Chapter 8 - Farewells
Sitting at the table in her tree with Toron and Nestor, on her final afternoon in Lothlorien, part of Galadwen wished that dawn would never come.
"Every traveller knows of the delicate balance between comfort and speed," Toron was saying as he helped Galadwen pack the food into her satchel. "To travel in comfort, you cannot travel at any great speed. The more comforts you wish to take with you, the more cumbersome your load will be and the slower you will travel. A sleeping mat, cooking billy, and fresh food are all luxuries you do not have the time to take. To stay out of the reach of danger, you must travel at speed. Resting only when you must and eating no more than half a lambas bread a day. If you follow the Anduin upstream for four days, you will reach the Gladden Fields. Wait on the edge of the Gladden Fields until a guide comes to show you through the fields and across the Gladden River. Remember, do not go through the fields alone. They are like the Soft Lands and without a guide, can be treacherous. Once you cross the Gladden River, you will have another three days walk before you get to the old ford. Cross the Anduin and walk north for another couple of days until you reach the home of the skin-changer. Only approach his lands during the day, lest you anger the beast. He will guide you to the Forest Gate, from which you can follow the Elf-path through Mirkwood to the Elevenking's Halls."
"Yes, Toron," Galadwen said smiling. "I remember from the first half a dozen times we went over it."
"I know, I know," Toron replied as he packed the last lambas bread into her satchel. "I just feel like we are missing something."
"If we were, we would have found it by now."
"Let us go over it one more time," he replied, pulling the maps out again.
"Toron," Galadwen interrupted, "I know those maps off by heart."
"But what if you get lost or forced off the planned route?" he asked.
"I will be fine," she replied. "Have some faith."
Sighing, Toron folded the maps up again.
"Please, let us just enjoy this last day," Galadwen said.
"How very mortal of you," Toron commented.
"Yes," she agreed, "but is that such a bad way to live?"
"Not at all, my child," Nestor said. "I often wish more elves would think like that. Then perhaps some of those stuffy, backstabbing court sycophants would see what is really important in life."
Toron gaped at Nestor in horror.
"Oh don't look at me like that Toron. When you get to my age, you too can say what you really think. Not that anyone listens to me anymore," she said with a sigh. "But enough of that. Galadwen, didn't you have something to give Toron?"
Smiling, Galadwen excused herself from the table and ran up the branch to her sleeping platform. Sitting in the middle of it was her most beautiful creation yet. With the help of Laerorneth, she had sung a rocking chair from her shoots. The intricate pattern of the silvery white shoots on the back of the chair formed an image of two people sitting under a mallorn tree. She could not help but feel a little proud of her efforts over the last couple of days as she picked it up and carried it back down to the living platform. She put it down next to where Toron was sitting.
"This is for you," she said. "Even those who choose not to live in a tree deserve some of their comforts."
Toron stood to inspect the chair. "Galadwen it is beyond beautiful. Even though I have seen your talent with my own eyes, it still amazes me. I do not know how to thank you for such a gift."
"Then perhaps we are even, for you have given me more than I could ever repay. Even a dozen such chairs would not come close, but I fear I did not have the time for more than one."
"One is all I want. Thank you Galadwen," he said, grasping her shoulder with affection. She returned his smile and grasp.
"Now," said Nestor. "It is time for a toast." She took out some cups and filled them with her best sweet wine. Smiling, Galadwen and Toron accepted the offered cups. "I have always been proud of you, child," Nestor began. "But now I am near to bursting with it. The amount of change and growth you have undertaken in the last month is unheard of amongst elves. It has been a pleasure and an honour to watch you grow, and I know what you have learnt will serve you well. I also know that although I am pleased to see you living such a life, I will miss you terribly my dear child." There were tears in her eyes and her voice shook with emotion. "You are the daughter and the family I never had. I love you, my dear Galadwen."
"Oh Mam," Galadwen said, forgetting her drink and throwing her arms around Nestor in a hug. Nestor held her tight for a long moment before letting her go.
