LOTR RPG (2)

[tancred]

[Last post, as written by Ali]:


Imthoron walked slower than normal, pacing herself a ways back from the group. She twitched every once and a while, but seemed quite content, nonetheless.

Arratil kept looking back, filled with worry. It couldn't be good for a person's--or in that case, an ent's--health to be alone all day long, not speaking. He didn't know whether to go and talk to her or to stay ahead. If he spoke to her, what would he say? If Arratil stayed ahead, would she be upset with him? He couldn't think clearly. His mind was clouded with the memory of a horrible dream that had come to him last night. Wishing he knew what it meant, for it was so vivid, it caused him physical pain to cold it back. Arratil decided to talk to Imthoron.

"Imp, you rascal! Why are you so far back?" Arratil slowed his horse to a halt and waited for the ent to come pounding up.

"Just thinking," she hoomed with glee. "Enjoying the view!"

"Ah, yes. I was wondering if I could have a talk with you..."

The two paused.

"It's about a dream I had last night," Arratil was hesitant to speak and held his breath as if saying it made it real. He lowered his voice to a whisper when he noticed Tancred looking back to check on them both. "You must tell no one."

Imthoron nodded and kept walking.

"You see, we were all walking past the Mines of Moria, and there came a noise," Arratil made a lousy attempt to recall that sound. "It was a low rumbling, but not just a rumble, it had a particular note. It was so surreal. It echoed and I heard it well. Tancred was speaking, but I didn't know what he was saying. I didn't recognize his voice."

Imthoron shuddered.

"Andy looked back, his face wasn't right. I could see in his eyes that he hid no emotion," Arratil's noise croaked.

"What was wrong with them?" Imthoron asked the very question an entling like herself would.

"They..." he stuttered, "...they were all dead, Imp. I don't know how or why but something was wrong."

Imthoron looked to him with fear. "What do you think it means?"

"I'm not sure," Arratil wiped a tear before it dropped from his eye. "I just hope it doesn't tell the future!" he smiled to hide his pain and horror.

[Athena]

Numair rested, his head leaning against his packroll. In the darkness and night he could dimly see Oracle's eyes gleaming in the gloom. After their day's travels, the company had gone through a quick dinner. As Tancred reminded them,

"It would be their last hot meal for some time. As we are nearing unknown territory and who knows who would stumble upon our campfire?"

Numair groaned and rolled over to his other side. The insufferable knight! Always trying to be leader. Numair snorted, Tancred's act was trying and annoying, but Numair would deal with it before long.

Numair's pupils began to dilate larger. His golden brown eyes, slowly turning into inky black pools of darkness. His breathe started coming in faster and faster, in ragged gasps. Oracle to seemed to grown larger, an indistinct black shape in the night.

"Are, are you alright Sir Numair?" asked a hesitant Isotta. "I was wandering around for a bit of night air and then I thought I heard some no..."

"I'm fine" growled Numair, abruptly back to his normal self. "Just...go away."

Isotta looked as if she wanted to take him to task for his rudeness, but instead she glared at him and stumbled off. Probally to that no good knight. Thought Numair sarcastically.

Numair settled back deeper, his old shoulder wound starting to pain him once more. Oh how he couldn't wait till he would be done with these tiresome people...

[Daughter of Almost-Evil]

Aspen sat still, gazing at the ground. She could not rest, even though Mynawen was on watch. She could feel evil in the air, as well as the bitter cold. She hugged her cloak tighter round herself, and looked around. She saw something stir, but it was only the hobbit, Violet, turning in her sleep.

Somewhere in the distance a warg howled, but it did not sound close. Everything seemed to Aspen suspicious, something was bound to happen.
Tightening her grip on her bow, she stood up, and joined Myna.

"Something seems wrong" she told the other elf, glancing around, "It is in the air."

"I have heard many wargs howl this night, but it seems as though they are distancing their selves from us "Myna replied, shuddering.

[tancred]

The night had passed, and so had all sign of fear or danger to the company members (all save Aspen, a very uptight and overcautious Elf). The road they were travelling upon was fairly well-marked, having been made in conjunction by both Elves and Dwarves to last the decay of time.

