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To the Aid of Thranduil
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It was a new moon over the skies that still held clear over the Golden Wood. Within the maze of trunks that marched right up to the river bank and under the shades of the leaves an array of large boats waited half beached in the Anduin. Into each stepped several hooded and cloaked figures who promptly hunkered down within. Their comrades on shore gave a good heave together to push the boats into the river, and soon oars were dipping delicately into the water as the fleet glided silently across water that shone like polished onyx stone under the enemy's black skies. On the farther side, a good way upstream, the figures slipped back out of the boats again, and began their trek over the plains of the eastern shore, northward for a while, then veering east toward the great forest.
It was very dark, even for the elves, and they took special care to move as small groups in turns, with their arrows ready and their eyes watching intently the shadows of the tree line as they approached. They strode forward in small groups, covering the wide distance between the river and the forest without resistance. Finally after pushing through a long day's march in this manner they could see within the canopy, and perceived here and there glimpses of flashing eyes and moving shadows.
At last when they drew close enough to the border of the forest, and they began to hear the stirrings within, of footsteps and whispers other than the birds and the beasts. The enemy was near, they understood. Then suddenly whoever had been watching them approach let loose their volley, and a barrage of broad black arrows came flying at them. But the elves were ready, and among each group some knelt and held up their shields in small walls, while others behind them swiftly began returning arrows. The elf archers needed little to find a mark - the flash of an eye here or the silhouette of a head or bow there; every arrow found a target. They sent out a few more rounds of volleys this way, and then they paused for a moment, waiting for a response.
Mirílis went with the team of her friends led by their guard captain, Eredhel. While he watched the shadows beneath the canopy with his comrades, she was observing the movement of the other groups. She looked over to him, and they nodded, and Mirílis sent up her hand in signal to the others. The other teams replied with their signals, and together they all moved forward, and passed through the borders of the forest.
The division into small groups that would spread out had been her idea. Indeed the mission itself had also been her idea. "Let us not wait for the enemy to return," she said to Galadriel and Celeborn. "Let us send a force of arms into the Great Forest, and divide this enemy captain's attention, that he may not assault the elves in the north with all his strength. Such wisdom have I learned from the wizard Mithrandir."
Galadriel smiled. "Truly you seem rather of the Second House of Finwë than the First, I deem," she said. "Not all would hearken to wise words of good counsel. If your own forebears in the House of Feänor would not be pleased, I assure you those of mine would."
Celeborn sat in thought, and he nodded. "This is good counsel," he said. "For Thranduil is akin, and I would assist him as I can. He has good magic, but it is less mighty than what we have available to us here, and also the river fencing his borders is much less wide than ours. I will send my archers and axmen as I can spare them."
"And with them, you and your friends shall go also," said Galadriel, "if you wish to."
The prince of course would be dismayed that she had done so. But Mirílis would not stay idle within the borders of the wood if she could help it, not with the war beyond its borders now building to its end for good or ill. The shadow of her forefathers and their crimes still weighed on her, and she regretted that her father's blinding ambition so fed the designs of Sauron, and led to the creation of the One Ring. For these burdens set on the world by her forefathers she desired to make what little amends she could, and was grateful to have the support of the Lady in her desire to go forth with the elf men to war.
Out on the fields leading from the river to the forest this array of many teams served well, for in this way they could better protect themselves and support each other with a over a wide distance between the shieldmen and the archers. But now the teams drew back closer together, as they went deeper under the shades, so as not to lose sight of each other too easily in the forest. Navigation was difficult through the thickets which grew very dense in several places. All kept their alert peaked as they scanned the understory carefully in the darkness, but the enemies that had hid along the edges of the forest seemed to have retreated to some distance away at least.
They were a ways northward from the enemy tower, by the bend in the tree line of the forest border toward the homes of the Woodmen and the Beornings and Radagast. Here the forest was narrowest, and they could flee eastward or westward into the open more easily as needed. That was the counsel of Celeborn. He had not come, foreseeing the time was not yet ripe to lead the full force of Lorien, deeming that a smaller force to draw the enemy's strength from the north for a short while was the most prudent course at present. They were not to stay long, but engage and retreat as they judged sufficient.
The skies remained black as a night without moon and stars, and shades of the great trees of the forest in even deeper darkness. The elves could still see even if it was more of a struggle, for the subtle sheen of eyes and movement of the shadows could be discerned. But it was a long way before they met any trouble. They caught sight of what they judged were Orcs, but these figures swiftly ducked into the shadows and retreated, likely at perceiving the large numbers of elves that had arrived. But each team of elves kept at least one comrade tasked to continually scan the forest southward, in the event that those who first fired on them had gone for reinforcements.
The small host moved northeast toward the Old Road. They did not have to march very long, and soon enough within sight (and hearing) of a place full of the commotion of armed fighting: faint shouts and clangs of metal far ahead in the distance. But closer still were the reinforcements the enemy had sent to overwhelm the forces of Thranduil, marching in a dash to their comrades. The elves had now caught them up from behind, and they slowed their pace, and the teams drew up in a long jagged line. Then they paused, and a series of soft high whistles cut above the din of the battle, as though the fair little birds of the thin pleasant woods by the river had come to watch the terrible spectacle. Then a great volley of fine and sturdy Lorien arrows flew through the forest, and by cover of tree and rock and bush the elves continued to unleash several rounds of arrow fire.
Their enemies, distracted as they stood fighting with the guards and hunters of King Thranduil, suddenly realized they had an attack coming upon them from behind. Many of the Orc reinforcements heading north were now obliged to turn and fight the force at their rear, and with their keen senses in the dark they charged. They did not devote a very large number to this, however, guessing correctly that these assailants were far fewer in number. But the elves of Lorien put up a stiff fight, and their arrows felled very many Orcs. Some of the farsighted wood elves had found trees with low saddles into which they could leap, so as to assault their enemies with arrows from above. Each team had at least one member who bore a large load of spare arrows, and these they handed to their comrades in the trees, and the bearers then could go forth unburdened into the fray.
The elves of Lorien inflicted great damage in this way, and were able to draw off the attack against Thranduil's realm. Not a few elves had fallen in that battle, chiefly those out of the Forest kingdom to the north, but the enemy's losses were far greater, and Lorien fighters were successfully drawing off the attack and keeping the enemy from overwhelming King Thranduil and his forces. The small host of Lorien kept falling back slowly and carefully, pulling the enemy away from the north as more fell to their elven arrows and blades along the way. Then the enemy advance, having lost very many, began to slow, and far in the north Thranduil was at last repelling the attack against him there with new success. Finally Arbalo, the leader of the Lorien host, called the retreat, and they turned west and passed back out of the forest.