Clearing the emotion from her throat, Nestor raised her glass. "To family and friends."
"Family and Friends," Toron and Galadwen repeated.
"As much as I wish I could stay and drink with you all night, my duty calls," Toron said.
"So soon? It is not yet dusk," Galadwen argued.
"No, but I must drop your wonderful chair off first. Do not fear Galadwen, I will be there to see you off at dawn." He took her hand in his and bowed low over it. His breath caressed her fingers as his lips softly touched them. "Rest, I will see you at dawn," he said, before quickly turning, collecting the chair and disappearing down the stairs.
Galadwen did not move as she listened to him descend the full length of the stairs.
"Come, child, eat something, then you must rest," Nestor said.
With a sad sigh, Galadwen returned to her seat at the table.
"Come now, do not be sad on your last night here," Nestor said as she placed a pile of food in front of Galadwen. "How about I sing you a tale?"
With a small smile, Galadwen nodded. And so Nestor began her song. It was the tale of Beren and Lúthien. According to Nestor, this tale was celebrated in Rivendell, but in Lothlorien, it was not often heard. Nestor had said that was because many of the elves of Lothlorien believed the mixing of mortal and immortal blood to be undesirable and impure.
Although a beautiful song, it was not a cheerful choice. At the death of Beren, Galadwen could feel tears in her eyes, as much for her own probable death as for Beren's. The song finished with Beren and Luthien renewing their love in their second life. It was a beautiful end to a hard life. As the final notes faded, Galadwen thought of the golden-haired elf and wondered if such a gift could be granted to them.
"Come, my child, you must rest now," Nestor said. "It will be days before you can do so again in safety."
"Yes Mam," Galadwen agreed, taking her leave and walking up to her sleeping platform.
Reclined in the comfortable nook of her sleeping platform, Galadwen sent a final thanks to Laeroneth before closing her eyes and opening them in the future.
Her first task was to check on the halfling. The company was currently at the home of the skin-changer. She followed their possible futures and saw that their most likely course was still to be held captive by the Elvenking. It was here that she hoped to meet up with them and possibly change their futures. To do that, she still had many challenges to face. Looking into her own future, there was still a large chance she and many other elves would be killed in the upcoming battle. Some of the orcs would slip through the army's trap and track her down. With so many people involved, the most likely events were too difficult to determine, but what she did see was that if she could make it to the Gladden Fields, she would survive. The rest of the night was spent studying the many possibilities of the upcoming battle.
With watching all the death and fighting, Galadwen was glad to wake before dawn. It had been unpleasant but productive. She would need to talk to the commander leading the battle today.
As she dressed, Galadwen smiled as she heard the familiar sound of Nestor singing to the Laeroneth on the living platform. It gave her comfort as she shouldered her weapons and said goodbye to her childhood sleep quarters.
Nestor was reclining in one of the chairs at the table, singing a song that made the chair gently rock back and forth as she ate her morning meal. Opposite her was a plate of food for Galadwen. Taking a seat at the table, Galadwen ate while listening to Nestor's smooth rhythmic voice. She did not have the heart to join in and sing to Laeroneth one last time.
The sky was starting to lighten as Nestor's song was finally finished. "It is time, my child."
Nodding, Galadwen stood and accepted the offered satchel, now heavy with lambas loaves and water. Nestor took her arm, and together they descended Laeroneth's stairs. Galadwen ran her free hand over the smooth trunk as they descended, feeling Laeorneth's life beneath her hand. The tree was wishing her a safe journey.
On the short walk to the north gate, the forest, that was usually quiet at this time of the morning, was busy with elves bustling about. Most were heading in the same direction as them, towards the north gate. A large crowd was milling around the gate when they arrived. Most of them were soldiers and their families.
"I must speak with the commander," Galadwen said. Nestor nodded and led her through the crowd. The commander was the same elf she had seen speaking to the court, and now standing beside the gate, he was surrounded by messengers and lieutenants. Unsure of her priority, Galadwen joined the people waiting for a moment of his time. He was speaking to the lieutenants when he saw her.
