Chapter 6 - The Warrior

With all her study, Galadwen found the days slipping away. After the first week, Toron increased her weapons training to a full day. She now trained from dawn until dusk, with only an hour break at noon to eat and discuss what she was reading. Then her nights were filled with reading, singing to Laerorneth, and dreaming.

She progressed steadily with the bow and sword, but it was not quick enough for Toron. Each day he would push her harder and harder. The first few hours of the morning were filled with continuous, repetitive firing of arrows until her arms felt heavy with fatigue. Toron had her hitting multiple targets, then moving over and around obstacles while she did. As soon as she hit more targets than she missed, he would up the difficulty. Forcing her to work harder and fight through the feeling of never being good enough.

Practice with the sword was even more challenging. They would spend most of the day doing drills. Repeating the same set of strokes over and over before moving on to the next one. Then for the last hour, Toron would swap his sword for a practice one and attack. At first, she was disarmed or at sword point before she could even take a breath. After a couple of weeks, she could hold him off for a dozen strikes or so, but would receive plenty of bruises to her arms and body for the effort. By the end of the third week, she was only just managing to hold him off for a couple of minutes and had a feeling he was not attacking to anywhere near his full strength.

"If this was a real blade," Toron said to her one evening, as Galadwen limped out of reach of his sword. "You would be mortally wounded now. Missing an arm and possibly a leg. You must focus Galadwen. Read my body, predict what I'm going to do. I have taught you how to defend from each of these strikes. You do not have the luxury of learning from years of practice and experience. You must learn now."

"Yes Toron," Galadwen replied as she raised her sword in preparation for the next attack.

He came at her again. A blur of steel as the sword rained down on her, blow after blow. She blocked a couple, before taking a hard one to her shoulder. Stumbling out of his reach, Galadwen took a second to reset herself.

"You have skill enough to perhaps hold off an armed but untrained opponent," Toron said as she slowly circled him. "But against a skilled warrior, you would be no more threat than a piece of meat to wet their blade on."

In anger at his words, Galadwen charged at him, but with all her efforts, he calmly held her off.

"I do not say this to be cruel or callous," he calmly said as she continued her ferocious but ineffective attack. "I say them only to help you realise how futile the quest you have set yourself is. The enemy will not be as easy or forgiving as I am."

"Then don't be," Galadwen said between clenched teeth as she continued to try and find a way through his defences.

"As you wish," Toron said, with a thin smile. He stopped her sword with a swing of his own. The force of the two swords hitting sent a jarring shiver up her arm. Toron didn't give her time to recover. Instead, he went for the same spot on her leg as before. It was tender and Galadwen couldn't stop herself stumbling in pain, nearly letting her sword slip from her hands. Fortunately, she managed to hold on to it and raise it quick enough to block his next strike to her shoulder. His blows came quick and fast, as she struggled to block them all. More and more landed on her until one of his blows knocked her to her knees, followed by another blow that caused her sword to fly out of her fingers. Toron brought his practice sword down to rest on her neck.

"You are dead Galadwen," he said with a stony voice.

"Yes Toron," she replied between gasps for air. She blinked sweat out of her eyes. After an hour of fighting off Toron, she was covered in sweat and dirt, and feeling very mortal. It took a lot for an elf to sweat, but Galadwen was discovering that her mixed blood was very obvious with any extreme physical exertion. To put it simply, she stunk, even to herself. Meanwhile, Toron, who had been using a heavier practice sword, swinging it around with such speed, force and grace that it made Galadwen look a child, did not have even one hair out of place.

Toron lowered his sword from her neck and Galadwen collected her own sword.

"I think that is enough for today," Toron said, taking a step back.

"But it is not yet sunset," Galadwen protested as she wearily stood up.

"Yes, but you are exhausted," he replied.

"I am not yet too tired to give up." She stood at the ready.

"It is not giving up to know when to leave it for another day," he said, turning to leave.

"The days are short," Galadwen replied. "And I do not have an unlimited amount. I must learn." She drew strength into her, and with a battle cry, charged him.

In drawing her strength, she had drawn in her life force. It gave speed to her sword and clarity to her sight. Toron spun away from her first strike, and she followed him. His sword came up to block her second strike. She saw surprise flash across his face at the speed in which her blow came. It was followed by a look of realisation and a stony determination. If she was willing to use her life force in training, he would push her until she conceded.

