AN: Hey everyone, I'm so happy I managed to finally get this chapter out! I've been writing it kinda on and off, when I had the time. I'm also on break, so I'm hoping to get another chapter out soon. I'll have very important exams in june or so, so I won't be able to write until I'm done with them. I'm so excited to continue writing this story, because we're finally getting into the spicy stuff! I just wish I had more time. Anyways, enjoy :)
For the timeline, I did what I could to be honest. I maybe blurred the days together for the sake of my story haha and the dates aren't very clear, but it's not too shocking. I just hate farewell scenes.
Thank you for all the follows, faves and reviews! You make my day!
Scylla's revenge: Thank you for your review! I'm glad to see you haven't abandoned this story :) Updating has been really hard this year, but I'm geeting back into the flow of things. Yes, Alysae is finally going to do stuff now and I'm so excited!
ro781727: aha, I'm glad you asked! There is actually a reason, and that will be revealed probably at the end of this story haha, as it's part of the little easter eggs I drop into this story :)
Greenleaf: You made me tear up, and I've been rereading your review quite a lot. Thank you very much, it means a lot :) I hope you enjoy this!
I edited this very quickly and having slept very little. Please do tell me if you happen to catch any errors!
Also, I just remembered but I rewrote the prologue! It's very different to the original, so if you want to check it out, go ahead :) anyways.
. . .Chapter 26- Shadowfax and Fanghorn. . .
.~.
"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."
― Oscar Wilde
.~.
The Sun had just started its ascent, barely peaking out from behind the Earth. Dawn's rose fingers cast a dim light inside the room. Alysae had not slept a wink, too anxious to do anything but lie wide awake, staring at the ceiling. Nasty voices had whispered in her ears, and doubts still plagued her mind. If there ever was a moment to backtrack and change her mind it was now.
But she could not do that.
How could she? When somewhere else, right now, in Arda her friends were in constant danger. When brave soldiers lost their lives in Mirkwood to protect their home against the growing darkness. When her adar Thranduil's shoulders were always set, braced against the weight of the crown. When Legolas was out there and the hobbits who'd never seen war before were willing to risk their lives for Middle-Earth.
No, Alysae would not stay idle and do nothing.
She knew that certain Elves felt as though they were no longer attached to Arda, that their souls longed for Valinor. She knew some were already leaving Middle-earth's shore this very instant, never to return, abandoning those that stayed to their fate.
It was cowardice.
Thranduil may be in want of peace and rest, but he would never abandon his people nor his home to the darkness.
She hoped he would be proud of her for helping as best as she could in those unfortunate times. Then she winced at what his reaction would be to her leaving Lothlorien. When all the war would be over, if she lived still, she would dread returning home. For her father did not often raise his temper at his children, but when it did, it was fierce and terrible.
Shaking her head, she threw the covers off her and got out of bed. For the nth time, she had to pack her belongings. Gandalf had bedrugingly agreed to leave a day later than intended, which was this afternoon. What she was not looking forward to was having to say goodbye to her friends.
That was a bridge she'd have to cross when it came to it.
Sighing, she folded her clothes into neat piles. There was the forest green dress gifted to her by the twins. She traced the patter of stars etched on the fabric with a fond smile. Then, her lovely blue dress, her sweet purple dress. The riding tunic and sturdy trousers she would wear. For now, she changed into the light gown Lady Galadriel had lent her.
There were also her two books: one she had brought from her home, and one given to her by Erestor. It was a story of Men, about a princess and seven dwarves (which Alysae thought quite ridiculous).
But by then, her pack was beginning to grow a bit heavy, and she worried about the long journey ahead, and how much she could afford to bring, with the food and Elrond's leaves were added in as well, and Celebrian's butterfly brooch too. So she left the books on the bedside table. She figured the Elves would keep them safe for her.
She then inspected all her arrows, noting that she only had twelve, and that she hadn't properly taken care of them. Two had bended fletchings, which meant that they were practically unusable, and one had snapped in two in her quiver.
From their sheaths, she withdrew the two long knives her father had gifted her before she left Mirkwood. Her name was engraved on the blade, and the hilts were beautifully carven with leaves and twirling vines.
She had not used them since her sparring with Haldir.
