CHAPTER IV

A DIFFICULT CROSSING

Night waned, and their watch remained uneventful. As dawn approached at last, dark blue skies softened to pink and purple hues. It would be a glorious day, Annalyn thought, her eyes skimming the peaceful fortress of trees as it gradually filled with soft light.

With any luck, her company would cross the river today, and then journey onward until they said farewell to this forest and the sentinels who guarded it. The Galadhrim.

It was strange to think how just a few hours ago she had wanted nothing more than to hasten out of here, to flee this place and the Elves who had barred their way. In fact, following the ambush, Annalyn had sorely regretted setting foot here. But now…

She wasn't going to lie; the greater part of her was looking forward to getting underway, to breathe the open air and gather the medicine her village needed. Yet in a tiny corner of her heart, Annalyn was sorry to be leaving so soon, for in all her travels she had never seen as fair a forest as this one.

A faint breeze rustled the leaves overhead, a perfect companion to the lulling sights around her. While the air had yet to warm, Annalyn no longer felt the chill, thanks to the elven cordial Haldir had given her.

Initially, the wary part of her had been reluctant to try it. But when the chill had settled into her bones, making her shiver, her desire for warmth had eclipsed her trepidation enough for her to risk it—tasting but a tiny drop at first. Then she had waited. Feeling no ill-effects, Annalyn had taken an actual sip then waited some more. This, she had repeated until—much to her relief and delight—the elven drink had worked exactly as Haldir had said it would. Even now, its effects lingered, suffusing her entire being with radiating warmth.

Her thoughts circling back to the previous night, Annalyn had to own that the gift had altered her perception somewhat, forcing her to admit that her initial impressions might have been wrong after all. This place, the Elves who guarded it… perhaps they weren't so bad.

That wasn't to say that she trusted the Elves entirely. They still needed to make true on their promise. But after last night, Annalyn was at least open to the possibility that she had misjudged them. Haldir especially, at least when it came to certain things.

Yes, he was clearly distrustful. And yes, he was unyielding, with a stoic and conceited manner that rubbed her the wrong way. But that being said, he might not be… unkind. In the waning hours of the night, as they had stood watch together, Haldir had actually been courteous, thoughtful. That, coupled with their brief exchange about those flowers—mallos, he had called them—only bolstered her suspicions that there might be many layers to him, hidden beneath that stern and commanding exterior of his.

Thinking it was time to wake her uncle and cousin, Annalyn pushed herself away from the tree. As her feet carried her across the dell, she noted that Orophin and Rúmil were conversing quietly amongst themselves, not far from where the horses were tethered. The only notable absence was Haldir, as he had been called away a short while ago.

Upon reaching her kin, Annalyn bent down. "Wake up, uncle," she said, giving a slight shake to his shoulder before straightening again. When she neared her cousin, however, Annalyn's playful side emerged. With a mirthful expression, she nudged him with the side of her boot. "That is quite enough sleep. We'll be off soon."

Grumbling under his breath, Aldin returned her mischief by grabbing a handful of leaves and tossing them in her direction. When these failed to reach her, amused laughter bubbled in her throat.

Sitting up, Aldin simply shook his head and smiled.

And so their day began.

As was the case with most of their meals, breakfast was a hasty affair. Once they had eaten, the group gathered their supplies and secured them to their horses.

"Where is our guide?" Aldin inquired as he worked to adjust the strap of his saddle.

Annalyn shrugged and was about to speak when Haldir finally came into view. Sunlight glinting off his golden hair, he dropped from the lower perches of a tree, and landed with fluid grace. "There he is."

She watched him for a moment longer. Haldir had said he meant them no harm, that he would lead them out of here. Perhaps she should give him the benefit of the doubt. A part of her wanted to. So then maybe she would, albeit cautiously, with both eyes open.

After a brief discussion with her uncle, Haldir joined his brothers by the water's edge.

"Ready to leave?" Feran asked his kin as he neared.

"As ready as we'll ever be," Aldin answered, mounting his horse.

Doing the same, Annalyn watched from her saddle as Haldir made his way over, his brothers trailing after him. His deep blue eyes momentarily connecting with hers, he addressed them in a level but commanding tone. "You will follow me."

