LotR RP Jisu/Ko fark your Canon (fu hate me, hate me now)

The young Gondorian Tower Guard was on his way to the kitchens to grab a small bite of food before finishing his preparations when he saw the elf maiden he had met just earlier that day up ahead in the hall. As they approached each other, the knight slowed to a stop and bowed respectively. "Milady, Silarin." he said as he rose.

Though weary emotionally and slightly physically, Silarin returned the bow, a small smile upon her elegant features. “Greetings to you too, young Master Halbarad,” the female elf said in her voice that was the envy of nearly all mortals, the voice of the elves.

“Though you needn’t be so formal, we are all equals here in the house of Lord Elrond, and on the road, and where ever else we may find ourselves,” she finished with a light laugh that almost sounded like chimes.

Halbarad nodded. "I am sorry Milady, I didn't mean to offend-" then cut himself short, realizing he was doing the same thing again. A rare smile passed the serious man's face. He even let out a very small chuckle. He had learned his discipline from both his father growing up and then from his knighthood as well. Honor, respect, valor, dignity, the value of life as well as the necessity of death - all these were key principles to the knight, and they were reflected in the discipline that shown in his brown eyes.

Straightening back up he stood several inches above the elf maiden. He was an impressive sight even when not wearing his full suit of Gondorian Tower Guard armor. His brown hair was cut just at his neck. He was clean shaven now but often developed a slight beard when traveling or if posted somewhere outside of a city. And even though he was wearing his civilian clothes, he still wore his sword at his side. The sword had been in his family for many many generations and had killed many of Gondor's enemies. Halbarad had been given it by his father when he became a knight. Since then, it had never left Hal's side and so, even within the safest city on Middle-Earth, he wore it.

Silver eyes sparkled with a hidden curiosity. It was not often that Silarin came into contact with humans set upon the old ways, much less knew of her status, but perhaps, this one was merely chivalrous, and was not aware of her concealed identity.

Most elves carried themselves with a grace that one would liken to a crane, or the wind, and humans with a certain unrefined finesse, something that could not be polished to perfection because they were not quite as long lived. But if you were to steal a look at the Lady Silarin, you’d see that she moved with the fluidity of the flowing waters, but the danger, alertness, and willingness to lash out of a large graceful predator. This was something rarely seen in elves, for they were never eager to lash out, peace running strongly in their veins. So when she saw the confidence and poise in Halbarad’s movements, Silarin was not only surprised, but pleased.

Pleased that her traveling partner would be able to hold his own, and surprised to see a human so talented.

After several moments of awkward silence that comes with getting to know someone, Hal asked "How are your preparations coming, Milady? We leave the dawn after next - three days before the fellowship -, correct?"
((sorry brain fart...))

Nodding her head in agreement, Silarin led the way to the kitchens, having heard the slight protest of Halbarad's stomach. "Indeed young Master Halbarad, I am nearly set to venture out, however, something tells me that I shall require more herbs before leaving. So I am waiting for my friend Lord Glorfindel to bring me a larger pack with more healing supplies. And what of your own preparations young Master Halbarad? I hope you are finding everything to be acceptable?"

Halbarad nodded. "Yes, I am very close to being ready. I was just on my way to the kitchen to grab a small bite of food and then I shall return and finish my preparations. Perhaps you would join me, Milady?" and he gestured with his hand toward the kitchen. "I have several questions about the mission that I would like you opinion on."

Deciding to acquiesce to the Tower Guard's request, Silarin nodded and gestured for him to sit, as she quietly requested two meals of stew and a platter of breads and fruits be prepared for them. The cook, Elhadril smiled warmly at Silarin as an aunt would a niece, even though Silarin had once celebrated the cook's birth with her friends, the other she elf was much more maternal than Silarin thought she'd ever be.

"If you wish my opinion young master Halbarad, then speak and I shall answer as best I can," the silver eyed elf said gently as she sat down at the table, bearing two large mugs of a warm mead.

The knight greatfuly sipped the mead before beginning. "My first and foremost question pertains to our exact route. The Fellowship plans to follow the mountains south then cut through the gap of Rohan, is that not correct?"

At that point, Silarin withdrew a small map from a pouch at her side, it was not amazingly detailed, nor was it exactly accurate, but it did give a good sense of distance and direction to a traveler who spent long months on the road.