Toron blocked her next blow, then spun out of her line of attack. The life force flowing through Galadwen prevented her from losing her balance at the sudden change in direction and gave her the speed to block Toron's blow as he came on the attack. His blows came at her, faster than they ever had before, but at each one, her sword was there to meet his. She dodged one of his blows and turned the attack back onto him.

The speed at which she moved surprised even herself. It was as if the world around her had slowed down. Almost like how she saw the immediate future. She thought that maybe the life force might help her achieve that which she had been struggling to do for the last couple of weeks. A waking dream. To see the future with one part of her mind while conscious of her surroundings with the other. Galadwen knew it was not wise to try such a thing now, but Toron had turned the attack back onto her with a speed to match her own. If she was to know her own worth, now was the time.

Galadwen closed her eyes and was suddenly in the immediate future. Toron moved at the same speed he had before but was one step ahead of where he had been. She was in the future but could still feel the sword in her hand in the present. She raised the sword to meet the strike she had just seen Toron take. But her action affected the future, and Toron blurred before her. In an instant, she saw that he was not blurred. There were two of him filling the same space. One was more faint. Like a shadow, that could move separately from him. It was not unlike the clear or faded paths of the future that she would follow. There were two possibilities for his next strike, one more probable than the other. She moved her body to defend against the more probable strike. And as she did, Galadwen saw Toron blur again. Her choices were affecting his next move. As she felt his sword hit her's, she watched his next move. There were three possibilities this time, although one was still more clear than the other two. She moved to defend it.

After a couple more strokes, always taking the most likely option, Galadwen felt her confidence building. It was becoming easy to defend against him. So taking what he had taught her, Galadwen sidestepped the next strike and parried with her own. With her decision to strike, Toron blurred to defend. With each of her strikes, she watched Toron blur as her decision affected his decision in the immediate future.

Together they spun, flashing swords and flowing bodies, in a graceful dance that Galadwen saw before she heard or felt it. Even moving as fast as they were, she still had time to marvel at the way her body moved. With the life force flowing through her, she had such speed, control, and grace, that in all her short years, she had never seen the like before. And Toron was matching her.

The first time Toron took a less likely option, Galadwen nearly took a full blow to her ribs. She managed to spin with the blow. It didn't knock her to the ground but it still hit hard. Hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. She felt the pain, but through the life force, it was only a distant recognition, an inconsequential observation. Continuing her spin, she deflected his next strike before coming in with one of hers. Toron deflected it, and when he next blurred into multiple possibilities, Galadwen tried to defend for the two or three she could see. It was significantly harder trying to defend herself from multiple possible attacks. She had the feeling she was tying herself up in knots and pushing her body in ways it did not want to go.

The longer they fought, the more possibilities would come up. Toron was thinking of more options for each strike. It was becoming impossible to completely defend all of the possibilities. More and more of his strikes were landing. As another blow hit her right leg, Galadwen realised she was loosing. She lacked the knowledge and skill to continue to defend herself against such a skilled and adaptable opponent.

His next blow knocked the sword from her hands. She watched it arc over Toron and land beyond him. Stepping to the side of his next strike, she dodged his follow-up blow and dove into the ground past him. Collecting her sword in her hand, Galadwen turned the dive into a roll, to finish standing a few paces from him.

As she stood, Galadwen opened her eyes to reveal the quiet secluded clearing was now surrounded with elves. She looked around in surprise as they all stared back, standing like statues in the dim evening light. A sea of expressionless faces staring at her. Toron turned to face her and stopped. After watching the blurred figure of him for so long, it was strange to see him completely in focus. In the dusk light, his clothes looked dishevelled and his hair was falling over his eyes. His breathing was faster than usual, but his face was a calm mask as he studied her.

In the deafening stillness, someone started to clap. The noise shocked the stillness that had settled on the clearing as others joined in. Galadwen bowed her head in embarrassment, but a smile of pleasure spread across her face. The clapping slowly faded, and with it, the elves slipped into the gathering darkness.

Throughout it all, Toron had not moved. His expressionless face did not change. When the last of the elves left and they were finally alone again, he spoke.

"You drew on your life force," he said.

"Yes," Galadwen replied.