They did.


Sunlight glinted through the trees, casting shimmering patterns on the group as they wound their way among the mallorn-trees, always within view of the River Celebrant. Leading the party, Haldir and Rúmil had set a steady pace. Behind them, Feran and his kin followed on horseback, whilst Orophin brought up the rear.

Allowing Rúmil to continue forth, Haldir slowed and waited for Feran to catch up. Like the previous evening, the man was quiet, watchful of his surroundings—not that he blamed him. Indeed, Haldir understood his lingering vigilance. Feran was the company leader, after all. And as such, his decisions affected not only himself, but the two who deferred to him.

"This river might not be Anduin the Great," Feran said as he surveyed the silvery current beyond the tree line, "but I will own, its waters are daunting."

"Celebrant can indeed be treacherous," Haldir said, "especially if one is not mindful. The current is strong, and its waters issue from high up the Misty Mountains, and are therefore quite cold." So cold, the Elves did not generally venture into it.

As he fell into step beside Feran's horse, Haldir looked to the aging man. "It is fortunate you passed when you did. At any other time, Celebrant runs too deep and cannot be crossed with horses."

"It is a strange name you call it," Feran said.

"To your ears it might be strange in sound perhaps, but the meaning is the same. Celebrant means Silvercourse."

"Is that so?"

The horses' hooves thudded on the mossy ground, the sound blending with those of the forest.

Haldir said, "I feel I should warn you—the crossing is not without risk."

"I had presumed as much," Feran replied then asked if he could speak frankly.

"It is my belief that words should always be truthful," Haldir said. Though, in his view, wisdom and caution came in knowing which ones to withhold and which ones to say aloud.

"Even now, I am still uncertain what to make of you," Feran offered at last. "But if you help us, as you say you will… You shall have my heartfelt gratitude and my thanks." The man's disquiet receded enough for his smile to reach his eyes. "It is good to find helpful folk out here. It has become a rare thing nowadays."

When the company leader fell silent, Haldir assumed he had nothing more to say, but then the man spoke once more, on a sigh. "Still, I understand why you stopped us. One cannot be too cautious these days. I, too, have to be wary at times, not only for myself but for my kin who have followed me these past years. Followed without pause or complaint, where most will no longer go."

"We have noted it. There are very few travellers about."

Feran nodded in agreement. There was an air of sadness to his features. "Unless there is absolute need, few venture in the wilds these days. The plains and the mountains are growing perilous. You must have seen them. Fell folk, if they can be called such. Cruel and wicked creatures with the blackest of hearts."

"Orcs. Yes, we have seen them." Too often, it seemed.

As they passed through a bright swath of sunlight, Feran threw a lingering look over at his kin, one of fatherly affection, but one that held a trace of doubt. Indeed, it seemed to Haldir that the man might be second-guessing himself and his decision to lead his kin out here.

It was understandable. Haldir could even relate on some level, for as Marchwarden, he held similar responsibility, though on a much larger scale. Every decision, every action had to be weighed with the utmost care. A wrong choice might cost a life, or many lives. It was a heavy burden to bear, but one he would never forsake.

As a breeze swept around him, stirring his hair and the hem of his cloak, Haldir found that he was reassessing his views. As he pondered the events of the past day, he wondered if he had misjudged this man and his company. Admittedly, they were not as difficult as he had first assumed. Even the young man, Haldir admitted grudgingly—though he had yet to digest the fact that Aldin had nearly harmed a mallorn.

All that aside, the company had done all that he had asked of them. Heedful of his warning, they even seemed mindful of the forest. As they rode, they strayed not from the old road and took care not to trample the growth. Having maintained a careful watch over them, Haldir could tell that they respected one another, and that their bonds of kinship were strong. Furthermore, given that they had travelled all this way, over wide and hostile terrain, it was clear they had courage in their hearts—a trait Haldir admired.

Surprisingly enough, he was rather intrigued. Instead of a quiet life on the plains of Rohan, they chose to wander the wilds of Middle-earth, risking their lives for the sake of their village. So many leagues, he thought, so many perils. And yet they could still laugh and jest, as he had witnessed before the ambush, and then again last night, when the company had sat together, laughing over an embarrassing incident that had befallen the maid when she had been but a child.