Carefully, she laid the thinning parchment out upon the table (it was old, older even than that one hobbit who had come through Imladris previously, and now resided there) and traced out their designated path with an elegant finger. "We shall indeed take their preordained path, through and over the mountains, re-supply at Lothlorien, follow the Anduin to West Emmet, and make a quick supply stop at a small village along the way, where we will meet up with my companion Holdred, who is currently caring for my mount Celegdae. From there we will travel east through Emyn Muil, and then cross Dagorlad, and south to Barad-dur."

Halbarad listened intently absorbing their route and mapping it his mind. "It sounds as acceptable as any. I still say it is madness to plan to go into Mordor. That hobbit has more conviction than many a knight." He paused taking a bite of bread and washing it down with another swig of mead. "Then this brings me to my second question: Are we taking mounts with us on this journey? I have brought my horse, Ohtar, with me as my companions and I rode from Gondor. He is a good steady horse and will be able to carry me as well as my supplies. I believe he can make the journey and would like to bring him unless you think otherwise."

There was a slight hint of anxiety in the knight's voice as he contemplated leaving his companion behind. He would very much like to bring him but at the same time, if Silarin thought it would be too dangerous a journey for a horse, he would rather leave Ohtar her, in Rivendel, than have harm befall him.

Silarin blinked, having not expected a Gondorian knight to care so deeply for their mount, centuries ago, this would not have surprised her, but as the day and age were, this was slightly unexpected.

"If we come across any hordes of Orcs, a horse would be a great asset, no, if you feel inclined to bring your Ohtar I shall not stop you. Now that you have brought that up, I will have to remind myself to borrow one of Lord Elrond's spare mounts," she muttered as she daintily bit into a rather plump plum.

The conversation continued in polite fashion as the two finished their food and drink. Halbarad then escorted Silarin back to her chambers before returning to his. The pair finished their preparations and were standing in the courtyard, ready to go, before dawn on they day they were to depart.

Fog still lay over the beautiful city, muffling any small noises begin made by stirring creatures. All elfs, men, dwarves, and halflings in the city were still asleep. All save for Halbarad, Silarin, and Elrond who was approaching the two from across the way.

For Silarin, this Journey would hopefully be her last, she was far too old, and lonely to make many more in her lifetime in Middle Earth. Her silver eyes watched Elrond approach as she gently patted the bay mare called Liuthien.

"Lady Silarin, Master Halbarad, a moment of your time before you set out," he called over to them softly.

Silarin bowed her head to Elrond, a show of formality to one who has seen almost as much as yourself. "Lord Elrond," she replied in her soft voice.

((K so before this we had Silarin saying something along the lines of "I'm SUPER old." And asked Hal bout if he has any dreams of the future.))

Halbarad bowed his head. "I am sorry to hear about your son. I can only imagine the pain. I have no children of my own. No family for that matter. My mother and father have both passed on and I have no wife. I would like to marry some day but I do not think it fair to marry and then leave ones wife to go to war." He paused, reflecting for a moment. "Once The Ring is destroyed and peace returns to our land I hope to find someone. That is assuming I do not die before peace can be restored."

As he spoke, his eyes constantly watched the tree line, watching for any movement that might suggest orcs - or worse.

Silarin smiled ruefully, as a hand went to brush fingertips lightly against the silver tiara that blessed her brow, with a single shining clear gem set in the middle. "Death will not come to you, I swear it upon the name of Eru, Master Halbarad, not if I cannot help it."

The horses plodded on for another heavy silence that lasted only a half an hour, before the caw of a crow echoed out above them.

Silarin sharply looked up and frowned, drawing her bow and a single arrow fletched with the feathers of a dove. "Scouts for Sauruman the White, we shall be found out before long if I let it fly on," and with that she drew back the bow string and took aim, letting fly the white fletched arrow swift and true, planting itself in a fatal embrace between the breast bone and heart of the bird.

The elder elf was silent for a short minute before she mounted her bow back upon her pack and motioned for Halbarad to follow. "There will be others, and our time will be cut short if we are found so soon. Let us hurry to the mountain's pass."