Eventually, the road forked, and it was here the company stopped. If they were to continue straight on, the road would have dived into a shallow valley. That was the road to the West Gate of Moria. The valley could not be seen clearly, so enveloped in shadow and fog as it was. The road that forked off to their left was the road they were to take--the Redhorn Pass. Even now, Caradhras, the mighty Redhorn itself, loomed ominously up above them. A rough, gailing wind streemed down from the mountain, biting everyone there.

The company shivered, the Hobbits a little more audibly than the others. Tancred chuckled. "Yes, my little friends," he said, "it is going to be very cold up in the mountains, summer though it be. There might even be snow." Violet and Andy looked at the knight and at each other uncomfortably. "Not to worry, though," continued Tancred. "Elrond and his sons were wise and kind enough to supply us all with Warg pelt coats. As they themselves said, those are even warmer than bear hide. One can't beat that!"

Almost as if on cue, each member of the company took out their pelted coats, and donned them (all except Imp, of course). The company all looked gray and black now, furry and warm. To help their poor horses aid against the cold, the spare Warg pelt throws were tied under their saddles and over their bodies. Filling their waterskins one last time from a nearby stream, the company turned left, and began their ascension.

The road was everything they were fearing: winding, steep, narrow in spots, and it was very cold. Yet, the snow was not overly deep. In the places it was, the Hobbits hopped up on to their ponies. And the pace the company took was a leisurely one. There was no sense in haste if it meant one might suddenly tumble off the mountainside or get lost in the fog and snow. There were cisterns at regular intervals, so there was no lack of water. There were only two really bad things: the cold (largely kept at bay with the Warg coats), and the fact they had to walk and could not ride their horses in the pass. Once night fell, the company found a shallow shelf off the path and away from the mountain's edge to shelter in and make a fire.

A few hours into the third day of travelling, and company hoped they were near the summit. They were. By noon, the path began to level off. Everyone's ears popped several times, and this was the highest they had been. It was a fairly bright and clear day, most of the clouds and fog being below them now. Up ahead loomed something large and dark that could not be made out with certainty.

Suddenly, there was a loud hornblast. Another followed, and finally a loud voice thundered and echoed in that lofty place. "Who goes there," it called. "A pack of Wargs, with two welps, some even larger horse-looking Wargs, and a walking tree!? Who are you? State your business quickly, and waste not the time of the Dwarves of the Dwarrowdelf!"

"We must be at the Redhorn Gate," whispered Amrod to the others. He had been walking in the lead, and stopped suddenly in his tracks.

"So it seems," said Tancred. He walked forward a little ways with Amrod, while the others stayed with the horses. "My good Dwarven Lords," he called, hand held palm outwards in sign of peace. "Clad as Wargs we are, yet only in order to keep the cold out. Travellers we are from the north, and we seek passage from one side of the Misty Mountains to the other. We humbly beg leave to continue on our way."

"Diplomatic enough," said the Dwarven voice. "Too much so to be Orc or other foul beast, whatever the hide may seem to say by its appearance." It said this almost as an aside to a companion or too itself. It now regained its volume, and spoke to the company. "Approach now. Slowly. Pay the toll required by users of the Redhorn Pass for its upkeep, and you may pass. All with the good grace and blessing of the Lord of the Dwarrodelf."

Amrod and Tancred turned back to retrieve the others. The company then approached the Gate, slowly and in single file. As they neared, the fog lifted, and the Gate itself could be seen. It seemed to be at the very peak of Caradhras. The mountain stretched out two last shoulders on either side of the pass, and in between, the Dwarves had built a massive gate. Stone walls thirty feet high made a solid barrier. They were crenelated on top, and Dwarves with crossbows could be seen marching to and fro behind them, the tips of their fur-lined helms just barely visible. There were three corbels hanging out over the wall, allowing for excellent flanking fire should the gate come under attack. The Gate itself was a large wooden door, shod in iron. It was already open, and revealed a tunnel behind it. The tunnel had porticulli further barring the way, and the hinges of another wooden door could just barely be seen on the other end. On either side of the wooden doors stood four Dwarven guards, each huddled by their own fire.

Armed with axes and spears, the guards approached. They were clad in armor and furs, and the lead one spoke to Tancred. It was he who had yelled at them from a distance, and seemed to be the captain. "Goodday to you, oddly-clad travellers," he said. "The toll for using the Pass is five...."

Before he could finish, Aegnor charged forward. His eyes were wide, and there was heat and anger in his voice as he yelled out, "There are Elves in this company, myself being one. I'm sure your Dwarven prejudice will demand you charge twice the toll for each Elf that need pass!"

