Chapter Two ~ The Ride to Edoras
It was odd for Lossiel to currently find herself with members of humanoid species. She had simply spent way too much of her time lately amongst the Ents, giant tree-like beings that were anything but quick. Okay, maybe except for Quickbeam, but he was a rare exception.
Going back to the story, they all were riding with speed towards Edoras. Gandalf had taken Gimli with him on Shadowfax, the strongest of the their three horses, while Aragorn rode on Hasufel. The Wizard had told her to mount Arod with the other Elf since they were both quite light; Arod wouldn't have to struggle with much weight, even if they were two, in their great need of haste. It had been a very long time ever since Lossiel had last mounted a steed so she had been bit nervous when she had attempted to climb Arod's back. Luckily, Legolas had sensed her unease and had helped her up with a small, kind smile. Once she had been sitting, he had loosely wrapped her arms around his torso. He told her that she'd need to hold on unless she wished to fall off. He had said that last part with a teasing edge, one that made her roll her eyes and smile. She had to say that she was grateful for his kindness, seeing as they had just recently met.
Anyways, the scenery was quite nice and long blades of grass even reached the riders' knees once in a while, but the She-Elf's mind reeled with the conversation the group had had just a few hours prior to this moment. They had all been sitting on Fangorn's beloved hill, on flat rocks, back then. After quick introductions, ones that Aragorn had insisted on having, he had began to tell Gandalf the tale of their travel since his fall. The female had sometimes been confused with some of his words, names an example. Sensing it were so, Legolas had given her a few explanations in a voice so hushed and low that only her elven hearing had permitted her to notice and distinguish his words.
She really would have loved to have been with them in Lothlórien. It had been too long since she had last visited the Golden Wood… Even if she hadn't known Boromir, she couldn't have helped but feel a pang of sadness when she had learnt of his demise. As for the two hobbits that had gone missing, she had already known that they were more than safe in the company of Treebeard. She had quietly wished the other two halflings, who had set alone together for Mordor, that they wouldn't have too much trouble in their dangerous journey.
She smiled as she remembered that moment when Gandalf had told the trio of hunters that she had much more knowledge concerning the ancient forest than he did. He even had urged her to respond in his stead to Legolas' question, which had been, "Treebeard: that is only a rendering of Fangorn into the Common Speech; yet you seem to speak of a person. Who is this Treebeard?"
"Treebeard is Fangorn," she had told him, and her gaze had swept to each one that held hers as she had continued, "He is the oldest of the Ents, and this here is his country. Entish is the language we speak, but he knows the Common Speech quite well as well. He is generous in height and kind of heart." She had decided to end her description here, for she hadn't wanted to bore them with an overly-detailed description about the Ent she admired so much.
While she was reminiscing, she also thought about what she had told Aragorn when he had exclaimed his surprise concerning the Tree Herders' existence, one that he had dismissed as nothing more than Rohirric folktales. She had butted in at that time, with a knowing smile, "Tales that turned into rumours, and again into legends. The inevitable process of facts becoming fiction before fading away entirely."
Why with a knowing smile? Because she had once thought the exact same thing, only to have Fangorn himself tell her these same sentences. They really had struck her, for she even remembered them from all these centuries ago.
Lossiel blinked a few times, coming back to the present moment. She turned her head to look at what laid behind her, back towards the ancient forest. She couldn't see it anymore. In fact, she couldn't have for a long while now, but she simply couldn't help herself but look behind once in a while. She already missed it, but that wasn't the main reason why she kept doing so. She had had a bad feeling about the forest for—
The sensation of her right forearm being gently squeezed, as some kind of comforting gesture, pulled her out of her dark thoughts. A half-smile tugged at her lips as she figured that Legolas had both felt her head shift and sensed her worry-ridden thoughts. She also figured that he thought that she was already homesick, or maybe finally regretting to have left her haven. Well, he was right by about half. Still, she appreciated the friendly gesture and turned her head back in her original position; the side of her head barely pressing against his upper back. What she could have gone without, though, were the harmless, but a tad annoying, strands of pure blonde hair whipping at her face.
She then thought about the three acquaintances she had just made: Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn. Even if Lossiel was from Mirkwood, she wasn't as narrow-minded as many of them Wood-Elves. She had traveled so much, had met so many different people and had had to deal with so many different situations that she had grown out of despising the race of Dwarves. Besides, as the group had been conversing only a few hours earlier, she had quickly started to like Gimli.
His previous humours remarks had lightened up her mood and had made her smile. She had also been sympathetic about his unease in her beloved forest, and while they had been walking to the tree-line to meet up with Shadowfax, Hasufel and Arod, she had tried her best to lift his spirits, or at least make him less tense. She hadn't needed to see his death grip on his axe to know: she had easily sensed it. Not only that, but the trees had felt a bit threatened by his grip on his weapon and hadn't hesitated to voice their own discomfort and anger, as the other Elf had put to words. She had tired to reassure the Dwarf as she told him that none of the trees would dare try anything. She knew them; most of them were softies inside. They just didn't like to show it to strangers. It had somewhat worked, but he still hadn't let go of his weapon. She had also tried so spark a conversation to keep his mind off of them, but it had grown dead not too long afterwards.