"Good day Galadwen," he said once the lieutenants were dismissed. "I am Captain Erthor. I have been told that you will be travelling with the army until we engage the orcs. While you do so, you will do as commanded by my lieutenants and myself."
Galadwen nodded, "Of course."
"Good. You will travel with the healers until we leave the forest. We will talk more once the army is on the road," he said with a dismissive nod.
"I am not sure if Our Lady told you of my . . ."
"Yes," Captain Erthor said interrupting her. "I have been told. We will talk later." He waved one of the messengers forward. "Romon here will take you to Maerbes, the Head Healer." With that, the Captain turned away and addressed another messenger.
"If you please," the messenger said. "This way."
Galadwen and Nestor followed the messenger through the bustling crowd. As they walked, a horn blew a long note and the urgency of the crowd increased dramatically.
"An order to start forming up," Nestor said to Galadwen's questioning glance. Galadwen started searching the crowd. "He will be here my child," Nestor said as the messenger stopped in front of an orderly group, identified as healers by their matching green robes. There were ten of them, lined up in pairs, each with a bulging satchel over their shoulder and a staff in their right hand. The messenger approached the healer at the head of the column who had neither staff nor satchel.
"Maerbes," Romon said. "Captain Erthor requests that you allow Galadwen to walk with your unit."
Maerbes looked towards Galadwen and Nestor before nodding to the messenger, who bowed before slipping into the crowd. Maerbes strode over, offering a smile to Nestor. "Greetings Nestor. Have you come to inspect my healers?"
"You know I could not find a fault in your charges even if I wished to," Nestor replied.
"Indeed," Maerbes replied with a proud smile.
"Galadwen, this is Maerbes, an excellent healer and an outstanding leader," Nestor said. "Maerbes, this is my Galadwen, a brave and intelligent woman who I leave in your care."
"As long as she is with my unit, I will treat her as one of my healers," Maerbes replied.
Nestor gave a pleased smile. Maerbes returned to her unit as Nestor turned to Galadwen.
"It is time, my child," she said. Galadwen could feel tears coming to her eyes. She did not want this to be a goodbye. "Our Lady wished for me to tell you that she would be here to see you off if she could. She gave me this to give to you." Nestor pulled out a small pouch from her robes. "Only open it when your need is great, for the light within can only be used to heal a mortal wound once. And here, take this pin as a gift from Celeborn," Nestor said, attaching a mallorn leaf broach to her cloak. "Know that the blessings of Lothlorien go with you."
"Thank you Mam," Galadwen said, giving her an embrace.
"You will succeed. We will see each other again." Nestor said as they broke apart. Blinking back her tears, Galadwen turned and joined the column of healers.
The bustling crowd of moments before was now a precise column of nearly a couple thousand soldiers. The healers' unit was at the rear of the column. On either side of the road, their friends and family lined up to wave them off, as an expectant hush fell on the crowd. Then two short blasts of the horn sounded and the front of the column started to move out. As the soldiers started their uniformed march, the crowd started to sing them farewell. Galadwen looked around for Nestor. She was there in the crowd, with a big smile and tears freely running down her face. And beside her was Toron. In his Royal Guard uniform, he smiled and with hand on chest, he bowed to her. Nestor did the same. And so too did many others as she passed them. It was a hero's farewell.
She did not consider herself a hero, but perhaps it was just a mark of respect towards her journey, or maybe like Callas, they believed she was being unfairly kicked out. Either way, it made Galadwen smile to see elves she had never met showing her solidarity. She was not alone.
The column slowly snaked out of the city along the north road. As the healers' unit passed the city gates, Galadwen looked back a final time towards Caras Galadhon. Through the arch of the gate, she picked out the two figures of Nestor and Toron. After a final wave goodbye, Galadwen set her eyes and heart on the quest.
They had not been marching long before Captain Erthor joined her at the back of the column with a squad of eleven soldiers.