She had not spoken to him since the feast.
Her gaze landed on the thin white scar across her palm, and she felt her heart beat a little faster.
-xxx-
Celeg had been all saddled up and prepared to go by one of the elves who worked in the stable. Still, Alysae checked his bridle and the saddle, just in case anything was amiss. But elves did not usually do things without care or thoughts, and she could find no wrong with Celeg.
He snorted softly as she scratched his neck. It had been such a long while since she had seen him, and she wanted to kick herself for not thinking of visiting him sooner.
"I missed you," she whispered against his cheek.
Celeg bumped his head against hers. "Ow!" she exclaimed, stumbling to the side. She would need quite a lot of treats and scratches to earn his forgiveness back.
Sighing, Alysae opened her satchel. "I brought you an apple," she said, and offered the fruit to the horse. Celeg sniffed it, then deciding it seemed delicious enough, started munching it in her palm. His rough pink tongue licked her hand for more, but she'd only brought the one apple with her.
"I'll get you more," she promised.
For now, they needed to get moving.
Near Celeg, a magnificent stallion paced in the hold of an elf. He was pure as snow, and with a long white mane and tail. Alysae gasped in wonder. He was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. Muscles rippled beneath his soft skin, and his legs were powerful. Brown and light, his eyes met hers, and she held her breath. There was wisdom in those eyes, and power and strength.
This was no ordinary horse.
Was it one of the Mearas? Those famous Rohirric horses that were said to be as strong as ten horses and faster than rivers. Most horses in Rohan descended from the Mearas, but from what Alysae could see, she would guess he was a pure one.
"Ah, I see you have met Shadowfax." Gandalf had arrived behind her, dressed in white robes with a grey cloak and a satched swung over his shoulder.
"Shadowfax? Is he one of the Mearas?"
Gandalf smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You have sharp eyes, my dear! Indeed your sight does not betray you for Shadowfax is a Mearas, and furthermore he is the lord of all horses, and has been my friend on many adventures." He stepped closer to Shadowfax and stroked a hand over the mighty horse's neck.
Alysae's mouth dropped open.
"You still manage to surprise me, Mithrandir! Only you would achieve such a feat. But, I am curious; I thought that the lord of horses belonged in Rohan, to the King of the Riddermark. How did you come by him?"
Gandalf gave her a sharp glance. "That is a very long tale indeed, although you already know parts of it. There is no time for me to tell you in full as of now, and we must not tarry any longer! I shall tell you on the road." He nodded his head at the elf who held Shadowfax, and the elf bowed his head too as the wizard lead Shadowfax away.
Alysae took hold of Celeg's reins and walked alongside him as they followed Gandalf. She was unsure as to the path they were going to take, not even knowing where the wizard was heading to.
She said as much to him. "Mithrandir," she called to him, her eyes on the floor on the lookout for any twisting roots. It would do her no good if she sprained her ankle because she hadn't been paying attention. "I find myself wondering, where on Arda are we going to?"
The wizard snorted. "Only now you ask me? I thought it would be obvious, we are going where trouble is, and where I am most needed." They were weaving through the golden trees, and the sound of running water was going stronger. Overhead on their left, a bird was singing out a joyous song.
"I'm afraid to announce to you that trouble already follows wherever you go, Mithrandir," said Alysae, straining forward. Her voice turned bitter. "And I can fathom a hundred different places you would be needed, starting from my father's Halls, and ending with the Fellowship."
Mithrandir turned around as he walked, a furrow in his brow. "I cannot solve every single wrong in this world, Alysae," he reprimanded. "And I cannot be in many places at once, not matter how many wish it were so!"
Immediately, Alysae felt mortified. "Forgive me, Mithrandir. My father and brother weight heavily on my mind, and I fear for them and miss them terribly." Besides her, Celeg snorted in her hair.
"I do not take it to heart," replied the Wizard. "It is not an easy thing to be away from those we love." He suddenly turned right. "Ah! The Lord and Lady have come to see us off!"
As Alysae followed him, she could indeed tell that there was a clearing ahead, the very same one they had parted from the Fellowship. The Lord and Lady were waiting for them, standing, both tall and beautiful.