"You used it to see what I was going to do."

"Yes," she replied.

"You play with fire Galadwen," he said. "To draw on it so readily is dangerous."

Now she had stopped moving, Galadwen had stopped drawing on her life force. It left her body drained and aching. She wanted to sit and rest but refused to show weakness to Toron, lest he use it as confirmation that he was right.

"Yes," she agreed. "But if my life depended on it, doing so would allow me to live."

"Against most opponents, but not all," he replied. "You can not depend on it because you will not be guaranteed a safe place to recover."

"I understand Toron," Galadwen said. "I will only use my life force when no other option is available."

"Good," he said, a smile finally cracking through his mask. "You did well."

Galadwen smiled back, basking in his praise.

"I am late for duty. I must go," Toron said. With a small bow, he jogged out of the clearing.

As soon as he was gone, Galadwen stumbled over to where her bow and sheath rested against a tree. Bending over to pick up the sheath, her body decided fighting gravity was no longer a worthy battle. Turning the fall into a slide down the trunk, she collapsed against the tree in a less than graceful manner. A complete contrast to how she had felt moments earlier. As utter exhaustion took over, Galadwen wearily sheathed her sword.

Touching the tree, she thanked it for its support and asked it for strength. It was not a tree she had spoken to before, but after a moment, she felt it's strength flow through her. With a sigh, she leaned back on the tree and closed her eyes.

When Galadwen opened her eyes again, the clearing was the dark of the deep night. She felt greatly restored. Still not back to how she had been, but close enough. Galadwen thanked the tree, then collecting her weapons, she stood and returned home.

Climbing the final steps, Galadwen's body demanded more rest. She heard Nestor singing on her sleeping landing. Too tired for conversation, Galadwen quietly undressed and fell into her sleeping roll.

Within the tangled web of the future, Galadwen quickly found the familiar path of the halfling. She could feel the ring in his possession. It watched her as she watched the halfling. He was flying on a giant eagle into the sunrise. She marvelled to see such a thing. To fly with the eagles was a great honour only granted to a fortunate few. To see the world as they saw it, like tiny miniatures far below, the world blurring away in the distance, was a magical sight. For one of the first times ever, Galadwen was thankful for her gift. It had allowed her to see such a thing.

Galadwen regretfully left the halfling on the eagle to check over her own future. She was pleased to see on many occasions, her death was now less likely. What she had discovered fighting Toron was going to help her survival and her ability to complete her quest. The chance of her saving the halfling and surviving was still so small that she struggled to see the path. But as long as it was there, she had hope.

Every time she looked too far ahead, she would see the golden-haired elf. In seeing him, her heart will skip a beat and would pull at her to follow him. The more she refused, the harder it was, until like every night since she had first seen him, she would give in. It was a guilty pleasure. To watch him smile and laugh. To see him gracefully move or sit in quiet contemplation. Every night, she would finish her dreaming with watching what he was going to do the next day. She knew it was wrong of her to use her gifts in such a way, but his pull was too strong. She could not deny herself. Particularly when seeing him helped her to not dwell on all the death she had seen, especially her own.

She woke slowly, trying to keep herself in the dream state while conscious. Without the power of her life force, she could not hold it for long, particularly when she heard voices talking about her.

"I am glad to see you and Galadwen are becoming close. She needs friends, someone she can talk to other than me. Thank you for everything you are doing for her," Nestor said in a warm voice.

"I am honoured to be her friend and help her how I can," he replied. "She is quite remarkable. Not just in her gift to see the future, which was incredible to see yesterday. But also her skills with tree singing and her ability to learn so quickly. With all she has been through and missed out on, I am continuously amazed that she can be so caring and determined to help others. I often find myself in awe of her."

"Yes, she has had a difficult childhood, but you must also remember that there is much that she has not experienced for herself. She is still innocent in many things of this world. In things like love and knowing the difference between love for a friend and love for a mate."

"I am not sure I know what you are saying," Toron replied.

"I think you do Toron. I have been around long enough to know love when I see it."

"I care for her deeply, and endlessly worry about her safety. But that is friendship."

"You are devoted to her Toron," Nestor said.

"She is my student," he replied.

"When was the last time you slept?" Nestor asked. "You serve Our Lady all night and you serve her daughter all day. Even an elf in his prime needs a few hours of sleep a week."

