Song of the Marchwarden - A Deathless Death

Chapter 5 - Duty

As it was foreseen, here you were upon the steed of Éomer on the cusp of Lothlorien under the blood moon. As Éomer shouted for help, you felt yourself transferred into the arms of another. Past the metallic smell of your own blood, you could smell the sweet smell of the grass of lorien. You felt hair brush your face as breath tickled your ear, "Hiril vuin, Our Lady Galadriel foresaw and sent me."

Relief washed over you, and darkness came.

Haldir stood for a brief moment with you limp in his arms. He looked at your fair face, smeared with dirt and blood and wondered if this truly was the Gaeariel from legend. Your clothes he noted, were torn, and bloodied but unmistakably from men. What happened to her? He wondered, as he moved hair from your face.

He wrapped you in a blanket and placed you upon his steed. He effortlessly mounted and made sure you didn't fall as he made his way to the nearest lake. It was such a small lake it had no name, it was more a pond, but he knew this would fit the bill of Galadriel's instructions. It was a 3-hour ride away, but he knew if he pushed the horse, he could make it in 2. Time appeared to be of the essence as he noted your breathing was becoming raspy and irregular.

His thick thighs gripped the stallion as he implored more speed. He couldn't bring you back to Lady Galadriel dead.

You jerked awake as if touched by lightening, you were cold and being held in water. You fought kicking and splashing as a pair of arms dragged you back into the air. You gulped the oxygen around you, as you tried to make your bearings. You were sure you had died. Again. As your heart rate slowed you looked around and saw little in the darkness; however, you realised you were still held aloft by another. You looked up into steely grey eyes. Eyes locked for what could have been a lifetime or a second, and suddenly you felt vulnerable in a way you had never felt.

Haldir cleared his throat, "Lady Gaeariel?"

Your heart skipped a beat, it had been so long since someone said your name. You couldn't find your voice and merely nodded. Suddenly acutely aware of your intimate proximity to the ellon in front of you, you stepped back, but found your legs clearly were not healed enough from the daggers impaled by Balfuç. Your legs bucked under you, and the ellons strong arms caught you.

"My lady, it appears you are not at your full strength yet." You could have sworn you saw a smirk twitch the edges of his mouth. "I am Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlorien. I have been sent by lady Galadriel, who foresaw your return. I am to escort you to Caras Galadhon to meet with her."

You shimmied free from his grip, determined to stand and have some semblance of dignity. You cleared your throat, "How far are we from Caras Galadhon?"

Haldir noticed your barely accented Sindarin, which was unidentifiable unless you had heard Quenya. This supported Lady Galadriel's belief you were indeed Gaeariel, but Haldir needed all the facts before he could believe something so fantastical. Your beauty was how legend described, as were your eyes and hair. He noted you were short for an elf and could see you were not as lithe as many ellons of now. Shocked at his own judgement, he stated there was a change of clothes for you both in the saddle bags, and some healing ointments. He left the pond and brought back cleansing oils and a cloth for you and left your clothes on a stone near the pond.

As if you had just asked the question, he finally answered, "we are two weeks from Caras Galadhon. I think in your condition it could take longer." And promptly turned his back on you. You stood, open mouthed and still until he spoke again; "You are quite safe here, my lady. We shall camp here tonight."

You gingerly removed your wet clothes, or rather what was left of them and started cleaning yourself. You slowly washed the blood and dirt and grime from your hair while you considered the journey ahead. Did he know how familiar you were with Lorien? You knew full well it took nowhere near weeks to get to Caras Galadhon, even if you were gravely injured. Unless, he was taking you the long way, as many elves did with those they did not trust. This was in order to protect the safety of Lothlorien, rendering many people's memories of blindfolded walks through forests useless if they attempted to retrace their steps. They are suspicious of me. Which was fair enough, as far as you were concerned. You scrubbed yourself clean with the oils and cloth, wishing to remove yourself from events preceding.

You pulled on your clothes, a wonderful travelling gown of deep forest green with copper coloured embroidery. By Valar it felt good to have the craftmanship of elven hands on your skin again. A cape of black velvet with lining the colour of amber fire was clasped by an amber brooch. You smiled as underneath the clothes was a brush and decorative hair comb with amber to match the brooch. You were still much too weak to fashion your normal beautiful braids, so you used the decorative comb to hold the front strands of your hair away from your face. As you turned, there was the Marchwarden now in dry fresh clothes, his golden hair caught in the moonlight as his steely blue eyes examined you.

"I have some healing salve, if I may?" He gestured to your legs, and you nodded. He knelt before you, and gently lifted up the skirt of your dress. His hands softly pressed the salve into your wounds as he muttered some words, and deftly wrapped your wounds.

"Do you feel rejuvenated enough to travel tomorrow? I understand you may another water source to fully regain your strength?"

You considered him, and despite his stoic nature, you could see doubt of your nature flicker across his eyes.

"I will attend the waterfall that descends from the Nimrodel into the river Celebrant."

His eyes widened, as his realisation that you knew Lothlorien, and you knew it well to know of that waterfall. Even other wardens didn't know of its existence.

As Haldir rolled out sleeping mats for you both, he knew there would be little sleep for him. He lent his hand to support you as you descended to the ground to sleep. And sleep you did.

Haldir watched as sleep took you almost as soon as your head lay down. He was certainly intrigued by you, if not fully convinced you were who it was said you were. But no matter what he thought, he would do his duty to Lady Galadriel and bring you back.