"Galadwen, this is Lieutenant Amathel," the Captain said, indicating the lithe leader of the squad. Galadwen recognised her face from her dreaming, as one of the soldiers she had seen die in a few of the future possibilities. "The Lieutenant has been charged with your protection until the orc army has been dealt with. We have been briefed on your gift, and advised you may have some insight on how to ensure this campaign is successful."
"Yes," Galadwen agreed. "I have seen that the only way to successfully trap the orcs is to use me as bait. I will need to be in more danger than I'm sure yourself and Lieutenant Amathel will be comfortable with."
"I was informed that the orcs may be after you so our plan was to use you as bait. At the forest border, we will split the army. A third will be your honour guard, travelling north with you. The rest of the army will wait for the orcs to follow you before we circle around them and cut them off from a retreat into the mountains. From there the trap will be sprung and you and Lieutenant Amathel's squad will travel east to the Anduin. Once the battle is won, I will send a scout to call them back and you can continue on your journey north, free from the dangers of any orcs."
"Thank you Captain, but a third of the army is still too many for the orcs to risk attacking. It will need to be less," Galadwen said.
"It is too much risk, not just for your life, but for those of my soldiers if we have less," Captain Erthor replied.
"Then the trap will not work," Galadwen said with certainty. The Captain gave her a stony look.
"How about a compromise," Lieutenant Amathel said. "A third of the army can march with Galadwen, but she will travel slower than the army. With only my squad to guard her, they orcs will see an easy target that can be finished off before the small army can return to defend us. When the orcs attach, we run for the small army, who will be waiting in the next valley. Once in the valley, we can run east and the small army can engage the orcs, with the larger army boxing them in."
"That will put you and your squad in great danger," the Captain said. "What if you cannot outpace the orcs?" he asked, looking towards Galadwen. It was clear he did not believe she could outrun them and would end up getting the squad killed.
"I accept the risks for myself, but I will not command my squad to go. Even so, I can tell you now that every one of them will volunteer," the Lieutenant replied.
"Very well," the Captain agreed. "Galadwen, do you have anything to add?"
"That plan will work," she replied. "But I cannot be certain that all the orcs will be caught in your trap. Some may slip through and pursue us."
"My squad will deal with those," said the Lieutenant.
"I have seen that there may be too many," Galadwen said.
"I will charge Lieutenant Dagon's squad with watching your retreat," the Captain said. "If there are orcs following, he will give chase. Two squads will be enough to stop any who slip the net."
"Agreed," said the Lieutenant.
Trying to remember all the possible futures, Galadwen believed this one would work, but she could not be certain. Not unless she slept.
"Will we rest before the battle?" Galadwen asked.
"It is half a day's march to the edge of the forest," the Captain replied. "We will stop there only long enough to eat, drink and check equipment. There is only a certain distance from the borders in which this trap will work. Now if you will excuse me, I must talk to the other Lieutenants." He gave her and Lieutenant Amathel a sharp nod before jogging up the column.
"This is your first time, is it not?" the Lieutenant asked.
"First time?" Galadwen asked in confusion.
"Facing orcs?"
"Yes," Galadwen confirmed.
"This will be my 386 battle or skirmish, and the rest of my squad is just as seasoned," the Lieutenant said. "We will protect you. But I saw you spar with Toron. You know how to handle yourself. You will be fine."
Galadwen nodded. "What is it like?" she asked. "To kill something?"
"When something is trying to kill you or any of your squad, and it is us or them, it does not trouble my conscience," the Lieutenant replied. "During the battle, it is over before you have time to think about it. It is not until later, when you clean the blood from your sword, that you can actually contemplate the deed and see how it sits with your conscience. Killing orcs and other servants of the Dark Lord has never troubled me. But killing the innocent, that is different. I tried hunting once. Taking the life of an innocent animal will haunt me far more than all the kills I have made during battle. I know hunting is a necessity for many, but for me, I could not do it again."
They walked in silence as Galadwen contemplated what she had said.
