Chapter 54

The Long-awaited Departure

The grey-cloaked elves rode in silence. There were two banner-bearers that rode in the front, and three that served as their lookout. The King and his Lady were in different horses, but their hands were clasped tightly. Amroth had forsaken his crown and left it in his chamber at the palace, along with all his other personal belongings. His formal and luxurious robes as King of Lórinand were left and replaced by a simple travelling robe, green and gold. The images of his father flashed before him, and with each step of his white horse, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Beside him, Nimrodel looked happier; the smile that he missed was once again on her beautiful face. And there, he knew; he was doing the right thing.

Behind him, Erynlith and Orgilion followed in equal silence. No words fell in between the two elves, and Orgilion did not wonder anymore. Glancing at her, he saw Erynlith's eyes were absent-mindedly focused on the reins of her black horse, her grip none too gentle. She huddled closer to the grey cloak that she wore, her bow and quiver fastened behind her back. Orgilion knew it was supposed to be a long journey; he brought nothing but his armour and sword. His brown hair flew with the wind.

"Chief Marchwarden." A soft voice snapped him back to reality.

Looking behind him, he saw one of the Silvan maiden rode towards him and come between him and Erynlith. She had pale golden hair like Lady Nimrodel, and her eyes were grey as the cloudless night. She was smiling as she approached the warrior. Orgilion recognized this one; she was one of the handmaidens of Lady Nimrodel. But the name, he had forgotten.

"My lady," he greeted her with a small smile. "Enjoying the journey so far?"

The Silvan maiden nodded enthusiastically. She had been Erynlith's attendant during her brief stay in the forest. "I am. How long would it take for us to reach the White Mountains?"

Orgilion narrowed his eyes and estimated the distance. The White Mountains would at least be a few days ahead of them. The small staff of elves was moving at a rather slow pace; if he had been an impatient elf, he would have urged their horses to run until reaching the mountains. He wouldn't have done that; the King wanted to take his time travelling and his cousin, the sombre Sindarin elf who rode beside him, looked unhappy with the turn of events.

And so, he answered Mithrellas's question cordially. She kept on asking more and more questions, and he answered with all his power.

"Are you sailing with us to the West?" Mithrellas asked again.

"I suppose not. The Elvenking personally asked me to watch over Erfaron." When he said that, he looked beside him and saw Erynlith riding away, her head lowered, as though she didn't want to hear the conversation. Orgilion sighed and knew for a long time that King Amroth's plan was to leave Lórinand in her hands after all.

"What about the other wardens? Would they follow to the West, too?"

"Perhaps." He smiled a fatherly smile and felt the urge to pat Mithrellas on the head. She sounded like an elfling. "When they finally have enough of this land, they would sail West."

Ahead of the small group, Nimrodel could not help but hum a tune to herself, while her right hand still held Amroth's left. She was so happy to leave the miserable forest that had been overrun by orcs and wargs and dwarves long as long as she could remember. Initially she felt sadness upon knowing that she could not see Lórinand any longer; it was her home long before King Oropher and King Amdír showed up in the forest and claimed it as they own and called themselves Elvenkings. She had seen how Lórinand started from a small forest into a great one, and watched in satisfaction as golden trees grew and blossomed each year. She would miss everyone she had known, all the friends she made and the people she genuinely cared about; she already missed the river beside her home, the one in which she spent all those times staring at her reflection and dipping her feet into the cold water.

Nimrodel looked at her beloved again and frowned. She saw that he was not smiling at all; his eyes stared blankly up ahead. He was flanked by two of Orgilion's most experienced wardens, while the young wardens (which included Haldir and his brothers) were left behind in Lórinand.

"Amroth," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "What bothers you?"

The great Elvenking turned to her and shook his head. "Nothing at all. I just hope Thranduil receives the letter I sent to him."

"Yes." She nodded. "I am sure he reads it right now and understands our decision. He loves you like a brother."

"If he had a brother," Amroth said, laughing softly, "he would not feel so lonely in his woods."