Tancred cringed, narrowed his eyes, and sighed. The Dwarf cringed as well, but continued on as if he had not heard Aegnor's words, "As I was saying, the toll for using the Pass is five bronze pieces per person, two for each child (as you seem to have a couple yourself), and one for each horse or other pack animal." "

"We've never had a walking tree up here before, but I suppose it would count as a person. So, five for the tree." He looked at Imp long and hard, and the Ent blushed mightily. The kindly Dwarf then turned to the two Hobbits, who he mistook as children. "My, you two are cute," he said with a smile. "I have four children of my own at home. I can not wait to hurry home to them and my fair wife next month. You two remind me of my youngest children." In true Hobbit fashion, Andy bowed to the Dwarf, and Violet curtsied and smiled.

The Dwarf captain then turned to the still fuming Aegnor, and said in a stern and proud tone, "You, Sir Elf, seem to know nothing. Dwarves and Elves have had their differences in the past, true enough. Yet, you think that would gurantee unjust partiality in tolls? In my mind, that is a most cruel thing to say. More cruel than many insults I have heard in my long life time. Whatever else they may be, Dwarves are fair. They are especially so in what they do best--anything in the lines of business, trade, weapons, and armor. Or so at least I can speak for we of the House of Durin. I would not have charged you a ha'penny more for any reason. You have insulted me dearly, Sir Elf. Who now, I ask you, is truly the one with prejudice? It is my right to refuse you passage, and I could do just that."

Tancred looked at Aegnor, elbowed him in the ribs, and whispered to him, " Dolt!"

He then turned to the Dwarf captain. "Please, my lord," he said. "This Elf here is a member of our company by chance, not by design, and certainly by no choice of my own. He stumbled upon us as we traveled, and hasn't left yet! As much as he annoys me, I beg of you to let him pass."

"I was going to before you even spoke," explained the Dwarf captain. "If only to teach him a lesson and in the hopes of lessening Elvish hard-headedness. Come. Pay your toll, and be on your way."

The company each payed their toll, for themselves and their horses. Including the two pack horses, the total came to 91 bronze pieces. If one person had to pay the total, it would have been steep. But as each was paying for his own toll and his horse's, it wasn't bad. Elrond had also spotted them some travelling expenses to begin with. The toll was just. Considering the trouble Aegnor had almost caused, Tancred thought the company got the better of the deal.

As they all walked through the echoing gate tunnel, Tancred turned around, and thanked the Dwarven captain. "Thank you, noble Dwarf. May Aule prosper you til the end of your days!"

"Go in peace," called back the Dwarf. "May Aule and the good grace of the Dwarves of Durin's House follow you to your journey's end!"

[~Kawaii~]

And Tancred picked his nose

[tancred]

Having reached the highest point along the Redhorn Pass, it now descended before the company. This seemed to raise everyones' spirits, including the horses, despite the fact it would take another two days to finally reach the bottom.

Well, not everyone was in good spirits. Numair, Oracle, and Katalyn were not. But of course, they never seemed to be. And Aegnor was also upset due to his shaming at the gate by the Dwarf captain and his rebuke by Tancred. Yet the rest of the company could not be bothered with such depressing attitudes; the path was getting lower and lower, and the temperature gradually increased.

And finally, two days had passed, and the Vale of the Silverlode opened up before them. The Pass leveled off, and continued south-east in the shape of a definate, marked road. To their right a good league was the opening of the Valley of Naudinhiron, where lay the East Gate of Moria. They could not see the Gate, and it was not their mission to go there. Nor would any of them want Aegnor so near the heart of Dwarvendom on Middle-earth!

The company continued on, Myna the Elf from Lorien at their head. In the vale, it was very much the season of Summer. It was warm, green, and wet. The company shed their Warg pelt coats, stowed them away, and mounted their horses for the first time in many days. Smiles were upon most of their faces; by nightfall, they could be at the very eaves of Lothlorien the Golden.

[Mrs Dan Hawkins]

Calen sighed happily as they entered the relm of Lorien and she heard Caran do the same next to her she turned to him with a smile which brightened her whole face.
She turned to face the hobbits who were riding next to her and began to tell them of the wonders that Lorien held .