She hadn't noticed the small smiles tugging at the lips of the other three in their company while had done so.
Her thoughts then shifted towards the man riding over on Gandalf's other side. While she had been observing them in her hiding place, she could have guessed that he was the trio's leader. Since the other two had let him done most of the talking a few moments after, it only confirmed her hypothesis. Now, though, he had deliberately handed over his position to the White Wizard.
For know, she figured that he was kind and loyal, and she also took notice of this regal aura of respect that was emanating from him. That aura had only grown stronger when he had risen after their rather extensive conversation. Lossiel really had felt like it hadn't been a Ranger in front of her at that time, but a great king. During their introduction, he had said he was Isildur's heir. She could put two and two together, she still remembered most of her historical readings all these centuries ago.
Then, the intoxicating aroma of crushed pine needles distracted her from her thoughts. It had been faint all long, but somehow, it suddenly became stronger. They had halted.
"There lies the Gap of Rohan," Gandalf informed them, looking out at the horizon of the grass plain. The long, tender green blades tickled Lossiel's knees as she considerably loosened her grip on the Elf in front of her, looking out at the crimson of the setting sun. "It is now almost west of us. That way lies Isengard." he continued.
She blinked a few times as she saw something dark grey, almost black, rising from the treacherous land. "There is much smoke over there," she solemnly pointed out.
"What may that be?" Legolas asked the Wizard.
"Battle and war," he grimly replied. "Ride on!"
They quickly urged their mounts to go on, and the She-Elf tightened once more her grasp on the other, not wanting to fall off from both speed and inaptitude. It crossed her mind that she greatly preferred walking over riding a horse, but she wouldn't be picky. They needed haste; she had rarely needed it herself lately. Living in Fangorn Forest for so long does that to you. She wondered what could possibly be unfolding in Isengard, but on second thought, no, she didn't want to know.
For the rest of the day, — more like evening — Lossiel was lost in her thoughts. I won't divulge them to you, not yet, at least. Give a girl some privacy...
Anyways, when Gandalf finally made them halt for the night, it was safe to say everyone was relieved. Muscles were stiff from the ride, legs; numb, and a certain She-Elf was glad to stand on land once more. She didn't shiver when the chilly wind picked up since temperature like this hardly had any effect on her race. She was relieved, though, that it wouldn't hinder a small fire. The night was thick, but the merry flames danced as they licked the few branches they had with them and illuminated their camp with a soft orange glow.
She wondered for a second why fire was that colour... She knew it could turn purple, green and blue, but she couldn't remember why.
Their company was tired, this much was obvious, but its stage depended on the person. For instance, Gandalf seemed perfectly fine and he even offered to stand watch. Gimli was exhausted and already snoring loudly, while Aragorn wasn't close behind, —except for that last 'snoring' part. Legolas was tired as well, but not nearly as much as the others. That didn't mean he wasn't enjoying his half-waking rest — or at least that's what the other Elf thought. She had offered to stand guard with the Wizard as well, seeing as she hadn't been running for the past few days.
That was where she was now, sitting next to the White Wizard, looking out at the equally white stars dotting the black of the sky. She didn't have much to think about anymore. There weren't any trees to speak to, nor any small plants or flowers to converse with or even comfort. Even the sky seemed dull to her.
She didn't notice she had sighed until Gandalf spoke up, in a hushed voice as to not wake the others, "Much weights upon your mind."
Blinking a few times, she half-smiled before she sighed once more, glancing at him. She lowered her voice as well. "Is it that obvious?" It was clear that she wished anything but to talk about her worries.
The old Wizard chuckled at her expected answer. "The apple does not fall far from the tree," he simply told her, making her smile.
She then plucked out a few long blades of grass and started expertly weaving a little snowflake as she replied, "I have a hard time believing that," she replied, even though she knew he was only referring to the fact that her father could be read like an opened book. "I never pictured my father adventuring all across Middle-Earth."
"That does not mean he never has, but you already know it is such," he replied with another chuckle, before his hushed town grew more serious. "He worries, you know. Your whole family does. Why have you not visited them since your departure?" He knew the answer, but she must have had a change of heart by now...
Lossiel's mood darkened as she suddenly stopped her small confection. She wasn't angry, but she wasn't happy anymore either. She kept quiet, but she resumed her artwork as the elder shook his head in disapproval. She paid him no attention as he did so. None of them noticed the previously resting Wood-Elf sit up as he curiously watched the two. They their backs to him, and he rested one of his arms on his propped up knee.
"Lady Galadriel mentioned you before I set off to Fangorn's Forest," Gandalf broke, seeing as the girl wouldn't give him a reply.
"Wha… What did she say?" she nervously asked, her mood drastically changing as she remembered the dark words she had sent to Legolas and to Aragorn, not to mention the odd ones for Gimli.
"She had a message for you as well, care to hear it?"