"Do you feel lonely?"

"No, not while you're here." He smiled and kissed her hand. "Though I worry about what happens next when Eryn returns to the forest." He looked back and saw their subject riding behind the company, neither singing nor taking to someone. He felt sorry for her, and he wished he could make her smile again like the olden days. But this was his decision now.

Nimrodel nodded again. "You should have sent for Lord Elrond instead," she told him. "Perhaps he could be of help."

For the first time since leaving the forest, Amroth smiled a little. "No, I am sure Thranduil already has it covered."

The Chief Counsellor of Greenwood was nervous when she first read that letter. She read it not out of disrespect or suspicion for the King, but Thranduil himself specifically instructed her to read all letters that might come and go, especially those that came from the neighbouring golden forest. She had thanked the scout who delivered it to her chambers, and had to clear her desk from all the parchments and quills to make way for the letter. It was signed by Amroth himself, written on silver ink, and addressed assistance to Thranduil.

Celairis did not know whether to show it to the King or dump it underneath her bed. When the name Erfaron was mentioned in the letter, her bright blue eyes immediately read whatever that was about Erfaron and felt herself sweating. She bit her lower lip, uncertain and really nervous. Would she tell the King about this? Not only that, but Amroth mentioned about his departure, and Celairis felt sorry not to be able to bid farewell to him and Nimrodel.

For the umpteenth time since receiving it, she read and studied the contents, made herself look presentable, and went for the King.

It was not hard to locate him. Ever since the marchwarden from Lórinand arrived last week, Thranduil had been talking with the Captain of the Guards regarding the safety of the great forest. As what Thranduil shared to her before, he wanted to do something about those lingering wargs, especially when it was winter and those creatures were desperate to look for food.

"Ah, Celairis." Thranduil seemed to be in a good mood, again stemming from last week's visit of the marchwarden. He sat at the head of a long table, wearing a robe of blue silk and a crown of beige leaves. He was smiling when the dark-haired counsellor entered, and his hand gestured her to come closer.

Beside the King was Raithon, clad in his green tunic and brown leather vest. He smiled as well and nodded to her.

"Good morning, Aran nín." She smiled pleasantly at the King, taking advantage of his agreeable mood.

"What have you there?" Thranduil eyed the letter in her hands and sipped lightly on his goblet of wine. There was a small platter of biscuits near his elbow where the Captain of the Guards leaned over to get some. "An important letter, I assume."

"Yes." Celairis nodded and offered the letter, though her mind protested against it.

It was already late for the King had taken hold of the parchment now, unfolded it, and began reading.

The time he spent reading seemed to stretch forever, at least to Celairis. She watched his pale blue eyes move here and there. He must have read something for his eyes narrowed and his breath hitched in his throat. To keep herself from losing composure, the counsellor took a deep breath and munched on some biscuits. Its cracking noise was deafening to her with each bite. Her eyes looked at Raithon, who stood beside the King's chair, motionless. He did not round behind and read over the King's shoulder; it was disrespectful.

After a long while, Thranduil laid down the parchment and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"My King?" Celairis was the first to break the silence, almost desperate what he would do now.

Again, Thranduil drank his wine until he finished it in three large gulps. He needed some time to think and gather his thoughts. Yes, he needed to be alone and think about this thoroughly. Lórinand without a ruler, the Nandorin folk uncertain and confused, Erfaron to take her cousin's throne, and Thranduil to help her adjust—all of these were the contents of Amroth's last letter to him. His friend had bidden him farewell and good luck in this last letter of his. Without Amroth and Nimrodel, what was Thranduil to do? For well nigh two thousand years they lived in Lórinand and had always been there to help Thranduil. Now, it was the other way around.

"Thranduil?" Raithon spoke up, sounding concerned. "What happened?"

"I—" The King began, unsure what to claim. Go to Lórinand and help? Stay here and rule? Send someone to catch up with Amroth and slap some sense in him? His mind was conflicted whether to go or not; if he did, he knew exactly what would be waiting for him in the forest. And he was certainly not yet prepared to face her. No, not Erynlith, and not this time.