There were not as many elves present as there had been when the Fellowship had left, but that came as no surprise to Alysae. Mithrandir and her were leaving swiftly and quietly, and few were aware of it.
She could see her friends standing at the sides; Caladwen standing still and silent, her head bowed, Taurya, wringing her hands, Belegieth with a frown marring her face, and Laereth's mouth was set in a firm line.
Anxiety suddenly gripped her heart, for she now dreaded speaking to her dear friends. How she loathed having to part from them! But worse was the words that she wanted to say but did not know how.
Surprisingly, there was another familiar face although she had not spoken to him in a long time. Luinon, the elf she had met at the feast and who enjoyed Quenya like she did. She had never thought he would come.
Greater was her shock still when she glimpsed the Marchwarden's stony face among the few elves. And she cursed herself for her palm suddenly grew moist and her breath quickened. A flush warmed her face and she struggled to remain unaffected.
She had not seen him at all since the heated words they had exchanged, and Alysae felt both shame and anger at seeing him again. Hadn't he told her how annoying and useless she was? That he had only spoken to her at Elrohir and Elladan's bidding? Then by Elbereth, why had he come if not to rub more salt on her wounds?
Mithrandir stopped before the lord and lady and bowed his head. They smiled gently at him, and their eyes filled with wisdom caught Alysae's own as she went to come stand near Mithrandir. Celeg and Shadowfax had been left at the edge of the clearing, where they would wait.
"Mithrandir," said Celeborn, "you must make all haste for things are now set in motions that we cannot undo, and the future of Middle-earth rests heavily in the hands of mortals who shall need your guidance. May the Valar be with you."
Galadriel smiled. "Indeed, and you shall bring them hope too. Here I name you Gandalf the White, friend of mortals and guardian of Arda. Take your new staff for you shall need it before the end!" And from the folds of her white dress she produced a long wooden stick that was as snowy as Gandalf's hair.
The wizard's face brightened. "It gladdens my heart to be able to hold a staff once more," he said, drawing the staff to him.
"And you, Alysae," said Celeborn, sadness in his eyes, "you have chosen to walk a most difficult, yet noble, road. Thranduil, of course, will be notified. You are always welcome to read from my library when you come back."
Galadriel stepped forward. "The path you are on is one filled with much hardship, and yet it will bring you knowledge as well, for you shall learn many things. I give you this blade, Ivren-sigil, the crystal dagger." The lady held out a small blade, as long as her hand and gleaming in the light. It was sheathed, but there were a great many details carved in it. When Alysae drew it, she gasped softly, for the blade was pale and shining like mithril.
"It belonged to the Elvenqueen," said Galadriel, her eyes trained on the blade as though seeing something different and quite far away.
Alysae's eyes widened. "To my father's wife? Legolas' mother who died?" She had learned at a very young age that the Elvenqueen was not a subject to be talked about. No one ever dared to utter her name; so much that Alysae had never learned what her name was. It was just the Elvenqueen or Bereneth. Of course, she had desperately wanted to know more about the mysterious queen at first, but when she realised how much pain it caused her brother, and still caused her father, she had dropped the subject.
To be able to hold an object that had once belonged to her father's wife and Legolas' mother, was an awe-inspiring moment. She imagined the Elvenqueen holding it like she was and stood up straighter.
"I shall cherish it always," she said firmly, curling her fingers over the cool handle. It fit perfectly inside of her boot.
Galadriel placed her soft hand on Alysae's cheek. "Dear child, you must not lose hope, and you shall need to trust in yourself. In the end all shall be revealed." She smiled and looked to her right, where Alysae's friends were. "Now go, tithen aranel, and say your goodbyes."
Alysae swallowed, her throat tight. She walked towards her friends, her eyes on the ground. When she lifted them up, they filled with tears and she could utter no words.
"Oh, Alysae," murmured Caladwen, wrapping her arms around the girl. The elleth was all soft and gentle, comforting. Taurya was unusually quiet and had her hand on Alysae's shoulder. Laereth rubbed at the girl's back, and Belegieth ran a hand over her hair.
Alysae felt so warm, so loved. If only she could stay that way for eternity.
