Chapter 2: Changes
Having dressed in a beautiful new ice blue robe Nestor had given her, with silver pumps, and a dark blue belt that looked almost black like her hair. The buckle of the belt was an intricate Mallorn leaf made of mithril. Nestor wove a silver chain through her hair while Galadwen ate down another feast. After Nestor had given her approval, she then set off for the Great Tree with Nestor at her side. Climbing the grand stairs, Galadwen used the smooth delicate handrail to steady herself as her body struggled with the effort. She was glad that court was held on the First Landing, only a third of the way up the massive tree. A third of the way up the King of All Trees was taller than all other trees in Middle Earth, outside of Lothlorien. Or so Galadwen had been told. She knew that it was the tallest tree in Lothlorien, but having never ventured beyond the borders of the forest, she had never seen, except glimpses in her visions, trees so small. Nestor was right, it was time for her to finally see the rest of the world.
At her slow pace, they finally rounded the last corner to stand on the landing. Galadwen could see her mother over the heads of the elves who attended court. Her white blonde hair shone nearly as bright as the intricate mithril crown on her head. She sat on her throne, next to Celeborn, on the dais at the far end of the landing. It was called the First Landing, but it was more like a small amphitheatre worked into the tree's trunk. Galadriel had created it herself, by singing to the King of Trees, asking him to form to her desire.
Galadwen leaned against a pillar near the entrance to catch her breath and borrow strength from the smooth bark at her back. The new skin on her shoulder itched, but Galadwen refrained from scratching it as she listened to a Captain give a report on the border's security. She was glad to hear there had been no sightings of orcs along the border, nor from any scouts sent half a day's ride out beyond the forest. As the Captain continued, Galadwen saw the army still had no idea why the attack happened. She wasn't surprised that Galadriel hadn't shared her suspicions with them. She had kept Galadwen's gift a secret from all but Celeborn in an attempt to protect her daughter.
That didn't stop others from noticing something was different about Galadwen. Whether it was her parentage or something else, she had always been treated differently by others. Never feeling welcomed into the community as a child meant she'd discovered comfort in her own company at an early age. Her longing desire to be included had changed quickly with the arrival of her gift. She had realised that even if she was included, she would never be a part of them, not with the things she saw. But there were now more important things to be concerned about than finding her place amongst the elves.
The Captain, in his brilliantly bright golden armour, had stepped down from the speaking podium and the crowd had started talking in hushed voices. With a deep breath to steady her nerves and weak body, Galadwen pushed herself off the pillar and made her way slowly through the crowd, to stand in front of her mother and Celeborn. The crowd had hushed as she passed them and now waited in curious silence. Both her mother and Celeborn's emotions were masked by well-practised passive expressions, but Galadwen could see fear in her mother's eyes.
"My Lady. My Lord," Galadwen said in a clear voice as she bowed as low as her weak body would allow her. "I have come to ask your blessings for my first venture outside of your fair lands. I wish to see more of the world I have seen in only songs. To get a taste of adventure and sate my childhood dreams, I will travel alone from here to our cousins in the north."
"I see your certainty of heart," came Galadriel's voice in her mind. "But I must ask, why are you really leaving?"
"I want to start changing the future instead of just seeing it. To do that, I need to leave here."
"Dear Galadwen, if you leave Lothlorien, never again shall you see the mallorn trees," came her mother's voice in a sombre tone. "I fear for you, my child. If you must go, I will give you the time you need to prepare."
"Thank you, Mother, for your warning," Galadwen replied telepathically.
The speed of the telepathic conversation was such that only a short pause, enough to take a breath, was experienced by her body and those around her.
"The recent attack and my own brush with death has given me the haste of a mortal to do those things I have only dreamed about. As soon as my body has the strength, I will begin preparations to travel alone."
"You have our blessings brave Galadwen. But tell me, which of our cousins do you plan to visit?"
"I wish to see both Rivendell and Mirkwood, but I have not decided who to visit first."
"We will do what we can to assist you on this journey you have set your heart on," said Celeborn with a kind smile and a dismissive nod. Her mother sat like a beautiful and powerful statue, not a single muscle had moved since Galadwen had come forth.
"Thank you, my Lord, my Lady," Galadwen replied with another deep bow. Rising, she turned and the crowd parted to let her through. On many of the faces in the crowd, she now saw surprise, shock, and in some even a little admiration. To take her first journey beyond the borders alone, was either very brave or very foolish. It seemed some had already decided one way or the other.