Celairis had had enough. "King Amroth and Lady Nimrodel have left for the West," she announced boldly.

"What?" Raithon gasped. "I-Impossible! What would happen to—"

"Erfaron would take King Amroth's place," she continued, and saw the change of expression on the King's pale face. She knew at once that his good mood was gone, and now replaced into something hateful because she overstepped her boundary as Chief Counsellor... again.

Thranduil stood up, knocking over the chair. "Raithon, prepare for the necessary arrangements."

"Really?" The Captain of the Guards beamed at him, running to his side and grinning. "Are we really going?"

"Yes." The King sighed and rubbed his temple. "Prepare everything needed and we leave as soon as we receive another letter from Lórinand."

Celairis stood up, defiantly. "But my King—what if Erfaron sails as well?"

His steps halted at once, eyes widening at the realization. Was it possible for Erynlith to accompany Amroth across the Sea? It sounded plausible, considering how close the cousins were. There was something in the back of his mind that was telling him otherwise; and, turning back to look at his counsellor, he said, "I know Erynlith. She would not leave Middle-earth."

The thundering hooves drew closer to the small campsite of the elves. No one seemed to notice at first except for Orgilion. The hooves outside sounded louder and stronger. He snatched his sword and jumped out of the tent. Dawn was not even breaking when their assailers arrived. A whole caravan of horse-riders showered them with arrows that stabbed the ground. His eyes widened at the realization; these were no orcs, but the Men that lived in those regions. More arrows flew past his shoulder. Orgilion quickly returned into the tent and grabbed Erynlith.

"It's an ambush!" He exclaimed and pulled her wrist. She was still half-asleep when Orgilion mounted her on a black horse. The Nandorin elves were roused and the marchwardens tried fighting back. He hated to admit but they stood no chance against such robust horse-riders. Not only were they outnumbered, but the enemies were well-equipped.

King Amroth and Nimrodel emerged from their tent, hands clasped together. On one hand, the King held aloft his long sword as Mithrellas pulled Nimrodel towards a nearby horse. The two maidens struggled when one rider approached them and kicked Mithrellas on the shoulder. Orgilion, who saw the whole thing, was enraged and abandoned Erynlith to rescue the maidens. When the rider tried to kick Nimrodel as well, Orgilion caught the man's foot and forced him off the horse. The man fell on the ground, moaning as his chin hit a boulder. Seeking for comfort, the maiden clutched the Chief Marchwarden's tunic and held on tight.

"You'll be fine," Orgilion softly assured her and helped her ride on his white horse.

"Orgilion!" King Amroth shouted, him and his marchwardens holding off more riders. "Get the ladies out of here!"

The hulking warden nodded and turned back to the worried Nimrodel. He stooped to whisper something to his white horse. Not long after, it bolted off into the darkness, carrying Nimrodel with it. Orgilion helped Mithrellas to get up and pulled her toward Erynlith and the black horse. He was surprised to see the minstrel now fully awake, her white bow clutched tightly in her hands. The green pennant that bore her family's heraldic device flew with the wind as she shot another arrow. Orgilion tugged onto Mithrellas's wrist again and helped her mount the waiting horse.

"Erfaron!" He called out to her. She turned and ran back towards him, silently cursing the length and heaviness of the robe.

Before she knew it, Orgilion carried her and seated her in front of the horse.

"What are you doing?!" Erynlith rasped, attempting to dismount again.

But Orgilion shook his head violently. "No! Get yourself out of here! I have sent Lady Nimrodel off into the White Mountains. You must go after her and take her to the Havens. King Amroth and I will follow." He glanced back at the ensuing chaos behind him. King Amroth and the wardens were losing t he fight. "You have to hurry!"

"Just reach the Havens, you say?"