Edging Ohtar onward, Halbarad followed Silarin as their pace quickened. They rode on for a while longer in silence before Ohtar gave a whiny of protest and shook her main. Halbarad knew this to be a sign of protest. She was getting tired. Halbarad leaned down close to her neck, stroking her and whispered encouragements to her, "Just a whole long Ohtar. You can do it. It is very important that we keep moving." The horse responded with a sharp exhale as she continued to trot forward.

Luthien may have been an elvin horse, but a mountain horse she was not. The smooth ground of the forest soon turned to rough terrain of mountain as they drew closer to their destination, which did not sit well with the horse, who wanted to get through there as fast as possible and be done with it all. "Be at ease Luthien," Silarin whispered to the bay mare as she snorted and attempted to establish a faster pace, "We have others to keep in mind. I do not think Ohtar is an elvin horse, and she is carrying much more weight than yourself," her words were quiet and serene, helping to bring in the objectionable behavior of her lent mount.

"Master Halbarad, I know not if you are at ease with the cold of the snow, but near the very top of the trail we must pass there is a cave in which we can find refuge from both the scouts, and the wind. It will also allow our companions to rest, do you object to staying there?"

"No, it sounds as good a place as any to set camp for the night. How much longer of a ride would you say it is until we reach this cave? Ohtar hasn't seen this type of journey in a long while. She's already upset about the ride from Gondor so this new adventure is not pleasing to her." he said while stroking Ohtar's main as she tread easily (but not happily) over the rocky terrain.

"Judging by the distance we have already covered we should be an hour yet. The road leading us there is an easy one though, less of an incline and more snow to cushion their foot falls, so it should not stress them much more," Silarin said as her hand drew her bow forward to her, so that is was now resting across her lap, with one hand holding it, and the other guiding Luthien. "But we must be wary, for the scouts back at Imladris spoke of sightings of orcs in this frozen place."

Halbarad too reached into one of the packs on the side of Ohtar and drew his short bow. "I can't imagine why any creature would chose to live hear but I suppose if any did, it would be orcs."

Ohtar sensed when her master drew his bow and suddenly, she was no nonsense. Her senses heightened as she too began to search the road ahead for orcs. If she saw one she knew exactly how to respond. She had been through all too many drills with Halbarad to falter in anyway.

Halbarad's eyes again became critical, checking every disturbance, every drift of snow which had now begun to fall.

Silarin's eyes snapped to a crest, and with deft hands so quick that it was hard to trace, the bow was up and ready, and one of the white fletched arrows already flying swiftly through the air. Her right hand was already reaching for another arrow, and the arrow that was loosed had found it's home within the throat of a mountain orc. "Glamog," she called in Sindarin, as she watched a good sized horde rise over a peak of snow. "Glamhoth," she corrected herself, as she took down another orc that seemed to be one of the commanders.

Luthien, having been used to such a battle, easily kept her rider safe by dancing out of the way of the crude orc arrows that were starting to fall upon them, confident that they would make it out nearly unscathed.

Halbarad's own arrow left it's bow mere seconds after Silarins and it too found it's new home under the arm of an orc. Ohtar too aided in dodging haphazardly shot orc arrows. (Not too difficult for the well trained horse.) After picking off a few orcs with his bow, Halbarad gave Ohtar a small nudge in either side with his heels, a sign the horse knew meant they were going in. She waited to feel the bow get put back and as soon as she felt Halbarad pull out his lance, she made for the orcs, and fast.

While Silarin may have trusted Luthien to do what she was trained to do, she was not Celegdae, and therefore did not know how Silarin responded, or thought. So the noble elf placed the bow back upon her back and drew the twin swords upon her hips, they were slim and finely crafted, both sporting a frail looking guard of thin silvery metal shaped into a curving vine of ivy, clearly the work of a master dwarven smith. Swiftly, the elf dismounted the bay mare, issuing a firm command to stay before turning back to the horde and positioning herself between the horse and the orc.

"Tulo, orch, a belo o nim mab (Come, orc, and die by my hand)," she said clearly in sindarin, the wind not even hampering the distance her words traveled one bit, white cape flowing almost tauntingly in the same wind.

