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Old Friends and Memories
(Drifter)
The Fellowship jogged into the Golden Wood as the sun set before slowing to a cautious walk. Everyone but Drifter warily looked around. She, on the other hand, relaxed her normally tense posture as a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Stay close, young hobbits!" Gimli was warning. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods, an elf-witch, of terrible power. All who look upon her, fall under her spell and are never seen again. Well, here is one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox." As soon as those words were out of his mouth, the group was surrounded by notched arrows pointed at them.
"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," the lead elf stated, coming out of the shadows. Drifter's smile grew somewhat at the sight of him. During their trek from Moria, she had raised her hood so that it shadowed her face; therefore, Haldir looked at her suspiciously at first as the Fellowship was led towards a dark staircase attached to the nearby tree.
"And who may you be?" he questioned her, pushing the hood back with an arrow. All of the natives within sight range showed different levels of shock at seeing her face. "Lle ier tyr creoso sinome, Minuialwen (You are most welcome here, Minuialwen)," Haldir greeted.
"Haldir, lle cyrn amin delotha tanya essa (you know I hate that name)," she kindly chided.
"I'm sorry…Falathiel." Neither of the friends could hold back any longer.
"It is wonderful to see you, Haldir. My bad day just became bearable!" she stated, embracing him. As she backed away and followed her friends up the tree, the elf's gaze lingered on her a while longer. A few minutes later, Haldir was speaking to Aragorn.
"A, Aragorn in Dúnedain istannen le ammen (Oh, Aragorn of the Dúnedain, you are known to us)."
"So much for the legendary courtesy of the elves!" the dwarf exclaimed. "Speak words we can all understand!"
"We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the dark days."
"And you know what this Dwarf says to that? Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul (I spit upon your grave)!"
"That was not so courteous," Aragorn scolded.
"You bring great evil with you," Haldir said to Frodo. "You can go no further."
"Boe ammen veriad lîn. Andelu i ven (We need your protection. The road is fell)!" Aragorn protested. "Merin le telim (I wish we may come with you)."
Drifter ignored the rest of the conversation, standing next to Boromir.
"I saw more than courtesy in his eyes when he looked at you," the Man stated, jealousy on the edge of his voice.
"Are you jealous?" the woman asked, expressing her assumption. "I have made a decision, Boromir. I will give you your chance," she finished, slipping her hand into his. Boromir then turned to Frodo, who was blankly staring in front of him.
"Gandalf's death was not in vain…nor would he have you give up hope. You carry a heavy burden, Frodo…don't carry the weight of the dead."
"You will follow me," Haldir suddenly said to the group. Drifter noticed that his less than happy appearance was most likely because his elvish ears had picked up her quiet dialogue with Boromir. After walking for some time, they came upon a large clearing with a clump of giant trees in the middle.
"Caras Galadhon," Haldir introduced, "…the heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."
Drifter remembered the dimly lit forest-city down to even how many steps existed between the ground and the platform where Galadriel would meet them. Nearly all of the Fellowship gaped at the beauty of the elf-queen descending the stairs with Celeborn, who addressed them.
"The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine there are here, yet eight there were, set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him…I can no longer see him from afar."
"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land," Galadriel answered for them, looking at Aragorn. "He has fallen into shadow."
"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame," Legolas corrected, "…a Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."
"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life," the lady stated. "We do not yet know his whole purpose." Her eyes then found Gimli. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad- dûm fill you heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."
When the lady turned her eyes to Boromir at her last phrase, Drifter felt him squeeze her hand tighter than ever, though she did not flinch. She was knowledgeable of what Galadriel could say through the mind and not all of it was completely encouraging.
"What now becomes of this Fellowship?" Celeborn asked. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."
"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife," Galadriel advised. "Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace."
As Drifter turned to go with the others, Galadriel caught her eye, to which she responded by pulling her hand out of Boromir's and giving an encouraging nod to send him on his way.
"Gandalf could not be honored more than if you led a lament," she softly requested.
"I would, in turn, be honored," the ranger responded.
"This way."
Galadriel led Drifter a level further up to an empty platform. From her knowledge of the elves, she knew that, for laments such as these, the soloist would have that area all to his or herself. The quiet gave the singer time to invent a song offhand, which was another tradition of Lorien and how many elvish songs had been created. Once alone, the ranger sat down on the bench in the middle of the floor. Moments later, she once again stood. She enjoyed singing. In fact, she would have probably been famous for her resonating voice if she had not hidden herself away for most of her life. Clearing her throat, she began.
"A Olórin i yaresse…Mentaner i Numeherui Tírien i Rómenóri… (Olórin who once was…Sent by the Lords of the West to guard the Lands of the East…)"
The elves somewhere among the trees caught onto the lament's idea and responded,
"Melme nóren sina núra ala Eäro… (Our love for this land is deeper than the deeps of the sea…)"
Smiling peacefully, Drifter continued,
"…Maiaron i Oiosaila, Manan elye etevanne Nórie i malanelye? (Wisest of all Maiar, What drove you to leave that which you loved?)"
The musical exchange continued for a few more minutes before its end. When Drifter turned to go, she found Galadriel standing at the platform's entrance.
"Your beautiful voice has not changed, Falathiel."
"At least you know that I do not like my elvish name without me telling you."
The lady smiled.
"You do not need me to tell you that most of what I see of your future is filled with sadness and peril."
"The last time I had anything to do with discovering my future, Galadriel, I looked into your mirror and saw what I would not believe. This time, I will not even risk it."