"Yes! The Havens! Go now!" Orgilion slapped the rear of the black horse but did not wait for them to disappear. For one thing, he trusted Erynlith's intuition regarding travels; she did not spend centuries travelling with Gildor for nothing. Orgilion took up his sword again and went to the aid of the King.

The small camp was utterly destroyed by the horse-riders. As the dawn came, the riders pressed on and forced the elves to retreat from the riverside and towards the White Mountains where Nimrodel had disappeared into. Without horses, the remaining elves were strained to run for their lives, seeking refuge at the haze feet of the mountains. There, the horse-riders forsook the chase and returned to their lands, beyond the river and into the fields. King Amroth was grieved; the once many elves were now decreased. Few wardens remained alive. Orgilion tended to the injured ones, tearing a part of his white tunic and wrapping it on a bleeding wound. The handmaidens who travelled with them were all alive and were fearful of what was yet to come.

"We need to reach the Havens," Amroth whispered to Orgilion, his back facing him. "It is impossible for them to reach the Havens without difficulty. I am worried about Nimrodel. We have to move on."

"Some of the wardens need rest," Orgilion insisted. "I will not worry much about them. I have told Erfaron to watch over them. You should trust her."

"Trust?" Amroth scoffed and turned to the warrior. "For all I know, my betrothed and my cousin are somewhere in these dreadful, cold mountains… lost, alone, hungry! For all I know, there could be more of those wicked horse-riders, or even worse, a large band of orcs hiding underneath the mountains! I have seen many felled creatures in my lifetime, Orgilion, and I will not lose Nimrodel to one of them!"

Orgilion looked sternly at the former King, and Amroth quickly regretted his raising of voice. He cast his grey eyes down, settling them onto the ground.

"I am sorry," he whispered. "I allowed my disturbed mind to think about the negative. You're right; we should trust on Erynlith. She is not called Erfaron for nothing, is she?"

Suddenly, Chief Marchwarden bellowed loud laughter. "Exactly, my Lord."

Mithrellas tightened her arms around the waist of the rider. Her unsteady eyes looked around the unfamiliar mountains, each corner and boulder and crevice she tried to remember. The stony pathway was misty in the early morning; though it was late in autumn, she felt cold for the White Mountains were capped with thick blankets of snow. She silently leaned closer on the elf in front of her; the thick blue robe was warm and fuzzy. She guessed it had been some two hours now since the ambush in their camp. But her Lady Nimrodel was yet to be found. She even doubted that Erfaron was trying to search for her.

"Erfaron," Mithrellas suddenly said, savouring the taste of the name in her mouth. She had never been close to the minstrel until she was instructed to be her handmaiden for a few weeks.

"Yes?" Erynlith answered quietly, her grey eyes fixed on the road up ahead. She led her horse up towards a steep pathway. There was no doubt that they were ascending and crossing the mountain now.

"Um, are we not looking for Lady Nimrodel?" Mithrellas asked politely.

"We are following her tracks," came the quiet answer from the Sindarin elf.

Mithrellas could tell that Erfaron was not in a really good mood to talk. But she continued, "I see no tracks…"

"There are tracks," Erynlith answered rather impatiently which made the other elf blink. She began gesturing on the road underneath them, pointing on some daunted soil and rolled rocks. "If you look closely over there, you can make out an image of a horse's hoof print. It trails all the way up and further into the mountain. And there are no other pathways except for this. Nimrodel may not be an adept traveller, but Orgilion's horse is."

"If we muster the horse faster, we can catch up to her," Mithrellas suggested.

Erynlith shook her head. "Yes, we can do that. But I am not familiar with this place. If we try to make a run for it, we might lose the footprints and be lost ourselves. Who knows who lives in the corners of the boulders?"

Mithrellas shrugged at that thought. It would really be dangerous to draw attention to themselves by having the horse neighing and galloping about. The White Mountains were particularly quiet, as though only the Dead live in there. She pressed closer to her companion, fearing what could be lurking behind every crevice.

A brief howling of a wolf roused them both.