This had it's desired effect, as a good number charged towards the elf. She ducked and weaved, dodging haphazard swipes and lunges, and struck down a number of them, thrusting her thin blades deep into chests, temples, abdomens, and slicing unprotected joints and tendons when they were exposed.

It was like watching a macabre dance, as vengeance shone within those silver eyes, donning a feral grace to the elegant immortal.

Halbarad did not notice the elf as she exacted her revenge, he was focusing on jamming his spear through as many orc heads as possible and doing so while keeping Ohtar out of harm's way. It truly was odd, the bond he had with his horse. He had often laughed to himself as her though how he might be better suited being a Rohirrim. Many of his fellow knights often teased him similarly. But nonetheless, he remained firm in his loyalty to Gondor.

Ohtar danced around the orcs swords, kicking them if they got too close for comfort and all the while providing good angles for her knight. More and more orcs fell around the duo untill Ohtar was forced to move several feet to keep herself from falling on the dead bodies. The fighting continued until only five orcs were left. Halbarad's spear ran one through as Silarin's blades decapitated another. The remaining three decided they wanted nothing of the two travelers and turned tail to run. Swiftly, Halbarad thrust the spear into the ground and drew his bow, firing at one of the orcs who somehow managed to dodge. Again he pulled back and this time the arrow found the back of the orcs neck. It fell limp but it's companions continued to escape, not even stuttering at the fall of their fellow orc.

Silver eyes blazed with a smoldering rage as Silarin deftly stuck the tips of her swords into the snow and whistled for Luthien. From a small strap on the side of the saddle, she unclasped a long staff that curved slightly, ignoring the curios glance given to her by Halbarad. Luthien, having known what it was she was doing pranced nervously as Silarin strung the staff to create a longbow, and knocked two arrows simultaneously, taking aim carefully.

"Avon dabo cin edraith, (I will not allow you to escape)," she whispered darkly and let the arrows fly, eyes glittering with satisfaction when one fell dead when the arrow meant for him had hit it's mark between the neck and the head, and the other screeched as an arrow severed the lower half of his spine.

With an almost reluctant feeling to her movements, Silarin unstrung the bow and put it back where it belonged before cleaning her swords of the black blood of the orcs and placing them back within their hilts at either side of her hips. Her white cloak had miraculously come out with naught a single fleck of the vile blood, as well as the rest of her body, and it was often hypothesized by the other elves that she had very strong enchantments cast upon them by Mithrandir to protect the state of her clothes. Silarin would never truly divulge the secret to anyone, but Lord Elrond would tell any who would listen, that it was not Mithrandir, but Silarin herself who had both made and enchanted her armor, making the unfortunate elf the subject of many an elfling's bedtime story and legends (not that there were many elflings in this day and age as one hadn't been born for nearly 500 years) telling of the Lady Silarin and her grand adventures through Middle Earth through all three of the ages of time after leaving Varda.

Reaching down from Ohtar's back, Halbarad pulled his spear from the ground. He then bent down, patting Ohtar's neck, asking if she was alright. Once his post battle rituals were completed, he turned his attention to Silarin. "Are you alright, Milady? That was quite a shot, I must say." He didn't mention the fact that he had witnessed the look of dark joy the death of the orcs had brought to her face.

It was almost as though Silarin was knocked from a branch, as she realized that she had been traveling with Halbarad, and of course he would notice that she tended to fall under the thrall of a particularly strong emotion (in her case the need for vengance), as elves as old as she were wont to do. "Thank you Master Halbarad," she said softly, ignoring the bodies of the orcs around her feet.

For a few minutes she was silent, as she smoothed Luthien's frazzled nerves and checked over the horse, being careful to inspect every portion of her body for even the smallest of lacerations, for the orcs of the mountains were notorious for wielding tainted blades, with poison that could fell a strong man in mere hours. When she was satisfied with her search having produced nothing, she turned to Halbarad, but not quite met his eyes, and gestured for him to follow.

"Come, we must get to the cave before anymore of them start looking for us, the rest of the way is easier leading a horse, as there are many low overhangs that are troublesome to avoid while on the back of a mount."

Halbarad nodded, noticing this might not be the best time to speak. He gracefully dismounted Ohtar who gave a small snort at the loss of weight. Halbarad smiled and patted her back. Replacing his bow and spear in the holsters on Ohtar's side, he took hold of her reins and waited for Silarin to lead the way.