At the back of the room, Nestor gave her a warm smile then stepped forward, offering her arm. Galadwen gratefully took it before making her way unsteadily back down the stairs. When they finally reached the bottom, Nestor led her over to a bench formed into the trunk of the King of Trees. Galadwen sat down in relief.
"You did well my child," Nestor said, patting her gently on the knee. "We'll go over your plans in detail later. But for now tell me, do you have the energy to climb our home tree, or would you prefer staying in the guest room for a bit longer?"
"I would much rather go home, but it may take me a while to make the climb."
"Then rest here awhile child. I will collect your things and have a meal and your bed ready for you at the top." With another pat on her leg, Nestor stood and glided away towards the guest rooms.
Galadwen leaned back and closed her eyes, listening to life move around her. With her head resting against the trunk, she could even hear the life of the King of Trees as it flowed through its limbs to a slow steady rhythm. Her body started to relax and slow to that same rhythm. She felt more than heard the years of the tree. Each ring of growth holding the evidence of its knowledge and strength gained. She stayed in this meditative state, letting her body rest and recover without allowing her mind to sink into the future. This was as close as she could get to a true sleep.
Her meditative rest was interrupted by the sound of someone approaching. Galadwen opened her eyes to see one of her mother's personal guards striding towards her. It was the tall guard who had lifted her onto the litter. She smiled in greeting. Small braids kept his long copper hair off his fair slender face. He walked with the restrained grace and power of a hunter in his silver armour. The blue cloak fanning out behind him, showing the curved sword at his hip.
He gave her a small bow. "I greet you a good day Galadwen. May I join you?"
"You are one of the guards who came for me," Galadwen said. "Yes, please sit." Once he was seated she continued. "I owe you and the other Royal Guards my deepest thanks. Without your help, I would no longer be in the land of the living. Thank you," she said, bowing her head to him.
"It was my honour Galadwen. I am just glad to see our efforts were not in vain. There were moments when I feared they were. You clung to life with a strength I have rarely seen before."
"I still have too much to do in this life to leave now."
"So do many that I have seen die from lesser wounds," he said while his penetrating gaze searched her eyes. "But I did not disturb your rest to debate why some die and others do not. I wish to ask you something." His tone and gaze told Galadwen that this was a test. Her answer would determine his next action.
She smiled in reply. "Of course, but first I must admit my own ignorance and ask your name."
He looked surprised. "My apologies," he replied. "It was arrogant of me to assume you knew who I was. I am Toron, currently of the Royal Guard."
Even Galadwen had heard of Toron. The famed traveller, whose many centuries had been spent exploring Middle Earth. His knowledge and books had been enough to impress even Nestor. "It is an honour to put a face to the famed scholar of Middle Earth," she replied. "What is it you wish to ask of me?"
Scared that she would fail his test, she prepared her mind to visit the future after he asked his question. It would be just a blink to him. "Why do you go to remote places in the forest for days at a time without any supplies?"
Galadwen was surprised at his question. She had been expecting something in regards to her mother. Her eyes closed and her mind quickly identified her three options. First, she could avoid answering by questioning his reasons for asking and he would leave dissatisfied. Second, she could lie and tell a tale about spending time with the trees, but he would not be convinced and would leave dissatisfied. The third option, and the most terrifying would be to tell him the truth. He would listen, seem to believe, then offer to help her prepare for her journey. She thought of all he could offer her to help. He was an elf nearly as old as her mother, who was known to have travelled extensively. Galadwen knew that there was no choice. As terrifying as it was, she would have to tell him. But at least she could see he wasn't going to call her crazy or dismiss her. She opened her eyes.
"I have a gift," she began with a deep breath. "Only Nestor, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn know of it. Our Lady believed that if our enemies knew of it, they would desire it. She believed if knowledge of it got out, it would put me in danger, and after the orc attack, I can see now her fears were not unfounded."
"Are you telling me you believe that the orc invasion was because of you?" he asked in disbelief.
"Do you not think it strange that our whole army could not find me in our own lands after days of searching? Yet after only hours within our border, the orc horde somehow stumbled across me."
"Yes. That is why I'm here. To find out why our best trackers could not track you. What are you hiding?"