She withdrew and wiped her face with her sleeve. "Thank you for being such incredible friends," she managed. Her hand went to the bracelet Laereth had gifted her and she twisted it. She tried a wobbly smile.
Laereth sniffled. "I will dearly miss you so! You have better come back to visit us quick, or I shall come and find you myself." She took Alysae in her arms again.
"Rûmil has better treat you well," whispered Alysae. "Or I shall find a Balrog and let it loose on him!" They chuckled at that, with tears in their eyes. "You were the very friend I made here, and I thank you for everything you have done."
"Caladwen, you were a most loving friend," she continued, moving the hug the elleth. "I shall miss you."
"So will I," murmured Caladwen.
Alysae moved to Taurya. "And you, you are one of the funniest, prankster elf I have ever met! Never lose your fire. I will be sad to leave you." They embraced silently, for Taurya could not say anything and Alysae understood.
"Belegieth," said Alysae, turning to the warrior elleth, "I have dearly loved being your friend, and my heart can rest happily knowing that you will always be defending Lothlorien fiercely. Please be careful though!"
Belegieth smiled and ruffled her hair. "You are telling me to be careful?" she exclaimed. "Surely you jest. You are the one who needs to be careful, and if I find out you've been injured, I will find you and throttle you!" Though her words were harsh, Belegieth still smiled.
Alysae smiled through her tears at her friends. She would miss them terribly, but she was happy she had come to know them. She would miss fair Lothlorien too.
Then, she looked right and her eyes caught with a pair of stony ones. She gulped. It was clear he wanted to talk with the way he stared at her insistently.
Wearily, she made her way to him, after embracing her friends one last time. As she passed by, she nodded her head at Luinon who bowed in return. When she reached the Marchwarden, he took hold of her elbow and drew her a bit away from the others, at the edge of the clearing. Alysae stared at him in confusion.
"You are leaving," he stated.
"So I am," she replied. Sparing a quick glance back, she could see Gandalf in conversation with Galadriel.
"I hope you know what you are doing," Haldir said, frowning. "It's not going to be easy, and it's not a game. You should not be heading into danger."
Alysae ground her teeth. "I know it's not a game! I'm simply sick of staying put and doing nothing."
The Marchwarden breathed out through his nose. "Good, so when I see the lady's grandsons, I shall tell them you left because you were bored. Are you even conscious of the danger?" He shook his head. "Of the bloodthirsty Orcs that roam the lands, violent Men, diseased towns. War is coming, Alysae, and you should have no part in it."
Alysae counted to ten silently in her head. There was no need to be angry. She shouldn't get mad. In fact, she was rather tired of arguing with the Marchwarden. "Look," she told him. "I'm sick of fighting with you. I do not know why you dislike me so much, or what I have done to make you hate me. But I am not a child anymore, and I have made my decision. And if Elrohir and Elladan get angry, then you can tell that I am grown up now. I know what I'm doing."
Haldir furrowed his brows. "I don't hate you," he rumbled. "I just wanted to discourage certain... things."
"Discourage what?"
He shook his head.
Determined to mend things between them, Alysae continued, "Haldir, I believe I owe you an apology. For my behaviour."
"No," he sighed, "the apology is mine to make. I should not have treated you this way. It was not fitting of a soldier to a princess."
Her eyes widened. "You are sorry?"
"It seems that it's what I've just said."
"It caught me by surprise. Haldir..."
Haldir's eyes narrowed. "No. Don't." He crossed his arms over his chest and turned away.
"Don't what?"
"Do not look at me this way. It shall never happen."
Alysae swallowed uneasily. "What shall never happen? What do you mean Haldir?"
"I know of your little infatuation with me, and I have tried my best to discourage it," Haldir grudgingly said.
Alysae felt her heart drop. "I- I am not infatuated with you!"
"Then I am glad," said Haldir. "You are a child and there is no time for silly puppy love in war."
"I told you I did not fancy you!" Alysae managed through tight lips. Inside, she felt her stomach clench. "You seem to get the strangest ideas ever," she continued, heart combusting. "I need to leave now. Goodbye, Haldir."
She did not wait for him to say goodbye. She simply turned and strode away, back to the horses. Tears burned her throat, but they were not the same kind as the one she had shed when she had embraced her friends.