*^*^*^*^*^*^^**

** sorry its short im tierd and jeffus said i had 2 post on both rpgs so i have done, next time i might just show him and nic my pic**

[Aladrien]

Imthoron hurried up to hear Calen's story of Lorien. She was ready for something to lighten her mood and after Arratil's dream, she could use anything! As Imp passed by the other trees, she felt shy again and insignificantly small. These trees were all so grand and Imthoron was undeveloped, thin and gangly. Suddenly, Imp didn't feel happy anymore and a bit jealous of the large, beautiful and seemingly glowing trees.

[Niphredil]

Violet and Andy listened politely to Calen as she began to tell them stories about Lorien. Usually it was easy for them to sit quietly and hear a tale, but they were rather distracted by the breath-taking landscape that surrounded them. Violet couldn't remember ever seeing trees so large or so incredibly beautiful.

"What are these trees called?" Violet asked absent-mindedly, interrupting Calen mid-sentance, though she didn't really mean to.

"They are called mallorn trees," Calen said kindly. As Calen was about to go on with her tale, the people at the front of the group suddenly halted. Violet looked to her right and was surprised to see an Elf standing there, with bow and arrow pointed at her head.

She gulped and as cheerfully as she could, said, "Hello!"

"Silence, little one," the Elf commanded sternly, yet gently. Up ahead she could hear Caran speaking with some other Lorien guards, though she could not understand what they were saying because they spoke in Elivsh. She watched as Caran and the Elf guard embraced; they seemed to know each other. Just then the guard said something to the other guards and they all lowered their bows.

"Can I say hello now?" Violet whispered to the guard standing next to her. He was a little taken aback at her question, and smiled at her and laughed.

"Yes, you may, miss...?"

"Violet Took, at your sevice," she said, bowing her head slightly.

"Well, Violet Took, you may call me Gildor," he said. Violet and Gildor chatted for quite some time as they journeyed through the woods of Lorien. Soon enough, the majestic grandeur of Caras Galadhon was before them....

[Vortigen]

Aegnor was cold. He had pushed his emotion so far beyond his limits that he actually felt cold. As they passed down the mountain he pulled his mantle around him and his hood over his face. Thinking back he remembered all he could of Galadriel, he had always though of her as a bit of a show off but never the less a good person and a powerful factor in the history of Arda.

The company passed into the realm of Lothlorien with much ease and Aegnors tension eased a little in an area of such obvious elven magic. He strayed to the end of the company holding back a litle from the rest as he lagged a bit until Caran beckoned him foward.

"I wasnt sure if I was welcome" he said loud enough for Tancred to hear.

When they were finally met by the guards he stood well in the back of the of the company trying not to be noticed. They walked among the towering trees seeing the ladders hanging down from the high flets. At Last they came to the very crest of the hill were the highest flet perched high in a tree. Aegnor waited, trying to look patient as he waited for the company to climb the rope ladder, he finally watched as Katalyn moved towards the ladder giving it a reproving glance.

"Feel as if you are being hopelessly dragged into something you shall never be able to escape?" he said softly to her as she moved foward. Her look was laced with disdain but also held the air of agreement.

[tancred]

The climb up the ladder to ther royal flet was a long and tiring one. And it was one Imp the Ent could not make; the rope ladder was too small and weak to support her. She sighed, waited at the foot of the great tree, and marvelled at its beauty.

Tancred had seen Elves before; not only had he been travelling with several of them for a few weeks now, but there were also those he had met in Rivendell and those from Lindon that every now and again could be seen aiding the Dunedain in their wars with Angmar. Tancred had also seen for the first time Elves in dwellings of their own in Rivendell. Yet the air here, in Lorien, was altogether different. It was mystical in its own way: deep, melodic, vague, serene, and utterly beautiful.

For one as enchanted as this, it made the climb up the lofty ladder rather more dangerous than usual. The knight's head swam in wonder, and he swayed from left to right as he ascended. Suddenly, his foot slipped on one of the rungs. Tancred fell down two of the rungs himself, his palms burning as they slid down the rope ladder while trying to maintain their grip.

He would have fallen further, and dragged those beneath with him had not Isotta been as alert as she was. The young maiden, used to the towering heights of Minas Anor, did not suffer from the dizzying effects the others did. She had been leaning towards the left side of the ladder, straining for a closer glimpse over the lower flets of the city. Her ears pricked at the slipping sound, she gripped the ladder with her left hand as tightly as she could, and lifted her right arm up to support the falling knight. She latched on to the back of his belt as he slipped down rung by rung, and steadied him.

