other Elves having taken their position at guarding the borders again.

Legolas bowed his head as Haldir did, too. "It has been a while," Legolas agreed politely, though he strained a smile. "Gi nathlam hí, Legolas," ("You are welcome here, Legolas,") Haldir continued, though he must have noticed that Legolas his smile did not reach further than formalities, and so he allowed the Elf to fall back in step as he moved besides Erynèth.

"Le suilon, hiril vuin," ("I greet you, my lady,") Haldir spoke, but Erynèth chuckled as she propped him in the side with her elbow. "You know better than to use formalities with me, Haldir," Erynèth reminded him, and he tilted his head as he smiled at her.

"I had wondered if you had forgotten," Haldir said, but Erynèth shook her head. "Of course I had not, how could I have?" And smiled as he did, too.

For a long while, whilst Erynèth had been back at the land of her parents, had they roamed the borders together, guarding it with all their might. One would definitely lose formalities at a moment like that, when they had pried open a spider just to remove a leg of yours.

In silence they walked further, until they reached the top of a hill, where mighty Mallorn Trees, trees taller than any other, rose high into the sky. It gleamed, the twinkling of the late rays of a setting sun, and at last were the other companions unfolded from their blindfolds, and set in awe at the sight of it.

Upon the throne were her parents, and yet her mother's eyes did not even bare a welcoming glance her way. No, instead they were solely fixated on anyone in the group, anyone besides her.

"The enemy knows you have entered here," Celeborn spoke, and he did acknowledge her, as he gave her a bit of a pointed stare. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone." At this Erynèth lowered her gaze, never having been the type to hold his glance for too long.

"Tell me where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him." Celeborn asked, but her mother answered for him. "Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen to shadow."

At this Legolas took a step forward, bowing before he spoke. "He was taken by both shadow and flame. A Balrog of Morgoth, for we were needlessly into the net of Moria." At the latter Erynèth could hear his pain, as if he held some blame for it himself.

Galadriel, who had the gift to look into people's minds, glanced from Legolas to Erynèth, a smile hinting on her face before she spoke with the fellowship.

"Do not let your heart be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil." Celeborn said, and with that Elves came from the corners to guide the companions to a spare tree, where they were brought shelter and beds.

"Erynèth," her mother said, halting her in her steps, for she had been trailing behind the group.

Bowing, Erynèth turned to her parents, who had sat themselves back on their thrones when they had finished speaking.

"The fellowship has fallen," Celeborn warned her, and she knew what he meant to say with that. That she should perhaps consider staying here, where she would be safe, at least from further harm.

"It is not yet too late, Ada," Erynèth said, willing to show them that she would not be here to stay. She would be here to rest and let the sorrows of their hearts be freed, until they could march on again.

Celeborn went to speak, but Galadriel rose as she laid a hand on her husband's shoulder. "She will leave, nîn mel," Galadriel said, a knowing glance in her eyes as she approached her daughter.

Coming to a halt next to her side, she nodded off into the distance, where the group were assigned a place to stay, and a certain Elf was peering off the tree tops.

"You have withheld the truth, Erynèth. And now a darkness wells in your heart." Galadriel spoke, her eyes remaining fixated on Legolas, a curiosity twinkling in her face.

Erynèth, breaking away from the same eyeline as her mother, shook her head. "It is not the time for that now." She dismissed.

"He longs for you, Iellig," her mother went on, paying her protest no mind, but Erynèth did not want for her mother to continue. It was both a blessing and a curse to have a parent who could creep into the minds of others. And though she wanted nothing more than for her mother to tell her all about it, she knew that if Legolas indeed felt that way, that she would want to hear it from him.

"I do not wish for you to tell me his thoughts, Nana." At this Galadriel broke her gaze as she glanced at her daughter. "Nor his feelings."

Erynèth bowed her head at her mother. "I will go ahead and join them now, for we have travelled far, and are now weary by heart." With that Erynèth dismissed herself, and found herself tracing the familiar veiny trails downwards, until at last she ended with the rest of her companions.

