𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖆

Chapter Twenty: The Mending Of The Fellowship

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Finally, I wormed out of Legolas' arms, and ignoring the pain, I stumbled towards the building, where the others eagerly descended a staircase so clear it appeared almost crystalline. I felt the pain of my injuries, from Orthanc and the ravine, slip away, as the faces of my friends appeared through the large archway. The first to reach me was Pippin, followed by his other hobbit companions. They each wrapped me in a hug, perceiving my injuries and straining to be gentle. After me, the hobbits trampled poor Legolas with hugs, nearly knocking him off his feet. Next, came Gimli, who stopped in front of me, and offered a beaming smile.

Behind him followed Boromir, who paused for a moment. Hesitated. Then, pulled me into a quick embrace. A jolt of pain shot through my body, but I ignored it.

"I'm glad to see the two of you safe," he said quickly, before he too moved on to Legolas.

Then, came the face I was most anxious to see; Aragorn. He approached slowly, his eyes still riddled with disbelief.

"I'm not in the greatest shape... But I'm here," I cracked a weak smile.

"That's all I could ask," he pulled me into a warm embrace, longer and closer than any of its predecessors.

I smiled warmly at him as we pulled apart, before peering past his shoulder, and then back at him.

"Where is Gandalf?"

His face fell.

✶

Dead. The word echoed through my hollow mind. Dead. Gandalf, my friend of so many years. Dead. I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't. It wasn't true. Any moment, his smiling blue eyes and bushy grey beard would emerge from the building. But they didn't. And looking into Aragorn's eyes, I knew. I knew it was true. My closest friend, my most trusted ally, a man who was like my father, was dead. I collapsed into Aragorn's chest, feeling my legs give out. But no tears fell.

My face instead resembled that of a frightened doe, slightly slack-jawed and wide-eyed, as I felt Aragorn's hand cup the back of my head, pulling me into him.

"The poor lass," I heard Gimli say from behind me.

A grim silence introduced itself into the wood, and it seemed that even the animals had gone quiet, and the wind had ceased it's blowing. From where I stood, the entire world had stopped.

"Altàriel," Legolas spoke airily, bowing deeply to someone behind me.

I pulled away from Aragorn, and met the gaze of a breath-taking elven-woman. Her long blonde hair shone like the golden leaves, and hung past her waist. She wore a slim fitted dress of the brightest white whose sleeves and skirt billowed at the base. Her nose was slim and her eyes were slanted, narrowed in my direction. Without knowing why, I instantly recognized this elven-woman as the owner of the voice I'd encountered when we'd entered the wood.

Behind her, Haldir and a few other ornately-clad elves trailed with poise. Even Gimli dared not sour in the presence of such nobility. I sunk into a deep bow.

I jolted when I felt two gentle hands on either of my arms, urging me to stand. I did, only to again meet the gaze of the elven-woman, whom I knew to be Lady Galadriel. She watched me with affectionate eyes, as though she looked down at her own daughter.

"You needn't bow to an age-old friend, my dear Elena," she said, and a ripple of disbelief spread through the Fellowship, who gathered in a bunch behind me.

I didn't answer, my mind still centred on the cavity in my chest. The agonizingly apparent lack of members in the Fellowship.

"Why is your face set in sorrow?" she asked softly.