"My gift." He looked sceptical. Galadwen knew she had to tell him but it was harder than she thought. Other than Nestor, she had never told anyone before. With her new resolve, she took a deep breath and spoke the truth.
"I can see the future. Not the usual glimpses or prophecies, but a hugely complex web of endless possibilities. Every choice that anybody makes could change the future and all those choices make different paths that split, cross and merge like a tangle of vines. I see all of this every time my body sleeps. I have spent days asleep, searching far into the future. But the further in the future I travel, the less connected I am to my body. If someone came across my sleeping body and I did not wake at their approach or at their touch, it would cause concern. An explanation would be required and soon my gift would be general knowledge. So I hide.
"But then if say a horde of orcs came across me, I would not hear them coming. If a battle raged around me, I would not hear it. If I was shot with a poisoned arrow, I would not feel it until I was near death. Even then I would not feel any pain, only the fading of my connection to my body as it died."
"Did you know I would come to speak to you?"
"No. I prefer not to focus on myself. I am more concerned with stopping the darkness that is starting to creep back into this world before all life and hope is lost. I have been following the futures of the leaders of all the peoples of Middle-Earth. Those with great power such as our Lady, to find the path that could defeat this darkness. But recently I have discovered that the future may not lie with the great and powerful leaders, but with the small and insignificant. The unlikely heroes."
"That is why you are leaving?"
"Yes. For so many years I've only watched the future, now I wish to start acting to help change it. Perhaps that is the key to beating the darkness. To do what you can, even if it is small and seems insignificant."
"That is quite noble of you, but if your gift is such a great secret, why now do you tell me?"
"I used my gift to answer your first question," she replied. "I saw the gravity of it in your eyes, so I viewed my options to find out why."
"So you know what I will say?"
Galadwen nodded in response.
"I didn't even know I was going to say it." She could see in his eyes that he finally believed her.
"Please," Galadwen said with a smile, "I would like you to ask me anyway."
With a deep breath, he spoke. "Too many elves lock themselves within their lands and ignore the world outside unless it comes crashing through their borders. We are a part of Middle-Earth, and its problems affect us, whether we admit it or not. When I have finished serving Our Lady and Lord, then perhaps I will follow your example and head back out into the world to do what good I can. But until then, I will do what I can from Lothlorien. I believe that includes helping you prepare for your journey if you will accept my help?"
"Thank you Toron," she said with a smile. "To learn from you would be an honour I will gladly accept."
"The honour is mine Galadwen. We will start tomorrow. I will see you here at dawn. Or perhaps you already knew that." He stood up looking a little shaken and gave her a small bow. "Until tomorrow," he said before turning and walking away.
Galadwen smiled after him. Such kindness towards her was rare, so she couldn't help but take a moment to enjoy it. She did wonder why he was being so kind. He had treated her like everyone else, keeping his distance, never starting a conversation with her or even offering a greeting. He had ignored her existence like everyone else, until today. There were so many possible reasons why. She didn't know which had suddenly made her visible to him, but it didn't really matter. The only thing that truly mattered was her quest.
An audible growl from her stomach brought her mind back to the present. She still had another tree to climb today before she could eat and rest. Galadwen pressed her palm to the tree and send a thought of thanks to the King of Trees for his strength he'd lent her. Then with a deep breath, she pushed herself up. Her weak legs wobbled as she took small steps towards her home tree. It was not far, but on the way she passed elves going about their business as usual, one looked at her and another actually offered her a small nod. She nearly tripped and fell in shock at being acknowledged.
Arriving at her and Nestor's home tree, Galadwen pressed her palm against the silver trunk as she sent it a silent greeting. She could feel its steady strength fortify her body in reply. Starting up the wide graceful steps that spiralled the tree, Galadwen kept her palm on the trunk, its strength giving her the energy she needed to keep climbing. But barely halfway up, her wobbly legs tripped. Clinging to the handrail was the only thing that prevented her from falling.
Panting, Galadwen lowered her exhausted body to the stairs. Her recovering body demanded a respite. It had been a long day already. She stared past the slim railing to the elves gracefully moving on the forest floor far below and thought about the sudden change in their perception of her.
Since her announcement this morning, she was no longer ignored. Somehow they saw her differently, or perhaps it was because she now saw herself differently. As a child, Galadwen had felt the coldness of the other elves, which had made her retreat into herself and avoid their company. She would ignore them so as to prevent herself from being hurt if they ignored her. She had never reached out or made an effort to connect with anyone for fear of being rejected. That fear had shaped and consumed her early life, but now it was gone. Drowned out by a bigger fear. Her fear of the future and the impending void.
