Chapter 37 Decision
'Your mind is troubled…' The pavilion was nearly shrouded in darkness, the last flickers of candlelight wavering before extinguishing completely, giving way to gray shadows that enveloped the face of Lord Elrond. He stood, his gaze lost in the darkening horizon. Nienor approached with soft steps. 'What do you see?' her voice was no more than a whisper in the breath of the wind.
Elrond lowered his eyes to her. 'Imladriss is no longer safe,' he replied. 'Darken's troops are advancing through the Gap of Rohan.'
'What have you learned, Elrond?'
'A short while ago, two sentinels arrived, witnesses to Darken's army passing near the Gap of Rohan. His troops now march northwestward. Imladriss is no longer beyond his reach, and his intentions bode ill. If Darken finds it...'
'We must stop him,' Nienor interjected.
Elrond's gaze softened, tinged with sadness. 'Darken is cunning, and the end of the war draws near. The coming battles will be decisive.'
'Call back your soldiers, summon Glorfindel. If Darken is defeated, the war will end. Deprived of their master, the troops in Gondor and elsewhere will withdraw anyway.'
'Darken has succeeded in dividing us; he counted on that. He knows victory will be easier if our forces are scattered.'
'Darken is mistaken,' Nienor insisted. 'We must surprise him before he reaches us. What choice do we have ?'
Elrond regarded Nienor. Her pleading eyes spoke volumes; fear sparkled within them. What would Darken do if he found her? The mere thought of her suffering tightened his heart. He gently placed his hand on Nienor's cheek, wiping away a tear that glistened on her pale skin. And what of Ellena? She had grown up amidst the distant clamor of wars, touched by the chilling hand of fear. If Darken found her...
Elrond let out a deep sigh as he turned once more to the horizon. 'A decision must be made,' he declared, his voice strained. 'And this responsibility falls to me, whether I desire it or not.'
Nienor smiled. 'Yes, it has been bestowed upon you, and not without reason.'
Elrond lowered his gaze to her, now calm and serene. He nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.
Weeks passed without news of Darken's troops. The flames of war seemed to flicker, but this respite would be short-lived. Toward the end of summer, news arrived: Darken's army had reached the Shire and taken hold. Elrond convened his council, assembled his army, and recalled Glorfindel's troops to Imladriss. The idea had taken root in Elrond's mind: it was better to surprise Darken before he found Imladriss.