"Please excuse me Galadwen," the Lieutenant said. "I must discuss tonight with the squad." She gave Galadwen a nod and stepped back into line with her squad.
As the column continued its march north, Galadwen tried not to dwell on the upcoming battle. Instead, she focused on the quiet conversations of healers in front of her and the forest beyond. The mallorn trees were smaller here and outnumbered by the many other types of trees. With every mallorn tree that she saw, Galadwen wondered if that would be the last one, until finally there were no more. With the last mallorn tree behind her, she felt an emptiness in her heart. She would never see another.
As the sun reached its zenith, the column came to a halt. With a few moments of downtime, the column broke up into companionable groups. Standing between the healers and Lieutenant Amathel's squad, Galadwen could almost feel the nervous excitement coming from each of the groups.
Maerbes approached Galadwen, offering her a waterskin.
"Drink," Maerbes instructed. Although she was not thirsty, Galadwen dared not argue with her. "I was Nestor's apprentice for many years and hold her in high regard. Although those in the court say otherwise, I believe she did the right thing in resigning her posts to raise you. To raise others as your own children is a worthy deed. I have been blessed with many children," she said with an affectionate smile towards her healers.
"Nestor would not talk to me of my birth. Would you tell me what you know?" Galadwen asked.
Maerbes looked around uncomfortably. "I am sorry Galadwen, it is not my place to say. I fear I should not have said anything. Please do not trouble yourself with things in the past."
A horn sounded softly from further up the road.
"Galadwen," Lieutenant Amathel called out to her. "It is time to form up."
Maerbes looked infinitely relieved to have their conversation interrupted. "May the sun and stars shine upon your path," she said with a small bow and returned to her healers.
Galadwen soon found herself surrounded by Lieutenant Amathel's squad and marching along the road with a third of the army. Galadwen could feel the eyes of the rest of the army on her, as they silently watched from amongst the trees on the sides of the road.
Just as she was getting back into the rhythm of the march, her feet stumbled at the sight before her. The army had reached the edge of the forest, and before her was a vast expanse of rolling hills as far as her elven eyes could see. To the left, the hills rose up to the snow-capped Misty Mountains in the distance, and to the right, she could see the odd glint of sunlight reflecting off the Great River. The column of five hundred soldiers was winding down the green slope, dotted with wildflowers of all colours.
She found it hard to imagine there could be danger in such a beautiful place.
"Is anything the matter?" one of the soldiers of Lieutenant Amathel's squad asked her.
Galadwen shook her head. "Nay," she said. "I have never stepped outside of the forest before."
With a deep breath, she took a step out into the bright sunlight.
The soldier smiled at her. "I was not as brave as you the first time I left the forest, and I was not on my way to becoming bait for a hoard of orcs."
Galadwen gave him a nervous smile as her eyes keep drifting towards the mountains, imagining hundreds of orcs waiting for darkness to emerge from their holes to hunt her down. She suddenly felt very exposed outside the protection of the forest. But she knew the forest's protection would be limited if she did not go. Setting her jaw, Galadwen took a determined step onto the plains, followed by another, and another. So without a backwards glance at Lothlorien forest, Galadwen continued on the journey she had set herself.
With a command from Lieutenant Amathel, her guard formed up around Galadwen as they made their way down into the valley after the army.
"Galadwen," the Lieutenant said. "You will need to slow your pace or we will catch up with the army we are meant to get separated from."
Galadwen gave her a sheepish nod. In her determination to get on with her quest, she had completely forgotten the trap they were to set.
As the afternoon wore on, they continued north, following the army's trail across valley after valley. Each ridge and valley started to blend together and look the same to Galadwen. Then reaching a ridge between two larger valleys, they could see the setting sun glint off the helmets of the army cresting the far ridge.
"We are getting too far behind," the Lieutenant said. "Time to pick up the pace."
The squad responded by descending the ridge at a loping gait with Galadwen keeping pace in their centre.