Galadwen realised that her first public appearance had been that very morning. Now the beautiful dress and the attention Nestor had paid to her hair all made sense. So too did the surprised reactions of the elves at court. She had been a known hermit, ignoring the existence of everyone. Until now. Surprised at the sudden change in herself, Galadwen thought back on all that had happened since her journey to find the end of the void. She had grown a lot since then, exposed in her latest decision to accept Nestor's advice and start acting to change the future. That last decision had brought her out of the quiet forest into the clearing for all to see. Something she had never thought she'd be brave enough to do. But her struggles in the void had given her a strength and determination that Nestor's question had directed towards action.
Recognising and embracing her mental strength, Galadwen used it to help her up the remainder of the stairs to the landing in the crown of their tree. Nestor was a prolific tree singer and was always asking their tree to change the layout of their house. She had been at it again while Galadwen was away. To her left was a table made of a large branch that split into two, creating a flat table surface before the branches continued up to form a low canopy over the table. From this canopy hung small globes of light. Chairs around the table were formed with small flexible branches weaved together. There was a food prep area beyond the table, with baskets hanging out of low branches to provide storage. Nestor's sleeping quarters were opposite the arch of the landing entrance, up a thick branch to a smaller landing. Galadwen's quarters were usually upon another landing to the right, but Nestor had sung a sleeping platform into the main landing which had her bedroll and night shift spread out on it. Nestor rightfully thought Galadwen too weak to climb further to her usual sleeping platform.
There was a large plate of fresh food on the table but Nestor was nowhere to be seen. Galadwen sat down in the nearest flexible chair, feeling it move to support her comfortably as she started to tackle the plate of food. After finishing a whole lembas bread, that was still warm in its leaf wrapper, she moved on to the fruit and nuts. The plate was easily cleaned up. Beside it was three lembas loaves stacked up. With a small twinge of guilt at her gluttony, Galadwen took the top loaf and started munching on it. Lembas was not typically a staple food source, usually being saved for the travellers or scouts and warriors on the move. But after consecutive days sleeping, Galadwen found the only thing that could curb her hunger and quickly return her strength was lembas.
Recently she had been spending more days in the future than the present. Only coming back to drag her starved body home and stuff it with lembas before heading back to hide in the forest and search the future. That was probably why her body was so weak. Finishing the lembas, she picked up the next one. She put her palm on the chair and hummed a soft tune. The branches of the chair complied with her request, moving back and lengthening under her until she was lying stretched out on the branches. Nibbling at the lembas, Galadwen closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the canopy. She could feel the life of the great tree around her, echoed in the young branches supporting her body. She sang a soft gentle song to them. A song of life, growth, change, and hope. She sang it as it came to her, so it was not a great song. But she could feel the trees appreciation by the movement of the small branches growing and winding around her arms.
When she finished her song, Galadwen opened her eyes to find herself encased in a cocoon of new shoots and silver green leaves. She finished eating the lembas while thinking back to the last time she had sung to the trees. She had left Caras Galadhon in the early hours of the morning, while the early autumn mist stifled any noise and hid her from view, should anyone have been looking. She followed the path north out of the city, then at the rising of the sun, climbed the nearest tree on her left. The further from the city, the smaller the mallorn trees were, with branches within arm's reach of the ground. Even closer to the border, other trees could be found scattered amongst the mallorns such as oaks and maples. Apparently, on the border, there was a ring of the forest with no mallorns in it, but she had not been that far out herself. Galadwen paused on a lower branch long enough to check no one was around as she hummed to the tree. It listened and bent its eastern branch so she could cross to the next tree. As she crossed, she hummed to the next tree to bend its eastern branches, continuing to travel in an eastern direction. When she was finally outside the range of elven hearing from the southern path, she started singing.