Why am I feeling this way? she thought. Why did it have to hurt?
When she reached Celeg, he seemed to know something was wrong for he rubbed his head against her chest.
And then Mithrandir arrived and he took hold of Shadowfax and mounted him. "We are leaving now," he said. So Alysae breathed in and out quickly, dried her tears and got on Celeg's back and followed Gandalf as he led them away from the clearing and towards the river, for she could hear the sound of water become clearer.
Before they left the clearing, Alysae turned in her seat. The remaining elves were staring and she nodded at them. That was it. They were leaving.
Soon, they reached the great river that branched into the Anduin further south.
"Come along, Alysae," said Gandalf, nudging Shadowfax foreword. "We are going to cross the river now."
Alysae glanced at him dubiously. "We're going to make the horses swim?"
"Yes, it is but a short swim and there isn't much current where we shall cross. The Galadhrim have built no bridges and it would take too much time to follow the river till a crossing." Shadowfax reached the edge of the river and his shiny hooves splashed in the shallow water.
"Very well," muttered Alysae and brought Celeg forward. Every summer, she and her brothers would take their horses and go swimming in the few untouched pools in the Greenwood, although it was much more fun in Imladris. It was always an exhilarating moment for Celeg loved the water, and the feeling of his powerful legs propelling them forward never failed to make her laugh.
But now it was just past winter, and the river looked dark and deep.
Ahead, Gandalf had his feet just brushing the edge of the water, his staff held high above him. Celeg began to advance in the shallow water and Alysae tightened her grip on the reins. She quickly removed the leather satchel bound to the saddle and held it against her chest.
Then, her feet dipped in the water and Celeg snorted, spraying icy droplets in her face. She gasped as her calves felt like they were being plunged in liquid ice. Elbereth, she was not looking forward to getting her entire legs wet.
With a nicker, Celeg suddenly thrust into the water and began to swim with powerful strokes. Alysae let out a squeak and held her bag over her head. Her legs felt so numb and she shivered violently above the rolling of Celeg's muscles.
They were halfway through the river by now, and Gandalf was near the shore. Alysae glanced down at Celeg to see his head bobbing above the water, his cream coloured mane floating in the slight wind. His nostrils were large and open, and deep rumbles came from his chest.
Then suddenly, Caleg's hooves hit the bottom and he was once again walking, eventually climbing up the shore. Alysae breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as she was out of the water once more.
Mithrandir looked back at her, his white robes dripping. "All good?"
Alysae nodded.
"Then we shall be off." He sighed and looked back at the Golden Woods. "Farewell Galdhrim, and I hope to visit these gentle woods once more. Though, changed they will be, for no more will it be as it is any longer."
Alysae frowned but shook her head. Wizards made rarely sense, and she shouldn't waste time trying to understand it. Quickly, she reattached her satchel to her saddle, still shivering.
Celeg began to walk, following Shadowfax, but Alysae glanced behind her one last time. Lothlorien glowed like a golden sunset, fading away. "Farewell fair Lorien," she muttered.
"Let us ride!" shouted Gandalf. He brought Shadowfax into a gallop, and Alysae didn't even have to urge Celeg, for he followed the Mearas already.
-xxx-
They rode for hours, switching from gallop to trot so that Celeg would not tire (Shadowfax could most likely go on for days without rest, Alysae imagined).
For leagues around them, as far as Alysae could see, there was nothing. The land was barren, with no sight of tree or rock, just plains stretching ahead.
Her back ached, and her legs ached, and everything hurt. She had a stitch in her left side, and her mouth was unbearably dry. The cold wind whipped at her cheeks and sweat stuck her hair to her face.
Thankfully, the sun had begun to set on their right, and the sky was turning all kinds of fiery reds and soft pinks.
Gandalf started slowing down. "We'll stop for the night!" he shouted against the wind.
Alysae nodded, a relieved sigh escaping her. Slowly, they brought the horses to a walk, letting them cool down for a couple of minutes.
Suddenly, Alysae felt extremely exhausted and she had difficulty breathing. She needed to rest after the day's intense riding. "Mithrandir," she panted, asking the question she'd been burning to ask. "Where are we going?"