The valley floor was in shadow as they continued the pace across it, barely slowing to leap the tumbling brook flowing down its centre. The sunlight had disappeared from the top of the ridge in front of them by the time they crossed the valley to the bottom of it.
"We will save our energy for the battle and walk the climb," the Lieutenant said. "Lagorben," she said, turning to one of the soldiers. "Run to the top of the rise and keep a lookout. Now darkness is falling, the orcs will be looking for our trail. Signal if you see anything."
The soldier saluted and took off up the rise at a run. Galadwen and the rest of the squad continued at a steady walk.
The stars of a dark night, with the assistance of a crescent moon high in the sky, lit their way up the rise. The company took a moment to rest while Lagorben gave a report to the Lieutenant. While they did, Galadwen stood on the edge of the ridge to admire the spectacular sky. The many times she had looked from the top of Laeroneth's canopy, the view had not been as spectacular.
Even with the crescent moon, the stars shone in a magnitude of colours, illuminating the landscape in a wash of silver tones. The snow on the mountain peaks glowed like beacons in the night. In the valley they had just climbed out of, a ribbon of light showed the path of the brook, connecting the Misty Mountains rising out of the west to the Great River to the east. Then down in the valley, Galadwen saw a dark shadow moving at great speed away from them.
"Lieutenant," Galadwen called. "Down there," she said pointing to the fleeing shadow. The lieutenant leapt to her side and stared down into the dark valley.
"An orc scout on a warg," she said. "He must have seen us." She looked down into the valley on the other side of the ridge.
"The army had stopped to wait for us, but now they are on the move again. Lagorben, run to inform the army that we will set the trap in the next valley over. We will rest for another moment before following at a walk. Galuchin," she said to another soldier, "stay on this ridge until you see the orc hoard, then run with all haste to report to me. We will need to time our ascent of the next ridge so the orcs are close but we are still outside of their arrow range by the time we reach the top. It will be a delicate balance of staying outside of their arrow range on the decent but still being close enough to the orcs that they follow us into the trap. Once the trap has been sprung, we will not dally to fight or watch. We run east. Any questions?" she asked. After a moments pause, she continued. "Lagorben?"
The soldier nodded before saluting and disappearing down the slope at a flying run.
"Drink and eat," Lieutenant Amathrel said to Galadwen. "It may be some time before you get another chance."
As she did as instructed, Galadwen's eyes kept nervously scanning the horizon, searching for any signs of the oncoming orcs. Although she had seen this night happening so many times in her dreams, she was finding living it was quite another experience. With the danger so close, the fear was almost paralysing. It spread from her pounding heart through her body, making her want to move. To run and flee.
"Form up," came the Lieutenant's confident voice, inciting a sense of calm over Galadwen. Action was better than the watching and waiting.
The squad, except for the soldier Galuchin, formed up around Galadwen, and Lieutenant Amathrel led them off at a steady walk down the hill towards the valley.
No sooner than they had reached the valley floor than the rear soldiers warned of someone approaching from behind. At a command from the Lieutenant, the squad stopped and formed a defensive ring around Galadwen, alertly scanning their surrounds. With her hand on her sword, Galadwen could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but after a moment she saw the rest of the squad visibly relax as Galuchin came into view.
"The orcs have reached to top of this valley," she said to Lieutenant Amathrel.
"So soon?" she asked.
Galuchin nodded. "At an estimate, I would say they are 1750 strong, including a pack of wargs. Heading down the valley at a great pace."
Lieutenant Amathrel nodded, her face a passive mask. Galadwen did not know what it was like to fight orcs, but the army ahead was going to be outnumbered more than 3 to 1. That did not sound like good odds to her. By the careful lack of expression on the Lieutenant's face, Galadwen suspected that she thought the same.
"Is there anything we can do?" Galadwen asked the Lieutenant.
"Yes," replied Lieutenant Amathrel. "Follow the plan and hope that Captain Erthor's army is just out of sight of the orcs. Now I do not fancy being run down by wargs, so let us make haste for the next ridge."