CHAPTER V

BRANCHING PATHS

Night was falling on the Golden Wood, the stars emerging one by one as the last hints of pink faded beyond the tree line.

In a glade near the outskirts of the forest, the company settled in for what would be their final night in the woods of Lothlórien. Sitting with her back to a tree, a silver lamp by her side, Annalyn drew a long breath. She was weary but, having changed into dry clothing, no longer felt the cold. A restful end to a harrowing day.

In all of her travels, the past two days would undoubtedly be among the most memorable. Ambushed by Elves, she thought with amusement. Her eyes seeking and finding their unlikely companions, Annalyn had to own that they had been more than helpful. Especially Haldir. Had it not been for him, she and Cobalt would have undoubtedly been swept away by the river today.

At present, he was crouched by her uncle and cousin, his brow arched in curiosity as he pondered Aldin's longsword. Turning the blade over, he examined the hilt, then showed it to his brothers who were standing close by.

The sight brought a smile to her lips. How quickly things change. Just yesterday, she had feared these Elves. But her fear had soon turned to caution, which in turn had morphed into genuine respect.

Across the glade, Aldin had sheathed his longsword, and was now sitting cross-legged on the ground. His father and the Elves had joined him—though Haldir remained standing. Together they formed a loose circle, their features lit by lanterns rather than a fire.

As was his wont, Aldin soon launched into one of his many tales, pausing only to give Haldir a chance to translate for his brothers. As reserved as they were, the Elves appeared to find delight in his stories. And despite her current weariness, Annalyn did, too. But as she watched and listened, her attention gravitated toward Haldir. She could see no trace of the coldness he had showed them yesterday, most of which had been directed at Aldin who had made the mistake of nearly felling a mallorn.

Though her cousin hadn't known it at the time, it had been a grave error on his part, one that might have cost them dearly. During their ride today, as Haldir had told her of the mallorn-trees, explaining that they grew nowhere else in Middle-earth, Aldin had spurred his horse a little closer so he might listen. Upon learning just how rare and precious they were, her cousin had been genuinely ashamed, so much so that he had approached Haldir earlier in the evening, right after making camp.

"The trees," he had said with genuine contrition. "I had no idea. Forgive me."

From what she could tell, Haldir had found it in himself to forgive him. Not with words, but with a solemn look followed by a single nod.

The evening wore on. Aldin was now telling a story about the Mearas, the wild horses of Rohan that surpassed all others, and bore none but the Kings of the Mark.

As Haldir translated the end of the tale, Annalyn watched him from afar. She would never openly admit it, but he cut quite a figure as he stood by one of those great silver trees, his profile lined in lamplight. His noble features were not as delicate as his brothers', she noted, but there was a strong and stoic beauty to him, this warrior captain of the Galadhrim.

Smiling a private smile, Annalyn heaved a sigh and pivoted her head against the tree trunk. Her gaze trained to the west, her thoughts turned to the next leg of her journey. Somewhere beyond those trees were the Misty Mountains. Whether they would bear fruit, Annalyn did not know.

For the past three years or so, the plants they coveted had become harder and harder to find, forcing them into unfamiliar lands. It was quite disheartening at times, for all of them. Oh they seldom spoke of it, but they knew: something was amiss in Middle-earth. And though none of them could discern the cause, it weighed heavy on their minds.

"You are not with the others." The words were low and discreet, ushering her into the here and now.

Setting her sombre musings aside, Annalyn smiled as Haldir approached a nearby tree and leaned against it. He, too, had changed his clothing after the crossing, his grey tunic slightly different in the way it crossed at the front. As he stared up into the sky, he propped his foot against a protruding root, his bow hanging at his side.

"It is a clear night," was her reply. "I wished to look at the stars." It was not the entire truth, but it was not a lie either. It was peaceful out here, and she was going to enjoy it while she could.

"It is a good night to do so," he agreed then declared, "for dawn will bring rain."

"You believe so?" Intrigued, she looked to the skies, but saw not even a hint of cloud.

For a moment, they watched the heavens in silence, but as a firefly fluttered past them, Annalyn spoke once more. "I wish to thank you for what you did today. Were it not for you… Well…" Heat rose to her cheeks.

Haldir's reply came by way of a nod, delivered as his eyes momentarily locked onto hers. When he looked to the sky once more, Annalyn remained as she was.

She was staring again, wondering.

Elves. They were mysterious to her. They seemed serene and wise, but also guarded, with a lingering air of weariness about them.

They were brave. Of that she was certain.

Night deepened. With the day's events at the fore of her thoughts, Annalyn pondered a question that had been nagging her since they had left the river. "You say you have travelled to my homeland," she began, netting Haldir's attention. "If you are no stranger to the Mark, then you must know how my people value their steeds. Horse Masters we are often called. But the way you managed to soothe Cobalt today… I must say, you have quite the skill. Never have I seen anything like it. What is your secret?"

There was a pause. Haldir appeared to weigh his words. "To connect with a horse, or any other animal, one must first speak their language."

Vague though it was, his answer piqued her interest even more. She would have prodded further if Haldir had not changed the subject. "I received word from one of our patrols this morning," he said. "They reported seeing a small band of Orcs near the base of the mountains, sometime late last night."