"Very well," she concluded. "Now, I suppose that you wish to bathe."
"Preferably."
--
Half an hour later, the elf-queen escorted Drifter down the stairs to where everyone else was sleeping, except for Legolas, who was replacing the arrows in his quiver. Galadriel kept walking towards where she kept her mirror, soon followed by Frodo. As she sat against the tree to continue carving the piece of wood she had been whittling since before Moria, Legolas approached her.
"Ya ier lle (Who are you)?" he asked. "Haldir, Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel, they all trust you. Gandalf acted as if you were his daughter, if nothing else. Lord Elrond acts as if he owes you a great debt. Ya ier lle (Who are you)?"
Drifter sighed at the poor prince's confusion, pausing in her work.
"Legolas," she began, "few people know who I am. Even Boromir does not know my real name. All will find out when the time comes. I'm surprised that you don't at least remember my real name."
The prince gave up and walked away, leaving Drifter to blow the loose shavings from her hidden artwork.
--
The next morning, the Fellowship was lined up, prepared to leave. Drifter bowed her head to the young elf-maiden clipping the broach on her new elvish cloak.
"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people," Celeborn stated. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."
Galadriel then began giving each of the group a gift. Drifter was the last to be faced by the lady.
"I believe this belongs to you, Falathiel," she said, offering a mythril headpiece to the ranger. The silver chain was inset by a white jewel which reflected the light.
"It was my mother's," the girl whispered, fingering the gem.
"Yes, it was brought here after she died so that it could one day be passed onto you."
"Thank you."
"Go with the blessings of all elves."
"Edro i' ando (Open the gate)!" the exhausted woman yelled as she approached the entrance of Rivendell, dragging Arathorn's lifeless body on a makeshift sled behind her. She collapsed as soon as she had entered the city.
"Lye shaesi eisteraer (We were ambushed)."
"Ier lle i' ere' er hyarya (Are you the only one left)?" one of the elves asked, to which the woman did not respond. Instead, she looked away, trying to contain her sorrow.
"Vaeraes i' ba ar' vaedasi Arathorn ten' shesor, Maidhion (Respect the dead and prepare Arathorn for burial, Maidhion)," Elrond scolded, approaching the girl, who was still sitting on the ground. "Lyn, I can think of no way to break this to you gently and not add more weight to your heart, but…your mother died just three days ago. I am sorry."
"No," she muttered. "No!"
At this, Lyn ran to the small forest and knelt, crying, on the ground near the river.
As everyone headed for the boats, Drifter was confronted by Haldir.
"Did you intend to once again leave without saying goodbye?" he asked.
"Why would you think such a thing, Haldir?"
"I thought you could use this," he stated, handing her a light elvish bow and a quiver full of arrows.
"I left these here years ago!" she exclaimed, gazing at her cherished weapon. "How did you…"
"I found it in your room after you left. The other reason why I came is because I wanted to tell you…"
The ranger, in turn, interrupted.
"Haldir, right now, I am just getting over losing my former fiancé and possibly falling in love with someone else."
"But," the elf almost shyly said, "if you change your mind, would consider it?"
"No offence to you, Haldir, but I hope that nothing happens to make me change my mind. My heart can barely handle one present lover and a past."
"I understand," the elf whispered as Drifter sat in the front of the canoe with Boromir, Merry, and Pippin. The hobbits were small enough to both fit in the middle and the woman was slightly lighter than a normal human due to her heritage.
The Fellowship paddled down the river, peaceful from their reprieve in Lorien.
--
That night, Drifter sat next to Frodo, who seemed more nervous than usual. She ignored the conversations around her, until something Boromir was saying to Aragorn caught her ear.
"Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know it. From there, we can regroup…strike out for Mordor from a place of strength."
"There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us," Aragorn argued.
"You were quick enough to trust the elves," the other man snapped as Drifter approached the bickering duo. "Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But, there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that. You are afraid!" he accused, grabbing Aragorn. "All your life, you have hidden in the shadows! Scared of who you are, of what you are."
"I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city," the ranger defended before walking away.
"Boromir," Drifter softly addressed the Man, "you do realize that by judging Aragorn for his lifestyle, you also judge mine?"
"I'm sorry, Falathiel," he said, gently caressing her cheek. "I am just angry because he won't listen to my advice."
"Boromir, I agree with him. Having the Ring even somewhat close to Men is a danger, let alone to have it inside a city filled with them. As much as we would like to deny it, Men are susceptible to the influence of the Ring."
"You agree with him?" the Gondorian asked vehemently, pulling his hand away from her face and stalking away to the fire, leaving Drifter standing at the shore.
-It seems that everything I ever did was for nothing-
The maiden-warrior lay in the bushes, waiting for her prey. She had been tracking this group of elves for four days on their route to Lothorien and now was her chance for revenge. Crouching even lower as the party of eight began going by on the path, the woman drew her bow tight and aimed for the leader's heart. The arrow hit its mark, causing the other elves to frantically look around. Stepping out of her hiding place, Lyn drew her sword.
"This is rather amusing. The advisers who threw me out of my home are now afraid of me. How ironic."
At this, she began attacking the elves with all of her strength. The untrained advisers were down in minutes, soon followed by their escorts. Lyn wiped her sword on the grass, although it did not do her much good as she was covered in blood. Sighing, she said to herself,
"I have had my revenge. Now, I will become what I am doomed to be: a drifter."
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