Chapitre 2
She lifted her head and let the wind lash at her face. The rhythmic beat of the horse's hooves echoed in the tranquil surroundings, a everything was calm around her as she had left Darken merely an hour ago. Despite the serenity, she couldn't shake off the fear that clung to her, a fear that seemed to travel with her like a haunting shadow of Darken. Terrified yet resolute, she spurred her horse forward, galloping away with the determination to do what she had to do.
Armed with a month's worth of supplies, her journey was set to take her across the mountains before winter's arrival. Beyond those formidable peaks lay a tangible barrier, a shield against Darken's malevolence. Stone and earth, an unyielding chain, a natural boundary that even Darken's cunning couldn't take down. There would be at least that, and even Darken could do nothing against that nature which could not be burned like trees, nor destroyed like the walls of a fortress. As she urged her horse to greater speed, the logical expectation of relief as she went away from Darken eluded her. A growing fear gnawed at her, fueled by uncertainties. What if Elrond discerned the trap they laid for him? What would he do to her? Would Darken come to her rescue if such a thing came to be ? She could have felt relieved at the thought of dying, yes, it would be her freedom, but death terrified her. She was terrified not of the fate that awaited her should she ever die, but of the fate of the one she loved and left behind, at the mercy of Darken.
The weight of her cloak pressed upon her, as a physical manifestation of the emotional burden she carried. She stopped the horse and gasped for air, she loosened the cloak, seeking solace in the comforting warmth of Calsius' mane. Tears, long suppressed, welled up, and she let them flow freely. Unhindered, she cried into the night, her fingers entwined in Calsius' mane. In this desolate expanse, only the wind bore witness to her anguish.
As she opened her eyes, lying against Calsius on the ground, she looked up and saw the stars above her. Now everything was calm. She felt empty and desiccated, she reached for a bottle attached to the saddle and drank and put it away. The moon hung high, marking midnight. She knew she was wasting time so she mounted Calsius again and get back on the road.
She galloped for a long time, struggling against tiredness and the idea that the one she loved was in danger. She had to let go, otherwise she would fail. She had to empty her heart of these burden and think only of her mission. It was the only thing to do, the only control she had. She had to remain faithful and loyal. Not to Darken, no, her only master would be the love she had for her own. She would be faithful to that and the rest did not matter. No matter if that elf Lord had to die, no matter for the innocent people to pay. All that mattered was the safety of the one she cherished more than anything, more than her own life. She had control over at least one thing, she could at least choose that in her life: to succeed in her mission and bring back the ring. It wasn't complicated. She took a deep breath, a new breath that meant only one thing: she was going to fight. She had taken a deep breath, like the men going to war, charging onto the battlefield, inhaling deeply before wielding their weapons and joining the fray. Succeed in the mission, bring back the ring, and save her own.
She traveled all over Mordor on horseback. She had never gone this far alone. The earth, red and parched, offered no respite, the day's heat and night's chill bearing down on her. Pausing only to allow Calsius to drink and eat. During those rare moments, she felt like she was being watched, as if an invisible shadow was standing right behind her. She thought it was probably ghosts from the past who came to greet her or threaten her.
The great Black Gate of Mordor lay in ruins, its passageway buried deep within the earth's torn crevices—wounds that refused to heal. To traverse, they had to follow the remnants of the standing walls, unable to discern the crevices' bottom due to their profound depth, an unseen force seemingly drawing them in. Calsius halted whenever the passage narrowed, requiring Nienor's reassurance and delicate guidance. After finally crossing, Calsius stood proudly before Nienor. 'Of course... as if I did not have to coax you to move forward...' she smiled, rewarding him with a gentle caress. 'Let's proceed; no need to linger longer than necessary. We have a considerable distance ahead, and night descends. Sleeping here is out of the question— who knows what lies dormant in this desert.'
She stood at a distance from the river, galloping day and night towards Emyn Muil, which lay farther north. Soon, still tracing the river, she would approach the Lorien and Mirkwood. This stretch was what she feared the most; she would find herself, for a few days, between two Elven kingdoms. If they discovered her, Darken's plan would fail. She had to be discreet, moving forward like a shadow, aiming for the Caradhras Passage. Once in those mountains, she would be safe; the most arduous part of the journey would be behind her. She prayed not to encounter anyone on her path, she had to be as invisible as death. She lowered her hood to better conceal her face.
And she continued to sink, again and again, into the immense uninhabited territory of the Emyn Muil, relishing the solitude that nature offered her. She encountered no animals, no birds. It was as if the world had sealed itself around her like a shell. She thought of the ocean bordering the land she had left behind, realizing she would miss it. The sound of waves late at night during her strolls in the bay. She often felt as if she heard a voice from the water speaking to her, singing melodies so beautiful that they couldn't belong to this world. She recalled the scent of salt in her hair after a day of reading on the balcony. Unfortunately, she wouldn't witness the sun sinking into the water again so soon. Instead, it would set behind the mountains, much farther away than it was before.
She smiled ironically as she thought about Darken. No matter where she was Darken was there, in a corner of her head always ready to pop into her thoughts. She tried to imagine Darken and thought about what he'd say to her if he saw her. Surely, he'd express pity and he'd come and held her in his harms. She never discerned whether those rare moments of tenderness were genuine or feigned. Nevertheless, like a dog at its master's table, she contented herself with the inadvertent or deliberate crumbs he dropped, as if to ensure that the dog always remained at her feet.