Even now, they remained unaware that Haldir understood the Rohirric tongue, that his elven ears could overhear all that they said. Some might say he was lying by omission, but the company had made assumptions, and never bothered to ask. As for Haldir, he had only acted in the best interest of the realm, to ensure that this company was, in fact, being truthful—which he now felt certain they were. Now whether or not he would reveal the truth, Haldir had not yet decided. They might feel betrayed if they knew. No longer willing to trust the Elves, they might even become obstinate, making the task of leading them out of the forest harder than it needed to be.

"Strange this forest." Spoken on a wondrous murmur, the words drew his attention, making him slow once again. When Annalyn saw that Haldir was waiting for her, she erased the wonder from her face. With a neutral glance at the surrounding woods, she clarified, "I have never seen such trees before."

"You would not have," Haldir noted. "Mallyrn are found nowhere else in Middle-earth."

"Nowhere?"

"Long ago, the Elves of Tol Eressëa brought these trees to Númenor where they grew near the Bay of Eldanna." As they walked on, Haldir noted that Aldin had brought his horse a little closer, as though he wished to listen in. "In later years, mallyrn-nuts were planted in Middle-earth, but only took root here, in Lothlórien."

"Lothlórien," Annalyn echoed, trying to match the elvish pronounciation. When her attempt fell short, however, soft laughter rose in her throat and she looked down. A blush of embarrassment had crept onto her cheeks. "I am afraid I can do no justice to your language."

The fact that she had tried pleased Haldir. "You did better than you think."

Her blush deepened at that, but then she gathered herself, and her features grew serious once more. "Long have I travelled the wilds. In Rohan, Eriador, and now Rhovanion, yet never had I beheld an Elf. At least not until yesterday." She was eyeing him now, assessing.

"Our dealings with outsiders are few and far between, it is true," Haldir offered in return. "In fact, it is long since strangers have crossed our borders."

They marched in silence for some time, edging the river as it flowed eastward. As the party started down a soft incline, Haldir noted the skill with which Annalyn sat in the saddle, how she used her core to balance herself instead of relying on the reins. Once her horse had negotiated the hill, and the forest floor had flattened out, Annalyn patted the animal's neck then ventured a question. "Looking at this forest, I have been trying to imagine where you all live, whether it is a village or a city. Could you tell me of it? Of your home?"

"It is not my custom to speak of Lórien with outsiders."

The maid stiffened at his apparent refusal. Evenly, she said, "I suppose I understand your caution. Forget I asked."

But unbeknownst to Annalyn, Haldir was mulling it over.

The race of Men was young, their lives so fleeting that the current generations had only ever seen the world as it now was. Not so for the Elves. The Galadhrim remembered. They lamented and regretted the fair places that had come and gone. And now, in the Third Age of this world, they dwelt in the one place in all of Middle-earth that had been forgotten by time, a place where the beauty of the past yet endured.

"You mistake my meaning," Haldir said at length. While he would never endanger his people by revealing too much, he supposed there was no harm in giving a vague description, especially since it was now clear to him that the maid posed no threat—the same for her kin. Moreover, instinct told him Annalyn had a good heart.

Even with her guarded expression, Haldir discerned an innate curiosity in her eyes, a genuine fascination with the living world around her. He liked that, and felt he could make an exception, this one time. "I do not usually speak of it, but I will do so now."

Her mouth curved in a soft smile.

Eyes returning to their path, Haldir told her of Caras Galadhon and its towering mellyrn which grew upon a hill of green. As he went on, Annalyn listened with rapt attention, her eyes filled with wonder as he described the countless lights that could be seen among the boughs once night had fallen.

His feet carrying him in a leisurely stride, Haldir laid his palm on the horse's neck. As he spoke of his home, his thoughts were invariably drawn to the shadowy veil that was now falling upon Middle-earth. While evil and decay sought dominion over the world, Lothlórien stood as a beacon of good. But for how long, Haldir did not know. Light and dark. Love and sorrow. It seemed to him that the world would never again be as it once was. But this he kept to himself and chose instead to describe the living atmosphere in this fairest of land.