"Oh, give me a break!" Erynlith groaned as she clutched her white bow. Her quiver was almost emptied from that morning's ambush, and she could not afford to lose arrows. She felt Mithrellas pressing closer to her, burying her face on the thick blue robe that smelled of rosemary.

When chance came that another wolf howled, Erynltih clicked on her heels and sent the horse running down the pathway. She could not care anymore if they lost Nimrodel's tracks; two lives needed to be saved in that very moment, and those lives were hers and Mithrellas's. The horse jumped and turned at each corner, further advancing into an unknown land. The mist had gotten thicker and thicker, but the howling did not cease behind them. The horse finally stopped to catch its breath. Erynlith smiled and patted the horse, but the chase was not yet ended. A deep cackling of creatures greeted them.

"Erfaron," Mithrellas whispered sharply behind. "You have to get us out of here."

"Way ahead of you." Erynlith snatched an arrow and fired a warning shot whence the cackle came from. The two elves heard a sharp hissing and scream; the arrow had found its mark. What followed next was scampering of feet towards them.

The black horse bolted again and pressed against a long line of orcs. The orcs pulled on to the elves' dresses and robes, tore them, but did not lay a finger on them. The strength of the horse prevailed and the elves continued on to their aimless journey. Mithrellas looked back at the orcs, wishing that none would emerge from the thick fog anymore. As though her wishes were granted, no more orcs seemed to follow after them. Her grip on her companion's robes loosened and she heaved a deep sigh.

"That was close."

Erynlith smiled. "I know. You okay back there?"

"Yes!" Mithrellas eagerly nodded, finally finding the travel worthwhile.

Nimrodel did not have the words to calm the exhausted steed. The Sun had fully-risen when she dismounted it and sat beside a long river. The grey cloak that she wore was heavy, prompting her to discard it and leave it on the ground. The rushing waves of the river soothed her and brought a smile on her face. Pulling on the reins of Orgilion's white horse, she held on tightly to it and dipped her tired feet into the cool waters. She sighed in relief.

Home, she thought.

Indeed, she missed Lórinand so badly. To think that she would be forced to leave it because of the evil that spread in Middle-earth turned her smile into a frown. She looked at her reflection on the water; the same golden-haired Nandorin elf looked back at her. But in the reflection, the blue eyes were sad and unsatisfied. And she was. With no one else except the horse, she felt utterly lost. No Amroth. No Erfaron. No Orgilion. No one. She did not know which road to take, which corner to turn.

Lost, very lost, came her thoughts again.

And where would she proceed? Nimrodel knew the Havens were located somewhere in the South, but only Amroth knew exactly where. Initially, she thought the horse would take her there, but eventually, she felt rather silly to believe such a thing. Horses were mindless creatures, were they not? Though the beauty of Orgilion's horse was exceptional, it still knew nothing of her purpose.

She closed her eyes and felt the water touching her skin. It calmed her. Lost time can never be found again, she thought.

Amroth and Orgilion journeyed further. For countless days and nights, they wandered in silence without horses, camps, and most especially, without their three companions. Never did they stop at night to make camp; there was a lesson that was well-learned already. The elves were in complete silence; the former King's banner mired with dust and blood. They followed the course of the river for the White Mountains were known for its seven rivers. One they followed, what Amroth confirmed as Morthond, which flowed in the western part of the mountain.

"The Havens should be at the end of this river," Amroth said. He had allowed for small group to rest for the night. They made sure they were hidden behind the boulders that surrounded the feet of the Mountain, whilst Orgilion stood by on patrol. The former King sighed tiredly, his eyes filled with sincere concern. "I wonder if they had reached the Havens, Orgilion…"

At the mention of his name, the warden looked up. He, too, had been worrying about the same matter for days. If both Nimrodel and Erynlith followed the river, it should only take them a few days to reach the Havens. Arriving there would be faster for both were mounted on steeds. And he tried looking on the brighter side of things.

"Don't you think we should journey now?" Amroth asked worriedly again, looking at the pensive warden.

