After a few nights travel and a large amount of silence from me, Gandalf sat beside me at the fire, stoking his pipe congenially.
"We've had a peaceful enough journey, thus far," he offered.
I exhaled a little smile, thinking it must have looked more like a wince.
"You are not yourself, My Lady. Are you fearful about your new station?"
"No. Not much."
"Yet something weighs heavily upon your heart..." He took a pull from his pipe and fixed a side eye upon me. "Or someONE," he added, puffing out a smoke ring that transformed into an Elven leaf.
My breath caught in my throat, but I said nothing.
"He cares for you, My Lady. Of that I am certain."
Finally, I let out my breath and with it sprung loose some silent weeping. I'd held it in long enough, it seemed.
"Yes. And he is an elf. He cares for me as a little sister who needs protecting. He calls me Little Mortal, for fate's sake," I said.
"But you love him," Gandalf said, matter-of-factly.
"Of course," I started, then realized it was the first time I had admitted that out loud.
Gandalf laid a comforting hand upon my back. "Raena, we do not fully know why the heavens have placed us here, but I do know there is nothing without purpose under the stars. And what seems a fruitless agony...it too will be woven into the beautiful tapestry of a song."
"Gandalf...would it not have been easier to tell me there is a reason for everything and to have faith?"
"Easier? Well...no."
I laughed a little, which was a relief. "No. I suppose it's all the same to you, Mithrandier."
He hurumphed, but his pipe-smoking smile gave him away.
My smile, however, quickly faded as the distraction of humor wore off and a sinking feeling returned.
I wondered what the Marchwarden was doing that very minute, and if he'd thought of me at all. I imagined he could never know how badly I missed him. How much I yearned to spend one more moment with him, if only to hear his voice. I would gladly have accepted the punishment of his training, if it meant I could be near to him again.
--
We did not encounter any orcs on the journey to Rohan. But we did come across a troll, or more...it came across us...which terrified me more than any single orc could.
It was during our last night out of doors before we were destined to reach Rohan. The troll was attracted to our fire and the smell of our food, and he rushed our party, which was thankfully made up of two Elven guards and one of Rohan who had joined us at a meeting place halfway. They made quick work of him, but not before I could practice using my bow from a safer distance.
Though my hands were shaking terribly, I called up everything Haldir had repeatedly taught me about my grip, my form and stance and hold, pulled back my arrow and let it fly. It hit him square in the behind.
Not quite what I was aiming for, but at least I'd hit some part of my target, which was impressive considering my terrible prowess with a bow. That obviously didn't kill him, in fact it angered him terribly. But it also distracted him long enough for Rohan's guard to drive a blade into the troll's guts. And that did the trick.
