Song of the Marchwarden - A Deathless Death

Chapter 20 - The Feast of Souls Departed

 Due to the constant attacks on the borders of Caras Galadhon, The Feast of Fëar Departed was a subdued affair. Instead of all day celebrations, singing and poetry, it was merely a meal at dusk. To the eyes of men, it was still a fine affair, as all elves appeared in their finery and barrels of Darwinion wine would still flow freely. It was customary to wear shades of red, orange and yellows. Some elves from more disadvantaged houses would wear the same red robes they would wear to funerals of the fallen.

You were, however, left a gown of yellow golden splendour from Galadriel. With it, was a circlet of gold, etched with sunbeams. It was truly a masterpiece, and one you often yearned for when Galadriel wore it in your youth. You were touched by this simple act of love. The very fact she remembered, warmed your heart, and brought a smile to your face. It was a cold November evening, and a mantle was left, all white, trimmed with white fur. There was a gold clasp and chain to hold it together. Why Galadriel had left you an outfit more befitting a queen, you were not sure. Perhaps it was due to the fact you had been reincarnated. You were sure there was something Galadriel, your beloved Parantiriel knew, that would become clear later.

The dinner was held in the same garden all feasts were held in. A huge grassy area, margined by hedgerows. Long banquet tables were adorned with white cloths, and fireflies lit the dusk. It was warmer in this garden than outside, nevertheless enough to cool uncovered skin. You were announced to enter, alone in this instance since Haldir was out on patrol, and you were guided to your seat at the top table. You were seated on the left side, that of Galadriel's guests. You were glad to find you were seated close to the edge with Rumil who welcomed you with a nod. "Radiant, as always Gaeariel" he said as kissed your hand.

"Oh stop it Rumil!" you laughed. A laugh that tinkled across the table, where you met eyes with Galadriel.

She entered you mind to speak, "You look more beautiful in that diadem than I imagined. I hope you like it."

"I do, Palantiriel, thank you for allowing me to wear it."

"Consider it a gift of celebration and love, daughter."

You looked at her bewildered, her eyes merely shone with the whisper of a smile and she looked forwards again.

"How many attacks today, Rumil?" you asked.

"Three, with another group coming from the south, just as I left." His face hardened. "2 losses today and 16 injured by poisoned arrows."

You nodded, "We need to reconsider our formations. We need a midline level flet for defence on the border. The high flets and footmen aren't enough. There are too many precious seconds between our storms. We need another layer of offense to overwhelm the uruk."

"I agree, but the woodworkers are rebuilding the last flets destroyed by fire, north of the city." Rumil responded.

"Perhaps support could be found from elven brethren." A deep voice spoke. Your stomach dispatched from its normal position.

You turned to Lord Elrond, who was sitting across and 2 seats down from you.

"For that, I am sure Lorien would be eternally grateful, Elrond. Perhaps counsel with the Lord and Lady would be prudent." You lifted a glass of wine to your lips to prevent anything foul leaving your lips.

"Indeed, that is why I am here." His eyes bored uncomfortably into yours. "and we will discuss whether the Galadhrim will go to Helm's Deep to the aid of the Rohirrim."

The Galadhrim would mean that Haldir would lead the army. You forgot to breathe, your heart stopped, your hands shook. Strong as ever, you managed to gain your composure, "If the Galadhrim leave to the aid of others, there will be no Lorien left to defend. Where will the elves of Caras Galadhon find safety in all this?"