"It sounds like an incredible place," Annalyn said at last.

Haldir allowed a wistful smile. "It is."


Thus they marched, following the meandering river in a pace fit for a peaceful day. The sun warming her face, Annalyn swayed in the saddle, content to let her eyes drift upon the passing scenery.

Lothlórien. Less than a day ago, it had been but a myth, a half-remembered fairy tale from her youth. But now…

It was real. She was here, traversing the outer edges with three of its guardians.

On a sidelong glance, Annalyn regarded the enigmatic Elf who kept pace alongside her horse. For some reason she could not explain, he did not seem as intimidating today. Perhaps it was because she was rested. Or then perhaps it was simply due to the fact that he could not stare down his nose at her while she sat high in the saddle.

If she was honest, Haldir's willingness to speak of the City of the Trees had surprised her a little. The more he had talked—describing a veritable dreamscape—the more she had felt something ease in her chest, as if an invisible rope of doubt had loosened, and could very well fall from her frame, if she let it.

Their conversation had long since dwindled, but instead of joining his brother at the front of the line, Haldir walked alongside her.

Intrigued, Annalyn allowed her gaze to linger on him, taking in details she hadn't noticed before. His bow, for instance, was coiled in delicate golden leaves. Similar patterns could be seen adorning his quiver and the long hilt of his blade. Ceasing her assessment of him, Annalyn tried to suppress her amusement. Even their weapons were beautiful.

"Is something amusing?" Haldir asked without even looking at her. When he finally glanced in her direction, there was a glint in his blue eyes. A blue so deep and dark, it reminded her of the night sky when the moon was at its fullest.

Not knowing what to say, Annalyn sidestepped, her gaze sweeping the landscape when she said, "Still not believing my eyes." Seemingly satisfied with that answer, he looked ahead, but not before she caught a furtive smile.

Sometime later, as their path led them closer to the river, Haldir spoke softly over his shoulder. "I know your homeland."

Surprise flitted across her face. "You have been to Rohan?"

"I have," he said then explained. "Although we rarely venture beyond our borders, some of us are sometimes sent abroad to scout the enemy or gather news."

A smirk found its way to her lips. "And which was it?" Of course, the answer seemed fairly obvious; she wouldn't have risked the question otherwise. "Were you in Rohan to scout the Eorlingas or for the gathering of news?"

"The latter," Haldir answered. "It was some time ago but I remember it well. Seas of grass as far as the eye could see."

Haldir was about to say more when something caught his eye, severing his line of thought.

At the front of the line, Rúmil had halted atop a small hill overlooking a wide bend in the river. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he surveyed the surface then looked to Haldir, nodding.

"We have reached the crossing," Haldir explained before excusing himself and hurrying ahead.

From her saddle, Annalyn watched as the brothers conferred quietly before approaching her uncle to give instructions. Flicking the reins, she urged her horse forward, and caught the tail-end of their discussion.

"…lessen the risk, it would be wise to lighten the load on your horses," Haldir was saying to Feran. "With your permission, my sentinels can carry the bulk of your supplies across the river. If this causes worry, I assure you they can do so with ease and will not lose your belongings."

Glancing over at his kin, her uncle relayed Haldir's offer. But the trepidation in his eyes could not be missed, and matched her own. Despite her thawing feelings toward the Elves, they remained strangers to Annalyn, and they had yet to earn her trust. What if they stole away with their belongings and deserted her company on this side?

But the crossing could be treacherous without their aid. What if something happened and one of her kin was swept away?

It was with that thought that Annalyn agreed with a reluctant nod.

Riding up beside her, Aldin did the same.

As the company dismounted, and started unfastening their supplies—their bedrolls, spare furs, a tent, their saddle-bags, a hunting bow, a pot and a pan, and so on—Haldir neared the river's edge, and gave a loud whistle. From the opposite side came the echo of clear voices, and then two sentinels appeared.

When Haldir issued his orders, he did so in that beautiful language of his. On the opposing bank, one of the Elves vanished, only to return a moment later with a large coil of grey rope.