Tancred just barely caught his breath. He looked at Isotta, a fearful expression upon his face. "Oi," he gasped. "Thank you, m'lady! Remind me that I am in your debt!" Isotta smiled bashfully at him, and motioned him on up without a word.

A little to his comfort, Tancred noticed he was not the only one having at least slight difficulty with the ladder. Up above him, he noticed the Hobbits, Violet and Andy, laboring. Violet let out a little squeak as she steadied herself on the ladder. She could be barely heard to say, "I am not afraid, I am not afraid!" Andy, climbing beneath her, chuckled delightedly. She looked down at him, and risked letting one hand go to ruffle down her dress. " Don't you be looking at my bloomers, Andy Tunnelly," she warned. Andy only laughed more, and continued on.

After some time, the entire company finally reached their destination, the throneroom of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. It was a vast flet, and had wooden walls on all sides (unlike the other flets lower to the ground). There were several Elvish guards stationed about the room, swords and spears at the ready. Towards the back of the flet were two great, empty thrones.

The company remained standing for several minutes. Finally, an important looking Elf announced in a clear voice, "Their Majesties, the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, have arrived."

Two forms approached from behind the thrones. Both were slender, one was strong, and the other graceful and feminine. Hand in hand, they walked to their thrones, and seated themselves.

Without thinking, Tancred bowed low. Yet, his eyes could not be taken from the Lady Galadriel. Never had he seen someone as ancient or radiant as she. There was something about her that just exuded power. A remanant of the Eldar Days she was, the Light of the Two Trees still upon her face and in her eyes, and unlike anything that yet walked in all of Middle-earth. Tancred found himself short of breath.

The Lord Celeborn, his long silver hair glistening upon his shoulders and his voice deep and wise, spoke, "Welcome esteemed guests. Long has it been since folk from Imaldris have ventured to Lothlorien the Golden, and longer still since any of the Children of Men have done so." Even as he said this, he marvelled at the tiny Hobbits, yet in a subtle and polite manner.

"Indeed," agreed Galadriel, her voice soft and yet deep. "An errand that brings such a diverse company must be extremely urgent. It is somewhat known to us, for Lord Elrond is close in counsel with the Lord and Lady of the Wood. Yet, after we are introduced to each of you, I would have it known what Elrond's counsels are, in as close of words as he did say."

Mynawen, an Elf from Lorien herself, was known to the Lord and Lady, and she spoke as the company's representative. She introduced each of them, and then bowed to the Lord and Lady. "Lady Galadriel. Lord Celeborn. I have a parchment written by Elrond himself regarding his counsels. Here it is, signed and sealed by him personally." She handed the sealed scroll to an attendant, who then handed it to Celeborn. Mynawen continued, "Yet, he also bade the company that we speak his counsel with our own tongues, as well."

"Lord Elrond deems that the Shadow rising in southern Mirkwood is spreading. And at an alarming rate. What that Shadow itself is, is not known. Yet it fills the surrounding areas with dread, and if ever the names Necromancer or Dol Guldur are spoken aloud, all cringe. Elrond is fearful this power is not an new one, but rather one from of old. Perhaps a powerful servant of he that was vanquished at the end of the Second Age. Whatever it is, Lord Elrond thinks it wise that common counsel and possibly action be taken. He desires to meet with all the Wise, Imaldris itself being the logical place for such a meeting. It is said that Curunir is already making his way northward from Angrenost to Imaldris. To Lindon where Cirdan dwells, his messengers have already been. Mithrandir has been notified, he acting as advisor to the King of Arthedain at this time. It was hoped Aiwendil could be found near his home in southern Greenwood. Yet, it is not our task to locate him. Rather, we are Elrond's messengers to you, the Lord and Lady of the Wood, and to King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. Elrond greatly desires your counsels, and wishes you all to meet him in Imaldris if you may. After we have left Lothlorien, it is then our task to convey the same message to Thranduil. So are the words of Lord Elrond of Imaldris." Mynawen bowed low out of respect, and stepped backwards, in line with her comrades.