Annalyn frowned upon hearing this.

Haldir continued, "It is unclear how many more are out there, but I would advise caution once you leave these woods."

Though it was not what she wished to hear, it came as no surprise to Annalyn. "We have dealt with Orcs before. We know how to avoid them." Her gaze straying across the glade, she pondered her kin for a troubled moment. "Does my uncle know?"

"I relayed the news to him."

Good, she thought, but simply nodded.

Across camp, her uncle had risen, and was now standing near the edge of the forest. A short distance away, Aldin was wrapping himself into his blanket. Another night, another watch, Annalyn thought before excusing herself and gathering her own things.

Once wrapped in her blanket, she drew a sigh and closed her eyes. As her limbs became slack, Annalyn's thoughts began to wander. Her breathing slowed. She fell into dreamless sleep.


The watch was uneventful, the night peaceful and swift. As it gave way to a pale grey morning, Annalyn looked to the skies with a certain amount of amazement. Haldir had spoken truly. It was indeed going to rain today.

Once they had eaten, the company gathered their things and saddled their horses. By the time they were underway, a fine misty rain had begun to fall.

As tiny droplets pearled on her hair and shoulders, Annalyn drew up her hood, and cast a lingering look at the passing scenery. Goodbye, fair Lothlórien. Even in the rain it was beautiful.

Just like the previous day, Haldir and Rúmil were at the front of the line, whilst Orophin brought up the rear. The top portion of their hair was still gathered in a neat braid, but the remaining locks now fell in a damp curtain about their broad shoulders. Not surprisingly, none of them seemed particularly bothered by the rain. They walked with fluid assurance, their gazes fixed not on the immediate trail but on the forest before them.

Gradually, the tallest mallyrn fell away behind them, and were replaced by smaller ones mingled with other species of trees. They were leaving the elven woods.

What had started as a light drizzle became a downpour, the pattering strong and constant as fat rain battered the leaves. Hunched in her saddle, Annalyn spied what looked to be a wide open space ahead.

Thus we return to the real world. As Haldir halted in his tracks, she sighed and pulled on the reins. He was looking to the boughs. His hand rising to the side of his mouth, he gave that low whistle again.

In the span of a few heartbeats, the forest came alive as one, two, three Elves appeared among the branches. With smooth movements, they dropped from their perches, and reported to Haldir. Pointing north and west, they seemed to be relaying news from beyond the realm.

As the Elves talked amongst themselves, Annalyn and Aldin guided their horses nearer to Feran.

"We may be leaving a fair land," the older man said as if to himself, "but the mountains will be a welcome sight as well." Smiling, he looked to Aldin and Annalyn. "Perhaps chance will be with us this time."

"It will be," she replied with conviction.

Glancing ahead, Annalyn saw that Haldir was looking in their direction. With a wave of his arm, he indicated they should follow him. They did, with the newly arrived sentinels doing the same.

Along with the Elves, the company left the forest behind, and emerged into a wide valley carpeted by grass, rocks, and the occasional shrub. To their left, stretching in a northward direction as far as the eye could see, were the Misty Mountains.

Riding forth for a few paces, Annalyn and her kin pondered the landscape for a long moment. Indeed, it was good seeing the mountains again. Alas, the moment was bittersweet.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Annalyn saw the Elves standing on the eaves of the woods, waiting. The time had come to bid them farewell.

Along with her kin, Annalyn dismounted, the soles of her boots splashing on wet grass. Lead in hand, the travellers approached their elven guides.

"So this is where we part ways." Feran clasped Haldir's arm then thanked him for his help in crossing the Silverlode.

Bowing his head, Haldir looked to each of them in turn. "May fortune be upon you," he said, but added, "If I may, I would advise you avoid Nanduhirion. You might know it as the Dimrill Dale." Pointing westward, he indicated a barren area between a series of mountain ridges. "That part of the valley has grown perilous, for Orcs now dwell in the ancient mines of Moria."

"We will heed your words." Feran nodded then said his goodbyes.

Once Aldin and Annalyn had done the same, Haldir bid them farewell in his own tongue. "Novaer," he said.

And so they went.

Once they had mounted their horses, Annalyn threw a lingering gaze over her shoulder, and saw that Haldir was watching them. In spite of the miserable conditions, he held her eyes, lifted his hand in farewell, and gave what might have been a smile.

Smiling wistfully in turn, Annalyn waved one last time. As she did so, some of the Elves bowed their heads then turned away. One by one, they vanished into the forest, until only Haldir and his brothers remained.

"We should pick up the pace." Feran's voice carried over the pattering rain, causing Annalyn to look his way. "We have a long ride ahead."

He was right. With such heavy cloud cover, daylight would fade quickly today.

With a flick of the reins, Annalyn clicked her tongue and urged her horse into a more vigorous walk. Then, as they rounded a cluster of rocks, she threw one last look at the dwindling forest behind them. For a fleeting instant, Annalyn thought she saw movement, but then nothing.

"Goodbye," she whispered.

The Elves had gone.


I would like to say a huge thank you to all my readers and reviewers, as well as those who have favorited or are following the story. Even if I write mostly for myself, your interest has meant the world to me.

Kindest regards,

CygnusRift