The Northern Mountains

~Twenty~

twenty

They were a sight to see.

Two elegant women, as different as night and day, strolling through the hallways of Lord Elrond's castle. One dressed all in blacks and deep reds that accentuated her dangerous beauty and the other in the lightest blues and whites that illuminated her graceful magnificence.

Again, they had so many differences that could oppose the two so greatly, but the women took to each other. The Mistress of Death would say 'Thick as Thieves,' and the Lady of Light, 'Bids of a Feather.'

But there was one night, that the redhead didn't know if she should treasure or be wary of, that she would never forget.

:3

"I've never met another like you, Galadriel, but I feel like I have known you in another life."

All humour left the she elf's face, her airy laugh halting immediately and leaving the woman's throaty chuckle alone to fall from the balcony. She too, then slowly fell silent as the redhead frowned lightly at her friend.

"What is wrong?"

Galadriel's usual put together stature faded slightly as she barely chewed on her bottom lip, looking out at the underlying city below them, "I understand as you have told me, Hartlyn, that you don't remember a second life before your one here? That the deity you lay claim over, declares this to be true, only your memories have been lost?"

The Mistress eyed the she elf, before sighing and following her gaze out towards Rivendell. Her voice was quiet with a tone of confusion, "Rarely, so very rarely, I will have faint flickers in my dreams, dear friend, of a young red haired, green eyed girl in black robes with red and gold accents and a younger pale blonde girl with light grey eyes wearing black robes with dark blue and silver accents."

Harltyn turned her gaze to Galadriel who was already watching her with a blank face, "Are you telling me, what I think you are telling me?"

The she elf tilted her head slightly, a small length of her pin straight hair falling over her shoulder, in a way that felt all too familiar to the Mistress. Just too familiar.

But the redhead shook her head as if to rid herself of her thoughts and murmured, "I must be insane."

And in a whisper, that Hartlyn barely heard, "You're just as sane as I am..."

:3

The Company were fleeing, practically falling down, the mountain as the rabid howls of wargs and the vicious roars of the orcs riding them, echoed through the trees Bilbo, the dwarves and Gandalf, Jon and the man he was carrying, raced through.

In minutes, the first warg lunged forward, it's maw inches from the poor hobbit until he ducked down beneath a large boulder. The halfling quickly, and shakily drew his sword and held it out in front of him. The abomination leapt over it, turned midair and lunged again.  Bilbo couldn't help but close his eyes until the shocked whine made them open to see an impaled warg twitching...and dead.

More followed the monstrous creature, but were shortly slaughtered by the dwarves and the slightly handicapped Jon, who refused to put the filthy man down. The Northern King couldn't help but feel that e was too important to abandon.