The wizard turned towards her. His hair was as disheveled as one would expected theirs to be had they been riding all afternoon. Fatigue dropped at his eyes. He brought Shadowfax to a stop and Alysae followed. "We," he said, dropping to his feet, "are going to Fanghorn, my dear."
Alysae clutched at her saddle. "Fanghorn?" she cried. "To that dreadful place-!" She stumbled out of her saddle, her knees suddenly weak, and grabbed hold of Celeg. "Whyever?"
Gandalf levelled her with a piercing look. "You know very well what you agreed to when you left Lothlorien, Alysae," he reminded. "Fanghorn is but a stop on the road of tasks I have yet to acomplish. I have a feeling that we must go there with all haste, and by the will of the Valar so shall we."
Alysae shifted uneasily. "You are right, Mithrandir," she sighed. "But I am loathe to go there, after all the stories I've heard about it. Legolas would scare me at bedtime with tales of the horrible creatures that live there. Though he said, it wasn't always like that."
"Indeed," muttered Gandalf. "Long ago, it was a beautiful land filled with gentle creatures and shepherds of the forest. Now, like all things touched by Sauron's malice, it has become dark, and Men tell such tales about it that no one dares to enter these woods, not even elves!"
Alysae shivered. She hoped that Fanghorn wasn't like the darkest parts of Mirkwood, where spiders dwelled and poison filled the air.
They did not make a fire. Without any cover, it was too dangerous. They could attract unwanted attentions. Instead, after dinner, Alysae wrapped herself in the blanket that the Lothlorien elves had given her. It was light but surprisingly warm, although perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised anymore, after all, Elves had their own sort of magic.
Mithrandir took the first watch, and then she would take the next. Although her muscles ached, and the ground was hard, she fell into a deep sleep in just a few breaths.
-xxx-
In her dream all is smoke and darkness. The ground and the trees look blurry, as though she is seeing them through a foggy window. Water rushes somewhere near, deafening and raging. Shouts come from her left.
Black and oily is the river there, frothing and foaming against the sharp rocks. Three boats struggle against the current with their occupants shouting and moving about. They are paddling furiously to get away from the rapids.
Then, an arrow whistles past and towards the boats. Thud. Thud.
Grunts and roars drift down the river, and on the other side, Alysae can just make out dark shapes. Orcs.
She tries to move but she's rooted in place. Her mouth opens silently.
The boats have finally managed to get back from the rapids and they hasten to the shore. They exit the boat, black arrows still raining down on them. A familiar shout reached Alysae's ears. With a growing horror, she counts the people: eight. It's the Fellowship! It's Legolas and Aragorn! And Merry and Pippin, and Sam and Frodo! Boromir, Gimli!
She strains herself forward, wills her legs to move, but it feels like trying to move in quicksand. She's stuck. They're going to get shot at! Legolas! she cries in her mind.
Just then, a terrible screech echoes in the air. Fear seizes her heart. Suddenly she can see everything clearly.
A dark shape, like a cloud and yet not a cloud, comes swiftly out of the blackness, and speeds towards the Company, blotting out the only light of the moon as it approaches. Soon it appears as a great winged creature, blacker than the pits in the night.
And then, standing tall and fair, with stars crowning his hair, Legolas raises his bow in the distance.
Alysae yells, Legolas!
"Legolas!" She shot up, panting.
Gandalf was shaking her. "Come along, Alysae, we must get moving now." The Sun was just peaking out from behind the plains, casting orange and pink lights in the sky.
Alysae stared in confusion. "But it's morning now," she croaked out. "You didn't wake me up."
"You needed the rest far more than I did," said the Wizard, standing up to move towards the horses. From his satchel, he produced a piece of lembas bread, which he gave her. Still shaking with what she had seen, Alysae nibbled on the bread and slowly stood up.
It was just a dream, she told herself. Just a silly dream she'd made up based on her fears. Nothing more.
Her hair was a tangled, sweaty mess but she did her best to plait it back. It was growing long now, for she hadn't cut it since she left to Rivendell, and that was months ago. Now, it was reaching the end of her back and was a real pain. She should get it trimmed soon.
They packed their belongings quickly and mounted the horses. Soon, they were off, starting the day on a light gallop.
