(PTII)Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 4)

Chapter 10: The Stars Shine Brighter

Lothlorien was a magical land, especially at night. Caledorn had always thought this, even after visiting the mysterious forest many times. And tonight was no different. The moon lit the trees in a pale light, illuminating the path that the company was now taking. Even the dwarves had silenced their grumbling as they gazed upon the mystical platforms that were interspersed among the trees.

"In all my days, I never thought I'd see somethin' as marvelous as this," One of them said breathlessly.

"Durin's beard, look at the craftsmanship!" Another added.

Caledorn turned to his side to see Taliel looking up at the elven city, though her expression was one of sorrow rather than one of awe. He remembered that she had said she was from Lothlorien, though it wasn't until now that he realized that the return was not a joyful one for her.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly. He rarely expressed concern, and was loathe to betray his emotions ever, but it seemed as if she needed someone to care at that particular moment, and he was the only one that would have noticed her feelings among the company.

She looked surprised that he had asked, though she smiled gratefully. "Yes... This place just brings back memories that I have fought to forget for many years now."

Caledorn nodded slightly. "Memories of family?"

Taliel turned away from him. "Yes. I was raised here, you know."

"I gathered as much. I imagine that it must have been quite a place to grow up."

Taliel smiled wistfully at his words. "It was. Though as a young elleth I was more preoccupied with chasing squirrels and butterflies than enjoying the beauty of Caras Galadhon."

Caledorn's mouth tugged up into a wry smile as he pictured a young Taliel causing mischief in the city. "I don't suppose that you pretended to be a knight as well..."

"I did!" Taliel exclaimed. "I had a stick that I pretended was a sword. I named it Effíriëolwen."

At that Caledorn made a sound that he had seldom made; He laughed. It was a clear, strong laugh that was strangely joyful for such a solemn elf. It sounded as if it had been held in for millennia, but had been waiting for the moment to make itself heard. "Death stick? Well you certainly weren't creative with the name..."

Taliel joined in laughing, shoving Caledorn playfully. "I was young! Give an innocent young lass a break!"

"Well I had a sword named Miriel when I was young. It wasn't sharp but it looked real enough. I used to terrorize all of the elves traveling past my house with it. One time, I-"

He suddenly stopped speaking when he saw a procession making its way toward the company. Armed elven warriors brought up the front, followed by none other than the Lady of the Wood herself, Galadriel. To her right was Celeborn, clad in silver robes and wearing a circlet of sapphire. To her left stood Gerithor, though instead of his worn traveling garb he wore a midnight blue tunic upon which was embroidered the seven starred Tree of Numenor. He appeared kingly to Caledorn, though of a line long lost to the ages. He also seemed older, as if he had seen things that had aged his heart and soul.

"Greetings, warriors of the Company of Gerithor Lastborn," Galadriel said, her voice powerful. "Welcome to my forest. Though many of you would have chosen other paths, it is not mere coincidence that has brought you hence. The tide of war is now crashing upon the shores of Erebor, and Dale. Surely, it even touches the realm of Mirkwood. But do not be troubled. For there is hope..."

Her voice slowly faded from Caledorn's mind, and it was replaced by a voice that spoke directly to him.

"Caledorn Ingwalen, it is good that you are here. Without your guidance this army would have surely fallen by now." When Caledorn did not respond, the Lady's voice continued. "You are troubled. I can feel that this journey has been a heavy weight upon you, for you have seen and experienced much. Long have you been Middle Earth's defender, and the importance of your quest has even rivaled that of the Istari. But you are no Maiar, and you have reached the point of no return. Your soul is weary. Take heart, Caledorn, for your quest is nearly finished. You have almost completed what you first set out to do."