Travelling went quicker now, as each tree bent to her wishes before she reached it, then returned to its original position after she had passed. She leapt and swung from tree to tree for another hour until coming to a slight clearing with larger mallorn trees around its perimeter. One of them would do for a nest. She circled the glade, singing to the trees and gracefully leaping from one branch to the next, her cloak flaring out behind her. The tree on the far side of the glade had a suitable nook, sheltered from the weather and invisible from the ground. She crouched in the tree, palms resting against the trunk and began singing to it, willing it to enlarge the nook. It did so with soft groans and creaks. Galadwen curled up in the nook and willed the tree to close up around her, fitting to her body and leaving just her upper torso visible but well supported. She lifted the hood of her cloak over her face, closing her eyes and opening them to see herself asleep in the tree a moment in the future. She pushed her body away, coming out of the path that was her future to start searching the distance future of Middle-Earth.
That had been nearly two weeks ago now. Somehow the orcs had found her, but when she had woken she wasn't in the tree, she had been on the ground. She had never slept in a tree for so long, so maybe she'd outstayed her welcome and the tree had ejected her. Or perhaps her mother or Nestor had requested the trees of the forest to release her. She had heard of songs being sent out and passed from tree to tree, but she'd never seen it. That would be a great song to know. Perhaps she would ask Nestor to teach her one. As if her thoughts called Nestor, Galadwen heard movement outside her cocoon. She pressed her palms to the cocoon and hummed the branches to open. They opened into a chair, the new shoots and leaves fanning out around her like a butterfly's wings. Nestor was smiling from the entrance arch.
"Creating a new song child?" she said, coming over to inspect the chair.
"Just singing nonsense really. Trying to sort through my thoughts," Galadwen said with a modest smile.
"Ah that explains it, strong emotions bring out the most beautiful of work. You have a talent, my child."
"I have a great teacher."
"It took me many centuries to make something as exquisite as this. I feel the student has surpassed the teacher."
"There is still something you can teach me."
Nestor stopped her inspection of the chair and looked down at Galadwen with a curious smile. "Tell me, child, what knowledge do you wish of me?"
"Teach me how to ask the trees to pass messages."
"I have very little knowledge on that. It is a lost art."
"But you know a little."
"Yes child, I will teach you what I know. Though I fear it will only leave you disappointed in my limited knowledge. Lady Galadriel has more knowledge than myself, but as things are at the moment, I fear she is not in a position to teach you."
"I understand Mam. I'll just have to be satisfied with what you can offer. Where do we begin?"
"We begin with you eating that last lembas then getting some rest. I will teach you once I'm satisfied your body is fully recovered. That way, I know you will put as much effort into your recovery as you do into your study. Toron told me about your training," she said with a stern look. "I informed him in no uncertain words that he was not to stress you physically until I am satisfied you are healed. Tomorrow you will be brushing up on the living languages of Middle-Earth."
Galadwen wanted to argue but knew she would only sound like a petulant child. Knowing Nestor had her best interests at heart, she picked up the lembas with a smile for Nestor. "Thank you Mam. I did not want to turn such a generous offer down, but you are right, I'm not yet ready for any physical training. I'm also not yet ready for more rest, so perhaps you can help me understand Galadriel's words."
"Tell me, child," Nestor said as she took a seat at the table.
Galadwen repeated her telepathic conversation with her mother. "I think Galadriel believes this quest will be the death of me. I can think of no other reason why I would never return here. What are your thoughts?"
"I fear the same, my child. So please, do a favour for me." She reached across the table and took Galadwen's hand. "Although my heart yearns to, I will not ask you to stay in Lothlorien. Life is meant to be lived, and not to be locked away in a pretty cage. But tonight, please study your own future. You must be prepared for what may come."
"Oh course Mam, but I do not like dwelling on my own future."
"And nor should you child, for no true happiness can be gained from self-obsession. But for the desire of survival and self-preservation, it would be prudent to at least understand some of the dangers you face." She gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Do it for old Mam who loves you dearly and wants you to live a long life full of many adventures."
Galadwen squeezed Nestor's hand in reply, trying to transfer all her love and affection in that one touch. "I have no words that can adequately express my love and affection for you Mam. Thank you for all you have done for me."
"Thank you for giving an old elf a new lease on life. If it wasn't for you, I would have gone west or faded away long ago." With a final squeeze of her hand, Nestor stood up. "But we should both get some rest before I embarrass you by shedding a tear."
Galadwen smiled at Nestor's very mortal like emotions as she thanked her now throne-like chair for its support before standing and crossing the room to her sleeping mat. The lembas had given her body new energy, and after a rest, Galadwen knew she would have more strength than yesterday. But it would still take days before she was back to her normal strength, and even longer before she was at full strength, suitable for travelling. Something she had not been in many years. She had not been taking proper care of herself. Starving herself for days while she searched the future, then binge eating to increase her strength enough to do it again. She didn't have the luxury of doing that anymore.
