The Secret of Lasgalen

Chapter 5 Galadriel's Prophecy

Aragorn's shout was enough to snap Randir out of his grief. Grief lay heavy in his heart, for he had known Gandalf the Grey for far longer than any of the Fellowship. But Randir did not show the toll the grief took.

Though he wondered if the old wizard had known his true identity; he doubted it not; the old wizard had always had a way of surprising him.

"Legolas! Randir! Get them all up. We must move to Lórien by nightfall!" Aragorn shouted.

He will make a fine King... 'Tis a shame he should deny what path that was given to him, Randir thought as he helped Pippin and Merry up. Even the half-lings, as inexperienced in death as they were, made efforts to rise.

The whole company started towards Lorien.

Randir sped up to catch up with Aragorn.

"Aragorn," he whispered urgently. "You know that the Fellowship will not reach Lothlórien in time. Night will fall upon us, and we will be overrun by orcs. We need help."

Aragorn swung his eyes around to meet the darkness beneath Randir's hood. "We have no help," he replied.

Randir hesitated for a second. Then he said, "There is a way to reach Lórien in time, melon nin."

Aragorn's eyebrows furrowed. "How?" He asked simply. "Like this," Randir replied, putting his thumb and index finger in his mouth, producing a high-pitched, loud whistle; everyone fell to their knees and covered their ears. Not long after, Randir also began to let out a series of bird calls, each, he explained, with a special purpose. A hawk, falcon, nightingale, cassowary, owl, and even eagle.

Soon, there was a thudding of paws in the distance, creating a storm cloud of dust.

"What are those?" Merry asked, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the powerful sun.

"That, my friend, is our aid," Randir announced; this did not show, but there was a gleam of joy in his eyes.

Soon, the shapes making the storms grew clearer, until they stopped in front of the Fellowship, revealing them to be huge, black horses. Huge, black beasts they were, and they had pitch-black fur, broad shoulders, and a ferocious glare. They were, in a way, Randir mused, a bit like the horses the Ringwraiths ride on. But these horses were not ugly, nor did they have Ringwraith riders upon their backs. Indeed, their fur was quite soft, like silk, but underneath the fur was thick muscle. And they were beautiful, at least, in the eyes of the Hûr-Naur and himself.

All of them had stunning eyes, some sea green, some ocean blue, fire red, emerald green, and hazel.

Everyone, save Randir, gasped softly at the beauty and ferocity of the creatures. Randir climbed on top of the lead animal, which, strangely enough, was no horse but a wolf, with ocean-blue eyes, broad shoulders, and long, canine fangs. Aiglos.

"Well?" Randir prompted, gesturing to them to climb on.

And so they did. Though not without struggles, for some people, perhaps a dwarf or a hobbit, were not, ah, able to reach quite as far as the fully-grown horses' backs.

Despite this, all of the Fellowship were thundering towards Lorien not long after.

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Dusk had not yet fallen by the time the horses skidded to a stop in front of a beautiful forest. Randir slid gracefully of Aiglos, others, not so gracefully, but rather tumbled off their temporary steads. In the case of a certain dwarf, though, one could say he was thrown off.