"She has so much to learn in such a short time. If I don't teach her who will? I do not have time for sleep. Because if she doesn't learn, how long can she survive outside our borders? Even with all I can teach, I still fear it is not enough. How can you let her go?"

"She must go Toron."

"And go to her death?" he asked. "How can you say such a thing?"

"When you have seen as much of life as I have Toron, I hope you will realise what I have," Nestor replied in a voice showing her years. "The mortal peoples of this land are more fortunate than us, for they know they will die one day. And perhaps one day soon. That knowledge allows them to live more in the short years they have, than many elves who have lived thousands of years. It is not about the time you have on this earth, but what you do with that time. Galadwen has seen that her time and the time of all living creatures is limited, and she chooses to do something about it before it is too late. Who am I to tell her any different?"

"But she is so young and inexperienced," he said. "She will die." The pain in Toron's voice was undeniable.

"Perhaps you don't see it yet," Nestor said in a soothing voice. "But you will realise why this pains you soon enough. So I must warn you. She has seen the one that her heart will yearn for and I do not believe it is you. But even if it was, you must still be warned. Because she has told me that she has no intention of letting her heart distract her from the mission she has set for herself."

Galadwen felt this awkward conversation had been going long enough. She moved to let them know she was awake, before opening her eyes to reveal Nestor and Toron sitting at the table, with the early morning sun shining through the canopy above. Toron looked embarrassed, while Nestor looked amused.

"Toron," Galadwen said. "What are you doing here?"

"I was concerned when you did not meet me at dawn, so came to check you were well."

"I am sorry I did not meet you," she said as she climbed out of her sleeping roll and joined them at the table.

"You pushed yourself too hard yesterday," Toron said. "I should have stopped it."

"It was my choice," Galadwen said. "I must know what my limits are."

"Yes," Nestor said. "I heard it was quite a display. It was the talk of the market this morning." She pushed a bowl of food in front of Galadwen. "Going blow for blow with a master warrior at full speed. I did not know your training was progressing so quickly."

"It is not Mam," Galadwen said as she ravenously started in on the plate of food. "I used my sight to foresee his next move. I cheated."

"Nonsense girl," Nestor said. "You only used what weapons were available to you. Just because your opponent doesn't have the same weapons does not mean it is cheating. We fight against those who do not hold to any code except their own self-interest."

"Nestor is right," Toron said. "Orcs will not give you the honour of a fair fight."

"But you were so displeased with me yesterday," Galadwen replied.

"My anger was not that you used your gift against me, it was because you had to drain your life force to do so. What if I had not disarmed you when I did? You could have drained all your life force and killed yourself without even knowing you were doing it. It is something that must be used with extreme caution."

"Yes, I understand that, but I can not learn my limits unless I push them," Galadwen replied. Toron frowned at her, obviously unwilling to agree. "I hope you will be happy to know I saw the likelihood of my death has significantly decreased since yesterday."

"I am pleased to hear that," Toron replied. "But I would be happier to know that there was no chance of your death."

"We will all die if nothing is done to stop the destruction that is coming," Galadwen said. "So even if I stayed within the secure borders of Lothlorien, death would still find me, as it will you and Nestor and every living thing in Middle Earth."

"If such destruction is truly unavoidable, then should not Our Lord and Lady be informed so they can act to stop it?" Toron asked. "Why must it be you?"

"Lady Galadriel knows of what Galadwen has seen," Nestor said. "And I believe she would do more to help if she could, but she dares not. Outside Lothlorien, the world may be on the brink of destruction, but inside, we are on the brink of a civil war. There are some here that would strip her of her crown and banish her from the lands she created. You must have seen it Toron."

"I know there is a few that loudly disapprove of her rule, believing she does not have the best interests of her people at heart, but the majority of the people still support her," he replied.

"They would not dare to loudly disapprove if her crown was as secure as you believe. Those elves will soon realise that they cannot lock themselves within our borders and forever ignore what happens to the world outside, as it will affect us all. But until that time, Our Lord and Lady must rule carefully."

"And as I am one of the reasons for their discontent, if I leave, it will help secure her rule and allow her to act more directly in the future," Galadwen said. "This destruction will not be stopped by one person. It will take a fellowship of all free peoples of Middle Earth to even have a chance."