Undressing, Galadwen folded the beautiful clothes with care before placing them on a bench. The exquisite clothes were the most luxurious things she had ever worn, a far cry from her usual rough earthy robes. These clothes were fit for royalty, not for her. She slipped into the rough brown shift that Nestor had left out for her on her sleeping mat and unwound the mithril chain from her hair, before tying her long dark hair up in a loose plat. She settled down on the sleeping mat, throwing a blanket over her to keep the chill off before closing her eyes and opening them mere moments in the future.
Galadwen woke before dawn with the images of her death fresh in her mind. She had seen herself die in many different possibilities, from being shot full of arrows to being beheaded. But the worst by far was when she was captured alive by orcs to be tortured until she died or broke. It brought tears to her eyes, remembering the pain her future self may face. Death was preferable to that. And it seemed death was more likely than not. There were too many dark things that would try to kill her. At first, she had been shocked and horrified at watching her own death. But the more possibilities she watched, the shock wore off and was replaced with sadness as she mourned the long life she would most likely lose with this quest. But she kept watching until that too was eventually replaced with a stoic acceptance. If she did not go on this quest, that same fate would come to all sooner or later, but she believed she had the power to make it happen later much for many. She would most likely die during this quest, but she had seen that there was much she could achieve before then.
Galadwen inhaled deeply, then with the exhale, she released those images from her mind. She did not need the reminder and could not afford the distraction. With a now clear mind, Galadwen sat up. She could hear Nestor preparing a breakfast for her across the landing. Opening her eyes, Galadwen saw the beautiful blue dress that she'd piled beside her had been replaced with her usual leggings, light grey robe and the cloak of her people. She dressed quickly, finding her body struggled less with the task than it had the previous day. After lacing her well-worn boots, Galadwen joined Nestor at the table. There was a plate piled high with food for her.
"Tell me, child, what did you see?" Nestor asked as Galadwen sat at the table.
"I saw pain, torture, and so much death. I never knew there were so many ways to die, or that there were so many things that wanted to kill me," Galadwen said with a sad smile.
"But it wasn't all bad was it dear?"
"No, there was life, smiles and laughter. I saw people happy, living and loving because of me."
"But what about yourself child? Did you see love and happiness for yourself?"
"I saw moments of happiness, and even love of new friends." She paused as a face came to her mind. It was a fair face of an elf, with strong features, crystal blue eyes and white hair. She had seen they would become friends but when she had just said love, his face had come to her mind and her heart started thumping wildly. "And perhaps something more," she finally finished with a frown.
"A someone?" Nestor asked with a hopeful smile. She could probably hear her heart beating wildly. Galadwen didn't respond as she swallowed the lump in her throat, and tried to calm her frantic heart. "Love comes to us all my child, we just need to find the one our heart longs for. It is thought that is the reason we elves are gifted with immortality. To have only one true love, we often have to search many mortal lifetimes to find that one." Galadwen could feel fear twisting her insides as her still thumping heart brought a flush to her face. How could she love someone when she hadn't even met them? What would this mean to her quest? Rising from the table, Nestor came around the table and lifted Galadwen's chin to look into her eyes. "Fear not child. With love, what will be will be." She smiled down at her with pure joy before kissing Galadwen on her brow. Nestor's words and her kiss eased Galadwen's fear. As her heart returned to normal, Galadwen listened to Nestor leaving down the stairs. She inhaled then exhaled, dismissing the image and thoughts of love from her mind like she had done with those of her own death. She did not have time for love either.
Galadwen focused on finishing her breakfast, feeling the improved strength in her body. Once she was done, the dappled light coming through the canopy was getting lighter, telling her dawn approached. Standing, Galadwen slowly started down the stairs to meet Toron. Despite the early hour, Galadwen caught glimpses of movement in the shadows as she listened to other elves go about their business. Dawn was usually the time for the elves' silent meditation after an hour or two of sleep during the darkest and coldest part of the night. But the many elves about this morning showed Galadwen how restless everyone was after the orc attack.
Toron was waiting for her beside the bench under the King of Trees.
"Good day Galadwen," he said as she approached.