Finally, Orgilion shook his head and spoke, "I would advise for you to wait, King Amroth. Think of the well-being of your companions for a moment. I am sure wherever they are, all three are safe."

Deep inside, he wished his words were real.

Next Chapter: Some things are better to be lost.

Author's Notes: Hello f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶s̶i̶d̶e̶! How are you all doing, friends? I had a rough week but it's always good to be back here. We've got Amroth and Nimrodel travelling to the Havens in this chapter. Currently, Erynlith doesn't know about the matters of her succession to her cousin's crown—whereas the news already reached as far as Greenwood. Thranduil, Thranduil, wherefore art thou, Thranduil?

*crazykenz - In Tolkien's texts, Amroth did leave his kingdom for Nimrodel. She's a lucky girl, if you ask me. *sighs* But in the way I see it, book-Amroth was torn between choosing his forest and Nimrodel. In the end, however, he chose to be with her and abandoned his kingdom. LOL. Thank you! It is really hard to update using mobile. I'm not really used in typing large chunks of text on the phone, so by the time I finished typing replies for last chapters, my fingers were numb. But it was worth it! :D

*Rosiethehobbit17 - Thranduil's kinda right, you know: somebody should go and slap some sense to Amroth's mind. OMG! Shall I say congratulations for the upcoming wedding and baby? I don't know why but I suddenly feel excited for you! The wedding doesn't have to be so grand (or are you planning for a big wedding?) Good thing it all happened after college. May I ask about the baby (shall we call him/her an "elfling", too?) (* ω)

*Zip001 - As always, nice observation on the dream, Zip! I am not going to spoil about the Marchwarden thing. We'll get there later in the story. Thank you for understanding the Nimrodel dilemma; she has truly grown terrified of the world that she even pulls others along with her, as if to share of her burden. Also, I was surprised you remember Eryn taking charge of Greenwood during the war. It seemed so loooong ago now. I do think she would be a more lighthearted and energetic ruler than both Amroth and Thranduil combined.

*xSiriuslyPadfoot - Ninny Nimrodel and her antics! Amroth's decisions going to make a huge impact afterwards...

*juliacensi95 - Welcome back, Guilia! I missed you~! It's okay that you didn't get to reply the last time; I understand because I am busy with school works, too. I've got reports and research papers to finish, yet here I am! And I am in the middle of finishing a book so school works could wait a little longer! :)

Sorry if I didn't make Eryn and Thrandy meet previously, but cousin Amroth has found a way to get them back together! Hopefully it works for both of them. Kudos to cutesy Haldir and his s̶e̶c̶r̶e̶t̶ love for food while in the King's Halls! Now with Eryn so oblivious about Amroth's orders, she would never know what is waiting for her until she gets back to Lórinand. Would there be chaos? Most likely...

Thank you for the lengthy review! You know I always love reading long comments. Good luck in school and hope the professors would consider giving us students a break! I can't wait to start the holiday vacation already. Have a great day, Guilia~!

*Lovitall - Wow! Three days! I salute you! Thank you so much for taking time to read! I'm glad you appreciate the characters' interactions and how their relationships with each other turn out, whether it is good or bad. Awww, now I think of little baby Legolas with Daddy Thrandy. That'd be so cute! Oh and thank you very much for the birthday greeting!

*Lord Illyren - Plot twist indeed, m'lord. Eryn's going to flip out. LOL.

*Gremalow - Thank you! The mobile feature of this site is very helpful, but I think I'd rather stick with updating through the computer. ;)

*Janssen - Thrandy and Eryn together's gonna make Glorfy pretty sad... Now I just have to stop crying over our favourite warrior...

*Elentar - Queen of the Forest, you say? Eryn won't like it, but Thrandy's going to be thrilled for sure!

*Omorfi Enas - I hope you're finding the weekly updates good, my friend. Thank you for the review!

*Overlord Rousdower - Sshhh, my Dark Lord. Do not be scared, here's a teddy bear to help cast your fears away...