Song of the Marchwarden - A Deathless Death

Chapter 14 - Foresight

Mithrandir finally reached Imladris, where Frodo the halfling was still in bed. Lord Elrond found him and gestured for him to follow.

"His strength returns." He stated.

"That may be so, Elrond, but the scar will be carried for the rest of his days." Mithrandir countered.

"And yet, he has made it thus far without folding to its evil." Elrond looked deeply into the grey pilgrim's eyes. He did not need blessed with foresight to see what was coming next.

"He should never have had to bear this responsibility. We cannot ask more from him."

Elrond felt the bitterness rise in his throat, "We cannot conceal the evil of this ring, Mithrandir. Our numbers ever dwindle, Saruman is allied with Sauron, and our scouts have been informed that Saruman has successfully bred Orcs with the blood of Gaeariel." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "The fate of the ring lies in the hands of the council."

"Our kin from Mirkwood have given word the outcome of the council." Lord Celeborn looked from Haldir to you. "I understand your training has been going well with Rumil, Gaeariel?"

"Yes," you replied, "My skills have much improved as a warrior, and my strength is akin to my previous incarnation." You smiled inwardly as you thought of all the training sessions which invariably ended with Rumil on the ground or with a sword to his throat. He did however, hone your archery skills, to that of the Galadhrim warriors. You reckoned now you could even split Haldir's arrow down the middle. But you dare not challenge him.

Celeborn continued, "In order to destroy the ring, a fellowship was formed. This consists of four halfings, 2 of the race of men, Legolas Thranduillion and a dwarf."

Haldir's lip curled in disgust, but he quickly regained composure.

"And who then, is the last member?" you asked.

"Mithrandir. They have set path to Mordor. Our hope lies on knife-edge."

You did not understand why the mention of Mithrandir made your stomach drop. You knew nothing good was going to come of this.

A few nights later, as Haldir slept soundly next to you, the moonlight highlighted his striking profile. His round lips begged for kisses to be blessed upon them and his golden hair lay inexplicably neat, even in his slumber. You could not help but think of Mithrandir. You knew something was wrong. It was more than the evil rising, that every elf felt. You could not identify what or why, but you felt there would be no straight road for the fellowship. You brought your knees up to your chest, and the sudden movement triggered the Marchwarden's responses, and he was quickly sitting up, too.

"What troubles you, Gaeariel, you have not slept, nor eaten sufficiently in days." His voice sounding surprisingly alert and laden with concern.

"Haldir, I sense loss over the darkness looming. I cannot explain it, and as every moon rises, I grow surer of battle for me."

"This is why you have been training so hard? Poor Rumil looks like he will fade any day. You cannot continue this, meleth-nin. You must rest. You must eat." Haldir puts him arm round you and his lips caress yours. "Tomorrow, we both rest. I will send Orophin to cover my duties. That way I know you will rest and I will feed you by force if I must."

A dry chuckle escaped your throat. "If you insist mime mel."

You lay your head on Haldir's chest, and listened to his heartbeat in his chest until daylight broke.