Celeborn answered softly, "We thank you for bringing word to us this long way you have travelled. Given past messages with Elrond, we had percieved his mind, and that he would call for just such a council. Lady Galadriel and I have spoken and thought of this for some time. The advice of Elrond is deemed prudent, and we shall indeed accept his invitation. It will be good to visit that peaceful valley once again." Celeborn smiled almost wistfully at the thought.

"What of King Thranduil in Greenwood," asked Galadriel. "There are Elves from that realm in this company. Are they privy to his thoughts and counsels? I greatly desire to know of them, and would wish that the one dwelling so nigh this Shadow would meet with us. His perspective would be firsthand and extremely relevant. What say you, kindred from Greenwood?"

Calen almost blushed, and bowed her head. Caran looked nervously about, and yet finally stood forth with a bow. "My Lady," he said, "I know not for certain, yet I fear King Thranduil, in all of his wisdom, will not venture forth from his own realm. Even as he attempts to stem this ever-encroaching Shadow, his thoughts are sometimes elsewhere. I am not sure if he deems this threat to be as serious as Lord Elrond does."

Galadriel and Celeborn looked at each other with troubled expressions. Finally, the latter spoke, "We shall have to think upon this matter further. In the meantime, I thank you for your bringing this news to us. The grattitude of the Lord and Lady of the Wood is great indeed, and we would have you enjoy your stay here. Please, journey back to the bottom of this tree, and there find for yourselves refreshment, food, lodging, and rest. We shall send for you when the time is right."

"Farewell for now, good guests," said Galadriel.

The company all bowed in turn, and made their way down the the lofty flet.

[Athena]

Making his way down the ladder, Numair was furious although he hoped his face did not potray his anger. Oracle seated on her customary spot on his shoulder to hissed in anger. Numair trembling with anger murmered to Oracle,

"I know my lass, I know. Imagine the gall of them. Seated comfortably in their little..hidey hole, snug away from harm. While the rest of Middle Earth rides forth to save it, some of the most powerful elves of the world merely rest and relax here. Only deigning to take in visitors. My gods! A princess has more courage then they do. A talking tree, hobbits even came this long way, this long journey. 'We shall send for you when the time is right'." He mimcked Celeborn's parting words. Disgusted he shook his head and murmered "elves" with distatse.

Aegnor, climbing behind Numair eyed him with distrust.

Oracle suddenly voiced a loud purr, rumbling deep within her throat, turning his head, Numair percieved Katalyn skipping lightly down the ladder, her eyes downcast as she paid attention to her goal. Feeling his eye's upon her, she looked up, both staring at the other for a moment. Numair bowed his head slighly, his eyes inscrutable. Katalyn opened her mouth as if to say something, then gracefully inclined her head and continued primly down.

Isotta walked before Tancred, although for once her thoughts were not on those of her companions. Although she had grown up with beauty and splendor. The rich tapestries of the elves were shown in full force in Lothorien, their sacred resting place. She looked around once more, staring in awe. Suddenly she tripped, and would have fallen if the strong hand of Tancred had not steadied her. Looking up, she saw his face looking anxiously down upon her to see if she was alright, his eyes holding a questioning look to them.

"I'm fine" she anwsered to the unspoken question, then feeling that common courtasy demanded more, she added " thank you".

"Twas of no matter" said Tancred, still smiling down at her. Isotta began to blush at the continued attention and Tancred hastily drew his hand away, his face scarlet.

"A, are you certain you are alright then?" he asked

"Quite" she replied, more brusque then she intended it to sound, "I am not some flower that needs tending, I am now completely helpless"

"I never said you were" said a now thoroughly confused Tancred

"Well allright then" said Isotta, and she brushed her way past Tancred and continued on her way down. Her face felt flushed, and she dimly wondered what had come over her to ask that way. Often she felt as if a net was closing in around her, tighter and tighter whenever she was near Tancred, although she could not explain it. Suddenly the beauty of Lothorien paled to her and she could not bare it. She turned as if to apoligize to Tancred but he was not there, instead he was talking once more to the hobbits, his back to her. I'll talk to him later. Isotta decided, when he's alone I'll explain myself and make amends.

[Niphredil]

Violet breathed a sigh of relief as soon as her furry feet were on solid ground again.

"Oh, this is much better then being way up in that tree," she mumbled.

"It is indeed!" Andy said agreeing with her. "Not that I doubt the sturdiness of the Elven folks' strutures, but Hobbits belong on the ground."