With remarkable speed, the Elf scaled a young mallorn, and started along its lowermost limb, one that stretched out above the eddying water. Having stepped out as far as he dared, the sentinel held the end of the rope then tossed the remaining bundle across the breadth of the river. As it uncoiled in the air, Haldir caught the rope, before securing the end to a nearby tree, just above the roots. By that point, the Elf on the other side had reached the ground and was doing the same.

Satisfied that the rope was taut and secure, Haldir said something to his brothers, after which Rúmil and Orophin each fetched a bedroll and a saddle-bag, and made for the line that now stretched two feet or so above the water.

At first, Annalyn was unsure how they would proceed. But when they stepped out onto the rope and over the current, her eyes went wide, and she simply stood there, stunned by what she saw.

The rope might as well have been the ground, for their gait was unchanged, their balance so perfect they saw no need to extend their arms as they walked easily along the line. When the brothers had reached the opposing bank, the two set their burdens down, and double-backed, with the other two sentinels trailing in their wake.

As the Elves continued with their task, Annalyn and her kin watched in awed-silence. Their mouths slightly agape, they would exchange glances every now and again, as if to say, "Is this real?" At last, when all their supplies had been carried to the other side, Haldir waited for his brothers. Once they had rejoined him, he turned to the company to ask if they were ready.

Answering that they were, Annalyn and her kin made for their mounts, only to halt when Haldir suggested they allow the horses to go forth without a rider on their back.

"The water runs swiftly here," he said, "and the riverbed slopes sharply on either side of the shoal. I believe it would be more prudent if the horses were unencumbered."

"I mean no disrespect, but we will not leave our horses," Feran said, much to Annalyn's relief.

"I stand with my father," Aldin said without pause or hesitation. "We ride across. If this shoal is as treacherous as you claim it to be, we will not let them venture into the water blindly, without a guiding hand."

"The choice is yours," Haldir replied. "But know that my brothers and I would follow on the rope, and remain alongside them while they navigate the shoal. We would not lead them astray."

But Feran was shaking his head. "I am sorry. We cannot risk it."

Annalyn raised her chin. In a firm but even tone, she concurred. "Cobalt is not crossing without me." Besides, how would her company get across? Certainly not by walking on a thin line of rope.

Following the unanimous decision, the Elves looked at one another. "Very well," Haldir conceded with an unreadable expression before addressing Feran. "I shall take the lead. As I follow the rope, keep to my right and proceed in a straight line, unless I say otherwise."

"Understood."

And so the company mounted their horses.

As Feran rode toward the river, Haldir started along the rope. After five or six steps, he looked over his shoulder, and called for her uncle to come forth. He did.

So this is it. Haldir was about to fulfill the first half of his promise. Despite being gladdened and relieved, Annalyn remained subdued, for the Silverlode would not make it easy for them. Strong and unyielding, the current swirled and flowed beneath the rope, distorting the riverbed and hiding the shoal below. Well and so, the crossing might prove difficult, but it was not beyond hope, especially with their guides.

Her stomach in knots, Annalyn watched as her uncle guided his horse into the river. Abrax seemed reticent at first, but soon fell into step beside Haldir, his head bobbing as he walked into deeper and deeper water. The horse walked in a straight line at first, but when Haldir indicated a bend in the shoal, her uncle guided the animal so they wouldn't fall off. And so they ventured further and further still, until finally, to her profound relief, they reached the shallows again, and made it all the way across.

Releasing the breath she had been holding, Annalyn looked to Orophin who stood waiting by the water's edge.

Swallowing against the tightening in her throat, she hesitated a moment, while her horse pranced nervously beneath her frame. "You can do this, Cobalt." We both can.

Three or four steps ahead of her, Orophin proceeded along the rope, his eyes constantly searching the riverbed. Whenever her horse strayed a bit too close to a sharp slope, he would point it out to her. But the shoal was nearly impossible to see, and the language barrier remained.

"The shoal curves to your right!" Haldir translated from the other side.

With a nod of understanding, Annalyn proceeded as instructed, following the bend as best she could. By the time she neared the rope again, the water was well past the horse's knees, and it was getting deeper. Before long, the water reached the stirrups, swallowing her boots, and then her calves. Good gracious me! Icy, needle-like pain shot straight to her bones, then came numbness, from her toes all the way to her knees. But though she wanted nothing more than to hurry across and escape the penetrating cold, Annalyn knew better than to rush.