"Good day Toron. I hope you did not wait long."
"Nay, I have just been relieved of duty. Shall we begin?" he asked.
"Please," Galadwen said with a smile. "Nestor tells me we will be doing languages today."
"Yes, she told me that too," he replied with a wry smile. "Let us walk and talk. Tell me, what is your current knowledge of the living languages?" he asked, gesturing for her to walk beside him.
"I'm afraid it is limited to the major languages that I was taught as an elfling. I have not studied since then so I fear my current knowledge will be even less than that of an elfling."
"Fear not, that knowledge will still be with you. We will just have to dig it up and bring it to the surface. First, we will revise the major languages today. Tomorrow will be learning the basics of some of the minor languages. Most of them are derivatives of other languages, so once you know which other languages each of them is derived from, it is easy enough to understand and pick it up as you go along. Many of the minor languages are very fluid and are changing with each generation, so it is more useful to learn how to pick up languages quickly than actually study the minor languages. This I will try to teach, but the best way is to practice. So after tomorrow, we will attempt to converse in a different language each day."
Galadwen listened to him intently as he led them out of the city. "How many languages do you know?"
"There are the four major languages that are taught to elflings; the common elven language of Sindarin, the high elven language of Quenya, the Dwarven language Khuzdul, and the common human language Westron. I also know the fifth major language, Black Speech, which many elves wish to believe is a dead language, but as recent events prove, it is not. It is not something that is taught, but I feel that is a mistake. We must know and understand our enemy to defeat them. I will teach you it when you are ready. But beyond the major languages, I know 58 minor languages and dialects that I believe are still living languages. And even more that have passed from this world."
Galadwen was surprised at the sheer number of living languages in Middle-Earth. How was she going to learn them all to communicate with anyone?
"But like I said, I will not teach you all the minor languages, only the basics of the most common ones and you will soon have the skills you will need to learn more." He gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. "Sindarin you obviously know. Well, at least the Lothlorien dialect. So let us start with Quenya."
"How do you fair with Quenya?" Toron asked her in that language.
"Quite well actually," she replied in Quenya. "Nestor is fond of telling stories in her native tongue."
He smiled at her before inquiring about Nestor's stories. Galadwen spoke fondly in Quenya of Nestor and her stories and songs. It was easy for her to speak in Quenya, especially about Nestor. Although Quenya was the native language of many of the elves in Lothlorien, it was not commonly spoken. Galadwen had only spoken it with Nestor since she was an elfling, so the language now had a special meaning to her. It reminded her of nights sitting with Nestor, listening to her many stories and songs as the moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting strange shadows that moved and gave life to the stories.
Toron had led them through the city, to the outskirts. As they walked, the city seemed to wake around them. The forest was lit with the golden glow of morning, turning Toron's copper hair a dazzling bronze. They stopped at the edge of a busy glade full of elves. The large forge in the centre of the clearing identified it as the Armory Glade. Galadwen could feel the heat radiating off the white hot fire in the forge from where she stood a dozen yards away. She wondered how the three elves working the forge could stand the heat. Around the edge of the glade, elves were working on various weapons. To their left were spears, across the glade were bows and arrows. Toron turned to their right, making a beeline towards the master swordsmith.
"If Nestor allows, we will start your weapon training next week," Toron explained. "But until then, you should get used to carrying a weapon at all times."
"A weapon?"
"Yes, you must have the skills to defend yourself. I will teach you the bow and sword, and if time allows the spear." Toron turned to the master swordsmith at work polishing a long sword in front of them. In just a leather vest, Galadwen could see he was very solid for an elf. His large muscular arms were tanned from years working at the forge. With his square jaw and a flat nose that looked as if it had been broken many times, he was a formidable sight. The only elf like feature about him was his pointy ears and long light brown hair that was braided down his back. "Good day Master Halon," Toron greeted him with a small bow.
The swordsmith looked up from his work. "Toron Westwind my friend, good day. What brings you here? Do you have more sketches for me?"
"Nay, not today Halon. I am after a sword for Galadwen here." Toron said, gesturing to her. Halon looked up at her from under his lowered brow. The shadows across his eyes and his unsmiling crooked face gave him a menacing look. Galadwen shifted uncomfortably under his gaze as he studied her for a long moment.