"Or under it," Violet added.

"With a pint of ale," Andy said with a grin, to which Violet rolled her big blue eyes.

"I would agree," Tancred said, walking up to them and smiling. "I was quite fearful for you two, walking those tall steps with your short legs."

"Yes. Well. We didn't fall!" Violet said brightly. Andy chuckled, quickly muffling it with a cough, and the two padded off leaving a rather perplexed-looking knight behind them.

An Elf guided them to a quiet glade where they could rest, eat, and drink to their hearts' content.

~***~***~***~***~

Nevwethiel held the hem of her lavender gown as she quickly descended the steps of the flet she had been staying on. She was anxious to see the newcomers to Lorien, especially Calen and Caran. Imagine running into them here, of all places! she thought. She hurried along a path until finally coming to the guests designated resting area.

"Calen, Caran!" She called to her old friends. They looked at her in surprise and then smiled as she embraced them both in a hug.

"Nev, it's so wonderful to see you!" Caran and Calen said at once. Caran turned to face the others. "Everyone this is a friend of our's, Nevwethiel of Rohan."

"How have your parents been? And what brings you to Lothlorien?" Calen asked, ignoring everyone else.

"My parents fare well," Nev said. "They have grown very old, and Mother's eyesight is failing, but they're still so happy together." She smiled at the thought of her parent's love, still so strong after so many years, but then her smile faded slightly. "As to what I'm doing here. A few weeks ago, my brother Morsul and I were traveling north, when a blizzard came upon us, and we were seperated. A band of Elves who were out on a hunting party came across me, and invited me to stay in Lorien, sure that the Lord and Lady would not turn me away, and obviously they did not. You may have met one of those who assisted me, Gildor. He was with the party you encountered when you first came here, and it was he who told me of your coming."

"I do not recall meeting him, but there were many in that party," Caran said. "One thing puzzles me: you said you left three weeks ago--"

"Something like that, but I am not certain," Nev said.

"--in the middle of winter? But it is late spring now; summer is near."

"Time does pass differently in Lorien," Mynawen said with a knowing smile.

"Obviously so!" Nev said. "I had no idea! Oh dear, that would mean I've been gone for months. My parents must be ill with worry!"

"Oh do not fret, I'm sure they are not," Calen reassured her.

"Well, I told you what I am doing here, but what of you all?"

"We are on a mission of grave importance," Caran said.

"Do you always bring children on quests of grave importance?" Nev asked, motioning to the Hobbits who were sleeping soundly on comfortable looking cots.

"Nay, they are not children, young lady," Tancred said walking up. "I am Tancred, a Knight of Arthedain," he said with a bow, to which Nev curtsied gracefully. "Violet and Andy are not children, but they are Hobbits, or Halflings as you may call them in your land."

"Ah, I see. I have heard tales of Halflings before though never thought I should meet any. Thank you for the clarification, Sir Knight. But take heed, dear boy; I may not be from an Elven realm but I am of Elven descent, and am old enough to be your mother."

Calen said in Elvish, "You almost were his mother." Nev looked at her confused. " Doesn't he look familiar to you?" Calen asked, only in the Common Tongue. Nev looked at Tancred again.

"Is he--" Nev started to ask.

"He is," Calen said.

"He's not!"

"He is!" Calen said again.

"What am I?" Tancred asked.

"Tancred, this is the daughter of Nilphy and Alkore, who went on that little journey with me and Caran and your grandfather," Calen said. "Surely you remember those stories."

"Ah, I do indeed," he said, nodding his head slowly. "How interesting that we should meet like this."

"Yes, it is interesting," Nev said.

"Well, we can talk about how interesting it is later," Calen said. She took one of Nev's hands and gave a tug. "But right now, I have a million things to talk to you about! Come, let's go for a walk." And with that, the two left the group behind and went off on their own.

[Aladrien]

Imthoron was in a state of confusion. She had not been informed as to what occurred in the treetops and all seemed well in the company. She sad in a corner, slightly off by herself, when she soon spotted Arratil.

"Imp, you shy little girl!" apparently he was looking for her as well. His transition from a standing to a brisk jog was subtle. "Why are you all alone? We're all going to have dinner to selebrate a safe journey's here! Isn't that excellent?"

Imthoron smiled. The thought of the other eating real food, other than apples, made her glow. Although she didn't eat what they ate, she'd be happy if they started to eat balanced meals. "When are we leaving?"