Lossiel simply nodded, not daring to trust her own words. What if the Lady of Light would confirm her nagging suspicions—?
"Lossiel, has snow already wearied thou?
Or rather, its chilling kiss upon thy brow?
Though the call of the unknown rings strong,
So does the esteemed sentiment to belong.
If thou fallest, do not hesitate to reach out,
For the caught hand is true beyond doubt."
"Oh..." was the She-Elf could muster, not quite sure what to think. She realized that when the Lady's words were meant for you, you couldn't quite put your finger on their meaning even if they seemed quite straightforward. "Thank you," she still managed, fidgeting with her finished work of art.
"She also had this for you," the other said, smiling at her verbalized appreciation, as he took out from one of his pockets a small wrapped bundle.
It was roughly the size of his hand, a bit bigger, almost shaped like a square and flat, maybe a few centimetres thick. There wasn't any point in asking him what it was, for it was plain to see that it hadn't been opened before. She gingerly took it from him, and was surprised that it was heavier than she first thought it would be. It was still pretty light, thought, and it was also rigid.
Carefully, she began to slowly rid the curious bundle of its mallorn leaf wrapping, only to find a dark navy blue leather-bound book. Well, she would only take note of its colour when the Sun's light would beat down onto it the next morning. It had snowflake engravings on its spine, which overflowed by a few centimetres on both sides of the cover. Every snowflake was uniquely designed, shining sweet silver against the moonlight on the smooth leather surface of the book. It had strong slender strings to tie it shut, but they seemed to lose themselves into the leather, leaving no traces nor lumps in the book's design.
Turning the hard cover page with delicate fingers, Lossiel noticed that, even though the pages seemed to be silver when the book was shut, they were pure white and smooth as satin. It turned out that only the pages' edges were silver. On its first page, it was written in its centre, in Elvish and in the prettiest handwriting she had ever seen, 'To immortalize sweet melodies, with a quill that never empties.' There was no need of any signature, for the She-Elf knew it had been written by the Lady of Lothlórien herself.
Since she hadn't seen a quill, she looked inside the mallorn wrapping that had been left intact — for she had slid the book out of it — and then found the aforementioned writing instrument. Its colour perfectly marched her new leather-bound book, and so did the intricate snowflake designs engraved on its cap. There was a thin silver ring that visually separated the quill pen's slender body from its cap when they were connected, and Lossiel carefully unscrewed them, only to find its oddly-shaped silver pointed tip. Never before had she seen such writing instrument, nor did she know how to call it, but the simple and familiar term 'quill' was perfectly fine for her.
"What a curious instrument," the Wizard thoughtfully said. "May I?"
Nodding, she carefully handed her what she had just received. Gandalf observed the odd tube-like instrument, deducting its purpose. "I would say the ink is stored in this, here," he said, showing her the tube.
She nodded, since she had drawn the same conclusion. "The tip, here, is like a feather's. The ink trickles down to it, I believe. The Lady wrote that it would not deplete."
"A valuable gift indeed."
Lossiel could only nod in agreement as he gave her her priceless quill back. "I shall thank her in person, once this war is over." She looked up at the wizard and said, "Thank you, Mithrandir. I can only imagine that you had accepted my offer to join you because the Lady of Light had told you so."
He chuckled, making her narrow her eyes in confusion. "No, actually, it is she that had foretold that I would accept it. She simply made the best of it," he replied. "You remember what she told you the first time you met?"
"A friend of Gandalf's is also a friend of mine," she replied in a reminiscing tone and a content smile. She could never forget her kind words.
"Yes," he then kindly replied. "Now, off to bed, young lady. We leave in a few hours' time, and rest you shall need."
It was at that point the elven prince laid back down, feigning elven rest.
"But I am keeping watch with you!" she protested, her hushed voice rising a bit.
"I appreciate it, but your muscles still need the rest," he insisted. "The ground may not be quite as inviting as an old tree's strong branch, but it suffices just as much."
"Alright, alright..." she resigned, since he had voiced much of her own thoughts. She stood up, bringing her book, her quill and the wrapping leaves with her as she said, "Good watch, I shall see you in the morning."
He hummed a response as she walked away, noticing the grass snowflake she had forgotten behind. He smiled at how much better she had grown at these since the last time he saw her as he gently took it in his fingers. His smile faded when another thought crossed his mind. Lady Galadriel was right; she has been in Fangorn Forest for too long, practically wasting away without even noticing it were so.
A.N. Thanks for reading! Now you know a bit more about Lossiel, and I'm sure you can guess what her name means in Sindarin. XD Anyways, what did you think? Was this chapter boring or not? :3 Too slow, too fast, or just right? Any objections or pointers so far about my OC's personality? I'd love to know, and constructive criticism is always welcomed~ :3 Oh, and I'm so proud of it! It was the first time I ever wrote one! XD
BTW, Fangorn's 'quote' comes from what Pirate Roberts says once in Assassin's Creed: Black Flag. You know, "Tales that turned into rumour […] before fading away entirely." I just had to~