Gimli had refused to accept anything that the Elves had offered him, but Erynèth figured that with time spent here, he would eventually loosen up. Aragorn had wandered off, needing some time for himself, and Boromir was sat with Merry and Pippin as Frodo and Sam had knicked a place in a far corner, grieving away.

Joining the ones that felt most approachable, she sat herself down on a wooden bench next to Merry, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, earning her a saddened smile. "He did not die in vain," Erynèth spoke, yet did not belief the truth in her own words.

Legolas had been right. They had needlessly been in Moria, and if perhaps they had avoided it altogether, he might have still lived.

"It is truly a beautiful home you have here, my lady," Merry said softly, apparently wanting another topic of discussion.

Smiling, she thanked him. "You can call me Erynèth, Merry. It would make me feel less burdened," she said, and the Hobbit nodded in acceptance.

"I do remember the first time entering these woods," Legolas began to say, attracting the attention from Merry, Pippin, herself and Boromir. "It had been a cool summer morning, not a crack of wind disrupting the trees."

Legolas smiled to himself. Though he spoke aloud, it seemed as if he wasn't talking to anyone in particular.

"It must have been more than 1500 years ago," Legolas spoke dreamily, staring off the tree tops, holding the set of clothes he had been given tightly in his hands.

At this Merry and Pippin shared a glance at one another. "Blimey, that's older than I'll ever be," Pippin said in surprise, earning him a chuckle from Erynèth, as well as a sideways smile from Legolas.

"They were singing, much like now," Legolas recalled, listening to the soft tunes of the lullabies. They were currently singing a lament for Gandalf, a quite saddened song, which made him shake his head slightly. "Yet, the tunes were much brighter then, I do remember."

"Silver cladded they were, much like what has been given me now," Legolas said, letting the garments in his hands unfold gently, and Erynèth felt her lips part slightly. She did remember it, too.

The linings on the cloth were handmade for Legolas himself, with special care and attention, for he had been a unique guest. He had looked beautiful, indeed. His hair braided in the finest of braids, his buttons beaded in a single ornament, each with a uniqueness of its own.

Erynèth had not come to think of how saddening it might have been, to be handed these similar garments, in such different circumstances.

At this Legolas cleared his throat, turning a bit more towards the others as he tipped his head. "I will get dressed now, for it would be impolite to not wear what has been given me," and with that he excused himself, looking at anyone but her, and she couldn't help but feel disheartened at that.

About four hundred years ago had she left him. And yet, to an Elven life, it had felt like what a year would feel like to a Man. It was all still too fresh, too painful. Not just for Erynèth, but for Legolas in particular, for he must have felt betrayed by her departure.

1600 years they had known one another, having met when they were just wee-Elves. Well, that was in Elven years of speech. They were both around 900 years old, much to the equivalent of teenage age for Men. They had been so young, so ambitious… so in love.

At that thought Erynèth swallowed as she averted her eyes downwards, fumbling with the necklace around her neck. It had been the most precious gift given to her, a thousand years ago. It had been a pledge for his love to her, for his loyalty to remain forever hers.

It had pained her heart, still, to wear this ornament around her, so close to her heart. It had been a sore reminder of what she had once had, but what was now gone.

Bracing herself down on the silken duvet, she pressed her eyes tightly shut, her hand still over her heart. Tonight, she would rest, but not in peace. No, for tonight she would ache, and hurt, for what was lost this night. Both her love for a special Elf, as well as a great grey wizard.

X – A MONTH LATER – X

It had been a necessary rest for the fellowship, and their hearts had begun to feel lighter and less weary. Their strength had come back, too, for they had begun to feel restless, and ready for their journey ahead.

For Erynèth not much had changed. After a few days of rest she had felt afresh and ready for a distraction of the mind, but above all, an escape from the lingering presence of a long lost love. She could not bear to be near him, but not with him, and thus she had offered to continue her task as a border guard at the northern woodside of Lothlorién, along with her old friend Haldir, until the fellowship would journey onward again.

