The Night's Wanderer

25. Farewell For Now

At breakfast, the following morning, Morel was lost in thought, going over what happened last night and her Lady's words on the matter. She had not been caught within the chaos involving a certain Troublemaker and the palantir, but she partook in the aftermath.

Morel had been invited by Éowyn to share the Princess's chambers; it would have been indecent for the she-elf to sleep in the same room as all the soldiers where the Fellowship had been given beds. 

So Morel rested in a plush chair by the fire of Éowyn's room. She had been listening to the talk of the Council above, they spoke of matters vast and wide, and after a while she dropped off into sleep.

Waking with a start, shouting consuming in her mind, Morel found her legs working on their own, prompting her to move to the shared sleeping chambers where chaos was erupting.

Bursting in she frightened some of the barely awake soldiers, the voices in her head warning her of the dark powers within the orb and how, if she came in contact with it in any way, it would be the end. It was rare for the Council to be so direct in their meaning, that just meant this was serious.

Quick to dance around those awake Morel pulled a blanket off the bed beside her and threw it over the dark power that made the hairs on her skin rise. The orb stopped rolling, covered up and hidden away, but it did not take away the tension of the room. 

Turning around after that she knelt beside Aragorn as Legolas spoke to him. Clicking her fingers in front of his face she caught his attention.

"Lithal kin ralla. [Cleanse this soul.]" She spoke up, eyes glowing bright as her hand wavered over his head. The magic blew through the air of the room, the hair of the others around moving with the gentle breeze.

As Morel released Aragorn, sure the dark magic that the palantír seeped was gone, she sat back on the ground.

That spell was an energy drainer, and she needed a few moments to compose herself.

Aragorn whispered a heartfelt thank you, setting his hand on her head like a big brother would their younger sister, before walking to see how their two hobbits were. Pippin in particular. He had only had a fraction of what the small hobbit felt, the mental pain and intrusion was enough to wound the mind. 

Legolas spotted the faint tremor in Morel's hand as she sat murmuring herself. Sitting beside her he made sure none of the now awake soldiers bumped into her. Her murmurs were in the elven dialect that was unknown to him, just telling him she spoke to her Lady. 

Once the tremor in her hand ended, her body feeling less shaky and weak, Gandalf came over and whisked the Night Wanderer away without a word. 

He needed to speak to the Night Council, and her their messenger.

Gandalf got what he desired in knowledge as he sat with Morel in the Great Hall. The Night Council answering many questions for the Wizard in riddles and rhymes, giving him a taste of his own medicine, which frustrated the old wanderer.

"You get some sleep; the past few days have been long and you need rest." Gandalf told Morel as he guided her back to Éowyn's chambers.

Morel gave an understanding nod, returning to the room and slipped back into the plush chair by the fire. With only a few glowing flecks in the burning debris the room started to cool but Morel didn't notice it as the voices in her mind allowed her to sleep.

They needed their messenger well and strong, and she would not be so if they distracted her from sleep.

And Morel slept peacefully until the warm rays of the morning sun hit her skin from the window of Éowyn's room. The warming feeling woke her, prompted the grey haired elf to get up and ready for the day.