Careful step by careful step, she and her horse made their way forward. But as they passed the midway point, things suddenly took a turn.

Cobalt started to panic.

Initially, he simply shied away, tossing his head and refusing to go on. "Easy." But the animal could not be soothed. Putting his ears back, he retreated backward, onto a sudden dip in the riverbed. "Cobalt, no!" Using her heels, Annalyn urged him forward, but it was no use.

Helpless, she gripped the reins as the horse rose on his hind legs. From either side of the river, she could hear her uncle and cousin shouting her name, their voices mere echoes against her eardrums. To her horror, the horse staggered back again, and slipped into deeper water. The current now swirled around her torso, the cold so piercing it knocked the air out of her.

The dreadful moment hung there, as if time itself was hindered by a tightly woven sieve. As her awareness revolved around her seizing muscles, her panicked horse, and the deadly water around them, Annalyn realised that Orophin was still there. From the rope, he was trying to calm the animal. His efforts seemed fruitful at first, and Cobalt regained his footing. But as the water pushed against his side, the horse's fear crested anew. Despite all they tried, the animal could not be controlled.

When all seemed lost, Annalyn heard someone yelling her name. It was Orophin. Hand outstretched, he stood ready to yank her off her horse and onto the relative safety of the rope.

"No," she said breathlessly then cried in turn. "No!" I will not leave my horse to drown!

Cobalt rose up again, and neighed in despair. They were done for. The current caused him to shift sideways. Helpless, Annalyn could only hang on to the reins and wait for the water to carry them away. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw movement ahead. For the briefest of instants she glanced up and saw that Haldir was running across the rope to join them.

When the splash sounded, she realised he had jumped into the water, with one hand clamped upon the rope—his only lifeline.

With water up to his chest, he fought the current, taking care not to let go. As the river rushed around him, sweeping his cloak to one side, Haldir made for the horse, and began to speak, softly, evenly, uttering words she could not understand.

Cobalt kicked up a few times, splattering water as his front legs broke the surface. Haldir did not flinch, however, simply kept on speaking, taking one step, then another, while his free hand rose oh so slowly to touch the horse's muzzle.

Whether he was going purely by instinct, or else it was some sort of elvish magic, Annalyn could not say. Whatever it was, it worked. Little by little, a calm came over her horse, and Cobalt started moving again, forward this time. After a few tries, he even managed to climb onto the shoal. Eyes wide, pulse still racing, Annalyn looked to Haldir who remained in the water.

"Are you well?" he asked her.

With chattering teeth, she opened her mouth to speak, but her answer sounded meek to her ears. "Yes. Are you?"

He merely nodded. His eyes fixed onto hers, Haldir reached for the reins. "Allow me?" Either he was unaffected by the cold, or else he was adept at hiding it, but his voice was smooth and even.

Assenting to his request, Annalyn handed over the lead, while her other hand seized the pommel of her saddle.

The river rushing around his chest, Haldir led them toward the bank with slow, bracing steps. Before she knew it, they had reached the shallows, then the bank. Desperate to feel the ground beneath her feet, Annalyn dismounted at once, and stroked the horse's muzzle. Poor beast, she thought, then leaned her head against his.

"Annalyn."

At the sound of her name, she looked to her left and saw that her uncle had gotten down from his horse, and was now closing the distance, his boots crunching pebbles as he hurried past the other sentinels. Once his arms had closed about her shivering shoulders, he drew a long inhalation. "You gave me quite a fright for a moment."

His words mirrored her own thoughts, for she had been frightened as well. Terrified even. Instead of voicing this, however, Annalyn eased away and managed a small smile. "We made it." That is all that matters.

Wanting to thank the Elf who had come to her aid, she turned, but saw that Haldir was already on the rope. Along with Orophin, he kept a careful watch over Aldin and Rúmil, ready to help should the need arise.

It was reassuring to see.


I would like to thank all of you for taking the time to read my story. It means a lot. Also, a huge thank you to my reviewers and all those who have favorited or are following the story.