"I may have something that will be suitable," he said eventually. Halon rose from his stool, placing the sword and polishing cloth on the nearby bench before turning to the heavy chests behind him. He opened one and started to remove long bundles wrapped carefully in cloth. Each was placed gently on the ground beside him until the chest was nearly empty. Finally, he pulled out a bundle, his knuckles white in their grip as he bowed his head over it. Then, standing, he brought the bundle over to her. With reverent care, he unwrapped the bundle before them, revealing a sword of deadly beauty. The curved sword was similar to Toron's Lhang, but narrower, lighter. The long grip and curved blade were adorned with a pattern of simple but elegant beauty as it shone in the morning light.
"Dargorlin," Halon said as he offered her the sword.
"Battle singer," Galadwen whispered as she picked up the sword with awe.
"A hum you will hear when the enemy is near," he chanted. "May it serve you well, like it did my wife." The light shining off the sword as Galadwen turned it in admiration showed the glint of a tear in Halon's eyes.
"You honour me Master Halon." Galadwen didn't feel she deserved such an honour, but to question Halon's generosity would only insult him. "Pray, tell me what I can give you in return?"
"Naught but your word that you will look after her." Galadwen returned the sword to the offered leather wrappings and Halon slipped it into a sheath before binding it up in its wrappings with quick deft movements.
"You have it Master Halon," Galadwen said, as she took the offered bundle. Surprising herself, she gripped Halon's left shoulder with her right hand. "Many thanks."
Halon returned the grip on her right shoulder. Then after a gentle squeeze, he released her shoulder and turned back to his swords.
"Come," Toron said, gently taking her elbow and leading her around the glade to the archery area. Feeling the gentle pressure of Toron's hand on her elbow, it dawned on Galadwen that until moments ago, she had not touched another elf, with the exception of Nestor and her mother, since she was a very young elfling. It amazed her what a little physical contact could do. She suddenly felt included, accepted, and part of the community. Something she had never felt before.
As they drew near to the archery area, a tall female in dark leather approached them. With hair a shade near that of Toron's and a large warm smile, she embraced Toron in a tight hug.
"Toron," she said as they broke apart. "It has been too long since I laid eyes on your face."
He gave her a guilty smile. "Yes my dear sister, it has. How do you fair? How is Salab?"
"My husband and I are both well Toron, but I can see by your guilty look that you did not come here to visit me," the woman said as she gave Galadwen a questioning glance.
"Cullas, please meet Galadwen. Galadwen, this is my beloved sister Cullas, a master bow carver."
Galadwen clasped Cullas's offered right arm with her own. "Greetings Galadwen. You must be my brother's latest victim."
"Victim?" Galadwen asked.
"He only comes to visit when he wants something," Cullas said with a wink. "More often than not, it is something for someone he has taken under his wing." Galadwen gave her a confused look. "Toron has a love of travel and adventure, and when he can't travel, he gets pleasure from encouraging and training others to do the same. So come, let's get you a bow."
Cullas led her over to a rack of beautiful re-curve bows of pale wood with a unique silver engraving on each. They varied in length, shape and thickness. Cullas took a bow of the rack, held it up beside Galadwen, shook her head and put it back on the rack. She took another one off the rack, flexed it, and then returned it. The third bow Cullas picked up seemed to pass her test as she handed it to Galadwen.
"How does this feel?" Cullas asked.
Galadwen held it awkwardly in her hand, not really sure what she was supposed to do.
"I'll show you how to string it, then we'll get you a quiver. A back strap one I think would be best. I may even have one that you can attach a sheath to."
Cullas bustled around her archery stall, picking up a quiver, arrows, and other pieces of leather of unknown purpose. When she had her arms full, Galadwen followed her to the back of the stall, where Cullas showed her how to put everything together and to wear it comfortably so it did not hinder any movement. The weight felt strange on her back, but after a few quick adjustments, Cullas assured her it was as it should be.
"Right," Cullas said, stepping back to look her over. "You may find that you will need to braid your hair so it does not tangle in the quiver. Other than that, you are ready. Good luck."
"For what?" Galadwen asked.
"For my brother. He is a hard taskmaster. But it is only because he knows of the dangers out there," Cullas said. "He has had students quit on him before but if you listen to what he says and work hard, you will be fine."
"I will," replied Galadwen, shrugging under the weight of her weapons and Cullas's stare.
"Yes," Cullas agreed, studying her. "I do believe you will."