It had been a nice change, to be with her own kin again, and to not feel like the odd one out. Here, she was respected and valued for her contribution to keeping the borders safe. Within the fellowship, she still felt as if she didn't really belong, no matter how much her heart was in it. After all, she had been a lady, and that of a powerful ruler as well. It did not make for an easy acceptance, although her heart was grateful for the young Hobbits, who did not seem to mind at all.

During the month she had noticed that the borders had become more restless, now that they had arrived here. They had needed more Elves to guard it, and her heart had almost begun to grow too heavy to depart with the fellowship, and leave her kin so vulnerable to the enemy.

Had it not been for Haldir, had Erynèth almost stayed behind. "You were not made for a life behind the border, Erynèth," Haldir said to her, his strong posture being held with every move he made.

His ears, pointer than most, were alert and aware, even as he turned his back to her, moving to behind the tree top to retrieve something. "I will stand guard in your place, until you safely reach homewards," he continued, slowly moving from behind as he joined her side within the fellowship.

They were currently being led to the boats near the river. Even Galadriel and Celeborn had joined them down this road, coming to bear gifts for the journey ahead, already exchanging them with the rest of them.

"I had noticed you're missing an essential weapon for an Elf," Haldir said, a knowing smirk tugging on his fair lips. "And I did not trust your journey ahead, without this by your side."

At that he handed her a bow as he lowered himself to one knee out of respect. "The finest bow we've made so far, hand-carved by the finest choppers in these lands," Haldir spoke, his head kept low until she would take the bow out of his hands, and inspect it from up-close.

Feeling rather humbled, she bowed her head in return to Haldir, something uncommon for a lady, but Erynèth never had quite the mannerisms of one. "I do not know how to thank you, Haldir," she spoke earnestly.

At this the younger Elf smiled at her, a warm hand resting itself onto her shoulder. "You can thank me by coming back safely," he said sincerely, a seriousness dwelling in his eyes.

Solemnly she nodded her head. "I will do everything in my power to come back home," Erynèth pledged, laying a hand of her own onto his shoulder. "Na lû e-govaned vîn," ("Until next we meet,") Erynèth spoke softly, and Haldir squeezed her shoulder. "Galk, Erynèth," ("Good luck, Erynèth,") and with that released her shoulder as he took her into his arms, a tight squeeze along with it before he moved himself soundlessly to the back, joining her parents at their sides.

The rest of them had gotten in the boats already, and Erynèth bowed one last time to her parents, and though they looked a bit solemn, a sense of pride twinkled in their smiles, enough to get her stepping into the boat, joining the only spare seat in the four boats given to them: in front of Gimli, who had been seated in front of Legolas, and for once, he had not uttered a protest, for he was still in awe with Galadriel.

On they had rowed, as they were waved off by the three at the shore. "I meant to give you this," Legolas said, catching Erynèth by surprise. She had not expected for him to talk to her, let alone with a dwarf in between them.

"I best hope yer not talkin' about me," Gimli uttered through his awe-struck dialogue.

Erynèth wanted to smile at the dwarf, to ease his worries, but when she caught eyes with Legolas, she could not bear to do so. There was still a bitterness in his distant eyes, but something had changed within him in those woods. For how long that would last, she did not know, but she hoped it were to stay.

"I was wrong to take it," Legolas admitted, as he handed her back her long, slim sword, hand-made by her own kin.

"You were," Erynèth said, once she had regained her voice. Reaching her hands over Gimli's head – the said Dwarf grumbling as he watched the exchange above his head, protesting in the midst of it – she took the sword back from him, and dipped it back in its sheath.

"The danger you put yourself in…" Legolas said, his eyebrows furrowing together, his eyes slowly travelling from the waters below to her eyes, holding them captivated for the first time since ages. "I could not bear the thought of losing you."