-xxx-
The days passed like this, a blur of sweat and exhaustion and the cold wind in her hair. On the fourth day, they could just make out a dark thing stretching out far in front of them. A black forest. Fanghorn.
When they slowed down for a rest, Gandalf turned to her. "Fanghorn," he said. "We shall reach it tomorrow in the afternoon. There is a little river to cross, but it is not very deep, nor very fast. Limlight it is called, and it is near the edge of the forest. We are nearing Rohan, land of the horse-lords."
Alysae nodded, panting. The breaks they took felt like a necessity, where she could regain her breath for a couple of minutes. Her eyes dropped with fatigue.
Still they moved on.
Until they finally reached the edge of the forest.
They sat on their horses, still as stones, taking the sight in front of them in. It was early afternoon and the Sun shone mightily yet the forest seemed dark. Mossy trees grew crookedly with knotted branches like claws. Their bark was grey and dark and linchen dripped down like spiderwebs.
There was no sound coming from it. No scurry, no birds singing. All was still.
Alysae gulped and turned towards Gandalf. He was dismouting from Shadowfax so she followed suit.
"We shall leave the horses here," he told her, "for they shall not be able to follow in Fanghorn."
"No," breathed Alysae. She had to leave Celeg behind? He blinked at her with large sad eyes.
"Do not fret, Alysae, for you shall see Celeg again. He will stay with Shadowfax till I call for him and they will be quite safe."
"Very well," she muttered. As she removed his bit, she found that she was blinking back tears and her vision was blurry. Throughout all her journey until now, he had always been with her, a faithful companion. She had received Celeg as a present for her 7th birthday. Now, about ten years later, she had to say goodbye.
She buried her face in his neck. "Farewell, my friend," she muttered, her throat tight. Celeg neighed, bumping his head into her. She took the saddle off and stepped away.
Just then, Shadowfax trotted away, and Celeg began to walk away. With one last look behind him, he galloped after Shadowfax. Soon, they were but distant moving shapes.
Alysae didn't know how long she had been standing there, tears on her cheeks, with Celeg's saddle and bit in her arms. There was a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Come along, it is not the end yet," said Gandalf.
Alysae sniffled and followed him. She carefully deposited the saddle and reins at the base of a tree. "I shall come back for you," she muttered. Then, she straightened up and wiped her face. "Let us go," she told Mithrandir.
And so they stepped into the forest.
It felt like they were being watched. The forest was holding its breath, waiting for them to lower their guard. More than once, Alysae tripped on roots that she could have sworn weren't there a moment before.
"Quickly now," called Gandalf ahead of her. "I can hear the river Limlight. From there, we shall make our way down till the Ondlò, also called the Entwash."
"The Ents!" cried Alysae, straining forward. "Do you think they still exist?"
"That is what we are about to find out, my dear."
They crossed the little river Limlight, and continued South. By the end of the afternoon, they had reached the Entwash and were starting to make their way down, following it eastwards. Alysae was greatly tired, but Gandalf did not want to rest yet, saying that they had a task to acomplish.
Presently, Alysae was cursing all the Wizards on Arda. It was nightfall and the forest grew to be even darker if that was possible. A cold breeze slithered through the trees and through her clothes. She would turn around every few seconds to check if nothing had creeped behind her back.
Her heart was beating furiously, her legs trembled and she felt weak. They had been walking for hours and she just wanted to sleep.
Gandalf walked ahead of her, soflty glowing with light. Every now and then, she would rub her eyes. It was only a bit later, that she realised she was walking all alone.
Suddenly, muffled shouts and cries of pain came from ahead and Mithrandir was long gone. Her blood ran cold. Orcs? She darted forward with a burst of energy.
As she neared closer, Alysae heard familiar voices she thought she would not hear again.
"Please, Gandalf! Tell him we're not orcs!"
The blinding light emaning from Mithrandir's white cloak made it difficult to see straight ahead; and so she could only catch a glimpse of a great, tall shadow. It seemed to have two arms and legs and was the same colour as the trees around. Two wriggling things were in its ragged hands.
Alysae's eyes widened. "Merry? Pippin?"
-xxx-
Dun, dun, dun. :) Let me know what you think
aranel- princesse
tithen- little