"So you must go, but why do it alone?" he asked. "Our Lady refused my request to accompany you, and I can not break my vows of service to her, otherwise I would follow you gladly. But there are others who can and will follow you. You do not have to do this alone."

"Thank you Toron, but no," Galadwen said. "I must and I will do this alone. For I am not a leader and pretending to be so would only cause more discontent within Lothlorien. You can not dissuade me otherwise."

Toron did not reply. He just stared at her, studying her. Although Galadwen felt uncomfortable under such a stare, she did not look away. He had to see her determination.

Eventually, Toron dropped his gaze. "I see you will have it no other way than your own," he said. "So I know no option other than to continue to do what I can to help you."

"Thank you Toron," Galadwen said.

He stood suddenly. "Rest today," Toron said. "Tomorrow we will prepare for an overnight excursion."

"Will you not be on duty?" Galadwen asked as he turned to leave.

"It is my night off," he replied over his shoulder as he left.

Galadwen listened to him descend the stairs.

"The Royal Guard only get one shift off a month," Nestor said. "So use the time with him well my child."

"I will Mam," she replied.

With the rest of the day before her, Galadwen pondered how best to use her time as she bathed off the day before's sweat. There was still so much more she needed to learn. And the problem with studying so many new areas, the more she learnt, the more she realised how little she knew. There were some things that she finally had to admit she did not have the time to study. Namely, tree singing.

Over the past few weeks, she had managed to get as far as Nestor, getting a message passed through the leaves on Laerorneth, but had so far been unsuccessful at getting any messages passed from tree to tree. It was a child's dream to be a tree singer. She no longer had time for childish dreams. Keeping herself alive during the next couple of months was far more important.

So with renewed determination, Galadwen dressed and collected her weapons. It was strange that such things had felt so foreign and had even scared her a few weeks ago. Now, she never felt completely dressed without the comfortable weight of her weapons on her back, that were now moving with each step, as she headed to the training area.

Using the archery targets that were still set up from the previous morning, Galadwen moved around the obstacles as she fired, just as she had the day before. After the first round, she managed to hit about the same number of targets as the previous day. Then for the second round, Galadwen drew on her life force as lightly as she could and closed her eyes. She could see the targets in the future, and before each shot, she positioned herself so the arrow would hit the target. It felt like it took a long time to get through the first round, pausing and adjusting before each shot. But opening her eyes and releasing her life force, Galadwen saw every target had an arrow through the dead centre.

She couldn't stop grinning as she collected her arrows from the centre of every target. Before today, she had only ever hit the centre of a target once, and Toron had been quick to inform her that it was only chance unless she could do it again. That morning she had shot all her arrows at the same target, to prove him wrong, only to find that none of her arrows would hit dead centre again.

But that was not the case today. During the next round, her pauses between shots were slightly shorter. Then, by the time it was noon, she no longer had to pause at all. While her body was firing an arrow, her mind was already confirming the exact position her body should be in for the next shot. Trying to only draw on the minimum amount of life force she needed to see the future, Galadwen could still feel her body spinning faster and more gracefully than normal. The bow was becoming a part of her, it belonged in her hand, and yearned to be fired. She was becoming a warrior.

Careful to not drain too much of her life force, Galadwen stopped at midday to rest against one of the mallorn trees on the edge of the clearing while she filled her stomach and quenched her thirst. Surprisingly, after hours of practice, she did not feel anywhere near as drained as she had the day before. She was learning to control how much of her life force she drew.

Galadwen knew she should use the afternoon to study, but reading, particularly in Khuzdul, was not her strong suit. It was such a harsh, arduous language to read. In fact, she would rather a week of gruelling training with Toron than to struggle through the rest of that book. So after her break, and with only a brief moment of guilt, she continued to practice her archery.

The afternoon flew by as quick as the arrows flew from her bow. As dusk approached, Galadwen felt her body tire slightly, so she took another break, resting against the same tree. When full dark of night had set in, she continued her practice. Although she had never fired arrows in the dark, with her elven senses at full strength and the slight use of her life force, the dark did little to slow her down or affect her accuracy. She practised late into the night until her body demanded respite. In the quiet dark of deep night, Galadwen walked the familiar path home for a few hours rest before dawn.