"As soon as everyone is ready, which should be soon. I suppose you're coming now?" Arratil grinned, bearing his pearly teeth beneath his stubble.

"Of course!" Imthoron would never miss out on a casual gathering.

"Hey, I might even get a sharp enough knife to get rid of this stubble I've developed. What do you think?"

"Good idea!" Imthoron laughed.

[tancred]

Several nights after the ambassadors from Elrond had arrived, Celeborn found himself walking amidst the glens of Caras Galadhon. He was alone, having asked his attendants to leave him to his thoughts. Having passed by a sheltered glade, the Lord of Lorien was somewhat surprised to find a light eminating from within it; it was a royal glade after all, and who now would be there?

Celeborn descended the small stairs into the glade, and there stood his wife. She was looking into a wide basin upon a pedestal, unbent and unstooping. Galadriel did not hear or sense her husband's arrival, and remained fixated upon the waters of the bowl. Celeborn remained silent for some time. When Galadriel finally looked up from the basin, he finally spoke, "I thought you were back at the palace, dearest wife. Did I not just leave you there when I left?"

Galadriel jumped, but only slightly. "You startled me, my Lord," she said. "But yes, you did leave me at the palace. Yet that was nigh on an hour ago. You must have been walking for some time."

"And you, m'Lady, have been gazing into your Mirror," noted Celeborn. "I know it can be of great use to you, yet sometimes I fear for you; fear for what the Mirror might show."

Galadriel smiled out of the corner of her lips. "Fear not, my love," she said. "The Mirror is mine. I know of its capabilities and uses. I think your fear of what it might show is a fear of the future. Yet, this is not what the Mirror is about. The future it may show. Yet it might also show the past or the present. Things one deems to be of the future may never come to be. It is all possibility. I have some control over what I see, yet rarely use it. It is unwise for one who views things in the Mirror to attempt to change what they percieve as the future. Might very well turn out to be counterproductive. I am fine."

Celeborn looked at his wife with a look of doubt. "And everything you saw in there just now was good? Nothing of possibly evil portent?"

Galadriel laughed lightly. "Yes indeed, my Lord. It was all quite safe." Quickly (almost too quickly), she changed the subject. "What think of you King Thranduil? Will he come to Lord Elrond's council?"

"I have had my differences with Thranduil, as you know," answered Celeborn. "Yet I also share the thoughts of you and Elrond that his pressence and counsel are of the utmost importance. I greatly desire to speak to him, and learn of Greenwood the Great's peril. That said, I fear our Elven guests from his realm are correct, and Thranduil will not come. I know not why I think this way. Just a sense of foreboding has overcome me. Thranduil is concerned more about hunting and feasting, and most of all the hoarding of gems and gold. More Dwarvish at heart than Elvish! Nay, I am positive. King Thranduil will not come."

"So have I concluded," said Galadriel silently. She now cleared her throat, and spoke in a raised and determined voice, "That is why I shall be going to Greenwood the Great to personally meet with the King, and persuade him to come to the council."

Celeborn nearly choked. "It is too dangerous," he said, his voice raised in concern. "Our realm extends east to the River, and no further. You could not travel safely with certainty once you crossed the Anduin. You would have an escort of course, but even the best of guards fail once in a blue moon."

"That is why in addition to the a few guards that I would take, I would also be travelling with Lord Elrond's ambassadors. As you can see, I would be well protected. Not to mention, I would be travelling without pomp or recognition. Fairly secretly, as a matter of fact."

"Yet, the Necromancer's dominion over southern Greenwood would be so nigh your path," protested Celeborn.

"If the ambassadors' proposed route is the path we would be taking, then it avoids southern Greenwood quite well. All things will be quite safe."

"Is there any way I might dissaude you," asked Celeborn one last time.

"No, I am afraid not," replied Galadriel. "I have made up my mind, and will not be gainsaid. Now if you will excuse me, I think I shall retire for the night. Goodnight my Lord."

"Goodnight, my love," said Celeborn as he leaned in for a kiss. The kiss was loving and passionate; despite their disagreement, both knew the argument wasn't to be taken seriously or to heart.

Galadriel left, her slender form ascending the steps gracefully. Celeborn looked after his retreating wife for some time. He then turned to the Mirror for a look of his own....