Forodwaith

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(disclaimer: this picture is not mine)

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(disclaimer: this picture is not mine)


Forodwaith, the Northernmost Waste, Middle-Earth

Galadriel and Elanor's reunion had been a happy one, the two sisters embracing each other as bright exclamations came from the company who saw Elanor's arrival as a fortuitous blessing.

However, now centuries later, as they were still climbing the interminable Forodwaith, the cold had long reached the depth of their bones, and some parts of Elanor believed she would never feel warmth in those places again. Over the centuries, they had vanquished a few of Morgoth's servants, but not enough to cheer up the rest of the company whose exhaustion ran deep, scepticism slowly taking root in their hearts as they followed Galadriel with less and less willingness.

Even Elanor, who would follow Galadriel to the end of this Earth if needed, was starting to consider that they had gone too far and that no wise creature would have come here. However, Galadriel still refused to listen and kept climbing, fighting against the heavy and eternal blizzard.

One morning, the company finally reached an elevation, and one after the other, they fell on the flat ground, exhausted. Elanor, as she helped the members of the company to climb the last few feet to the elevation, kept an eye on Galadriel, who was already observing the horizon and where they should go next. She said nothing yet but knew that the company was too tired to continue. She did not speak right away, anyway, as she knew Galadriel would not listen. She would probably only allow one night of sleep before continuing their endless journey.

Extending a helping hand to Thondir, Galadriel's Second-in-Command, Elanor brought him up and watched him collapsing by her side, breathless and his cheeks red with frosts. She tried to help him to his feet, Galadriel already climbing the next wall of the mountain, but he jerked away from her touch, glaring at the dwindling silhouette of his Commander.

Elanor spoke not, but nervousness tightened her stomach.

The company continued the climb to another peak, and thankfully, Galadriel stopped, watching the sun go down, its light enveloping her form.

"Let's settle for the night," Elanor suggested at the attention of the company, keeping an eye on Galadriel, who had already taken out her map and was reading it.

Without a word, the elves gathered around, sharing lembas. Elanor sat with them, trying to warm her limbs as she accepted a piece of lembas from another she-elf with a kind smile. She bit into it when she noticed Thondir approaching Galadriel, the stance of his shoulders tensed and his fists balled, making her frown. Discreetly, she stepped closer to the two, but far enough that Thondir did not notice her presence as intrusive.

"Commander Galadriel," Elanor heard the elf call, "This company has followed you to the very edge of the world," he declared severely. Galadriel slowly turned to face him, something defiant in her gaze, which usually sufficed to rebuff any complaints, but not this time. "None who ever dared search for this last stronghold has ever found anything. It's been years since the last Orc was sighted. Is it not possible the other commanders are right, and our enemy is no more?"

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