Tolkien Tales

Danger

They say I'm dangerous. That one note of my song and they're destroyed. That I've killed orcs simply by singing to the blood that throbs in their veins and tearing it out of them. Even Thranduil, the most feared Elven General of all time, of all time, fears me. It's really quite humorous, because I don't think that I'm that terrible. That I'm something that they should fear quite so badly.

Maybe they should. Because they're right. I've killed before, I've killed with my song. I've killed with my hands. And I've killed with other things too. But something always stops me from massacring people. And that something is the very song that gives me such power. Eru gave me his song. He called me to it when I was so young. He showed me how to use it, to hold the pulsating note, to train the tickle at the back of my throat.

He showed me the darkness where he casts all those that defile his song away. I saw Morgoth there. I hope to see Sauron there one day. One day, not now. No, now, we're too busy fighting a long war.

But he's also shone me the light. No, he's showed me himself. He is the light. The shimmering, glistering, psychedelic tapestry of gemmed light that is pure and perfect. Unbreakable, can't be defeated. It's eternal. And I've seen all of it. Bathed in it, accepted it. Begged for it. Even now, in the darkest nights where my song is torturing some witless Orc, I'm crying out for it, longing for when no one needs to fear the darkness or the songs that haunt them in the dark. When the nightmares cease and the hell that Morgoth unleashed when he desired his song to be preeminent to his creator, well, that's all going to go to hell itself. 

And I will be there. Because I'm one of the Allfather's children. I am his child.

***

The elves of Lorien shifted wearily as they waited on border guard. It had been many years, even in an Elven life-span since Orcs or evil things had attacked the realms of the Lady of Light. But the Lady had been disturbed for almost a year as Men counted it, and so the watch had been doubled, and their immutable faith in her put to the test.

Even Celeborn, the noblest and wisest of the Lorien elves, was starting to doubt his wife's fear. Nothing had happened. Not a scent of Orcs on the border. No trolls moving down from the North, even the Dwarves in Moria had been silent. Their ancient drills went deep, and not even Elven ears could discern them. 

But still Galadriel feared something; feared that which was going to attack her borders. Feared those unknown and unnamed. Who were they?

***

Suddenly, the mood clouded over and Haldir, Marchwarden of Lorien, stiffened. The moon was full, it was a cloudless night. This should not have been happening. Yet there was a terrible scent upon the breeze of the mallyrn trees. He felt darkness, warm and foreboding, yet there was good in it all the same. He immediately gave a command that was echoed along the entire lines of defense, " No dirweg (be watchful)!" 

Haldir held his bow close to him, though the heavy weight of his sword helped him feel reassurance. Everything within him, told him that this was no new enemy and that yet they were not prepared for what they were undertaking.

The birds had all stilled as the moon was covered and the breeze come to an end. Every Elf felt cold and still, aware that some great magic had entered into their realm. Someone was coming to challenge the power and supremacy of their Lady.

Just as she was thought of by every Elven warrior, the magnificent Lady of Light herself appeared and armed to the hilt. Literally. Her ancient sword Culdecco( Flame-colored spine) lay easily in her hand. She acted as though she had not come to the edges of her own land with her sword. She was aware, ready, but she was not frightened and she did not fear her assailant.