Set in Stone - Haldir's Story -

Chapter 29 - Leaving

Lady Galadriel looked down upon her long, pale fingers. Nenya had never moved from her index finger, but its mysterious gleaming had gone forever: its powers were fading and so was Lórien. – "What are you contemplating?" Celeborn was right behind her, he'd always been there. – "We will have to leave soon. I thought we might offer Bilbo Baggins a place on the last ship." – Celeborn frowned. "This is not what I meant." – The Lady almost sighed: he'd come to know her so well. "I never got the chance to speak to Celebrimbor," she finally said, "but I knew Curufin, his father." – "I am aware of that: Curufin was a lot older than us." – "One day when I was resting he told me about the rings his son was forging. I should not remember what he told me, since I was as unconscious as elves can be and even close to sleep. I did not remember he had spoken to me when I awoke. Yet I do remember now." She looked at her husband with those sea-blue eyes. "I think he put a spell on me to have me remember when the time came. I just wish I had known sooner." Her eyes dropped, then she looked at her husband again. "Curufin told me about Náre. His son had explained a ring that controlled fire would not let anyone take its power." – Celeborn nodded. "The ring would rather explode and set all its power free than have it fade away, am I not right?" – "You are. Yet Curufin feared for the ring-bearer; he was wise – wiser than we will ever be, I fear. Curufin always suspected something was not quite right about the rings, even though he never suspected Sauron was planning to forge one to control the others. That night, Curufin – knowing that his death would soon be on him – told me he had convinced his son to try and protect the ring-bearer, if he was indeed innocent." – Celeborn slowly shook his head. "How would Náre know? Whether it was the ring-bearer who wants to take his power, or someone else?" – The Lady's eyes seemed empty. "It was a risk and could easily turn out wrong, but then Celebrimbor never actually expected that someone could forge a ring so powerful it would deprive the others of their powers when being destroyed. Rings of power – although no living beings and incapable of feeling – know when someone else is wearing them. In the split-second when Náre knows its power would be taken, it simply adds up whether the current bearer has used it more for healing or for destroying. The setting free of Náre's power can take two different shapes, just as its power: burning things down with real fire... or fixing them with healing fire. Celebrimbor and his father were arguing a lot about it, but in the end they came to the conclusion that how the ring was used would sketch a sort-of accurate picture of the bearer's personality – or as accurate as it would get. Of course they could be terribly wrong: someone might have used the destructive power for a good purpose, and still not be the one to take the ring's power. But Celebrimbor, not Curufin, was the forger of the rings after all, and he was willing to take the risk."

The good thing was Daëra didn't have time to think. There had been despair at not being able to heal Orophin – and then there had been fire. Since she was wearing the ring, it felt as if she were torn apart: by now she was used to heat, but this exceeded everything she had ever felt. It came all so suddenly that Daëra wasn't even given the chance to be a hero and try to protect Haldir before herself. And even if, protecting him would have been to get away from him, since she was the danger. She and Náre, but they were one now. The flames were her – but that didn't mean it would stop hurting. For some reason, Daëra had flashbacks from when she had first started travelling: she didn't know why, but she saw her father's face in front of her like she used to when he fire-healed her from afar. She hadn't written much, yet he'd always known when she was hurt. The blood was rushing in her ears, drowning out her screaming. And then the flames were gone.

Breathing heavily, Daëra realised she was still standing, her eyes squeezed shut. When she had scraped enough courage together to slowly open them, the first thing she noticed was that her clothes were dangling in singed rags from her and all the grass around her was charred. The fear returned with a vengeance and knocked her to the ground. If they had all died... She should have died too, she couldn't live with everyone gone... Daëra forced her eyes to stay open: there were bodies lying on the ground all over the clearing, the pallets were toppled over without exception, not even Galadriel was anywhere to be seen. Daëra could hardly breathe; it was as if her neck had suddenly become too tight to let in enough air. Why had Náre exploded, Sauron had been defeated, hadn't he, or Nenya would have exploded, too. Perhaps it had and Daëra just hadn't noticed, being engulfed by her own ring's flames... But then where was Galadriel? Why wasn't she alive, too?