Silarin walked lead them off to the left, through a smaller path that would have gone unnoticed in the wind and snow. True to her word, low overhangs sheltered the path from the harsh winds, but would have been hard to navigate without receiving a concussion or two by the end of the trek.

At the end of the path was a large cavern, empty and a great deal warmer than outside, as a shelf of rock jutted out in such a way that it was protected from the elements as well as any who would search for the two.

One could tell that the cave was used regularly by the same group, as a large stack of firewood leaned up against the farthest wall towards the back of the cave, where a ring of rocks formed a pit to contain said fire. "The horses rest over in the area towards the western side of the cave, I have used this cavern before with others, and we saw fit to gather moss and the like to create a warm bedding for them, just don't let her eat it, there are sure to be toxic weeds mixed in with it."

As she spoke, Silarin began to unload the burden off of Luthien, as well as unsaddle the mare, so as to brush her down. When her task was done, the elf drew her cloak off of her body to lay it upon Luthien's.

" I will take the watch tonight," she called back softly to Halbarad as she leaned up against eastern wall of the entrance.

Softly, almost as though she did not realize it, she sang of the queen of the Valar, Elbereth, for whom Ilbareth was named after. The song was soft and haunting, her voice clear, lilting, and tremulous with a certain sense of loss, making her sorrow almost tangible in the cold air.

"Fanuilos, heryn aglar, Rin athar annun-aerath.
Calad ammen i reniar, mi' aladhremmin ennorath.
A Elbereth Gilthoniel,i chin athul lin miriel.
Fanuilos le linnathon, ne ndor haer thar i aearon.
A elin na gaim eglerib,ned in ben-anor trerennin
Si silivren ne phaerth waewib, cenim lyth thilyn thuiennin.
A Elbereth Gilthoniel, men echenim si derthiel.
Ne chaered hen nu'aladhath, ngilith or annun-aerath."
Snow White! Snow White! O Lady clear!
O Queen beyond the Western Seas! O Light to us that wander there Amid the world of woven trees! Gilthoniel! O Elbereth! Clear are thy eyes and bright is breath, Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee In a far land beyond the Sea! O Stars that in the Sunless Year With shining hand by thee were sown, In windy fields now bright and clear We see your silver blossom blown! O Elbereth Gilthoniel! We still remember, we who dwell In this far land beneath the trees, Thy starlight on the Western Seas.

As she sang, her thoughts ran rampant through her head, faces long gone, both dead and sailed on, flashed in her mind's eye. Why she had stayed this long was a mystery to her, but she could not bring herself to sail on just yet.

Halbarad did similarly to Ohtar, removing her burden, rubbing her down, and explaining the her bed was not to be eaten. Afterward she gratefully walked over to the moss and gently set herself down next to Luthien. He was about to protest Silarin taking the first watch but she had already made for the cave entrance and was starting her song so instead, he simply slid down against the back wall, listening to her voice. After she finished and Halbarad shook consciousness back into his head he gathered some of the wood from the cave and, piling it in the rock ring, started a fire going. It was not yet nightfall so they could risk the fire and he hoped the rock would warm itself enough to hold the heat overnight.

Once this task was done he took out his sleeping gear and prepared to rest for the night. He might have made some food if he was hungry but he found the days excitement had deprived him of hunger.

Looking back over her shoulder, Silarin called to Halbarad softly, so softly even, that it was nearly lost upon the winds, gentle as they were in the cavern. "Rest young master Halbarad. The road ahead is long yet, you needn't worry for me, I have gone many a night with not a wink of sleep to be had."

With that said, the elf turned her attention back to the entrance and once again began to sing, this time a tune that brought on a feeling of comfort and warmth. It was true, she was well aware of what an elf's voice did to mortals, but that was what she was counting on, for she did not wish for Halbarad to be fatigued the next day.


Halbarad lied down in his bedding and tried to sleep but none came until Silarin began to sing. Then he quickly sank into a deep, peaceful sleep.

For the rest of the night, Silarin sat in a light trance, silently watching the entrance for those who would threaten their mission, thinking of her past and the new age that was now upon them. The bright rays of the dawning sun crested the horizon and warmed her cheeks, when she finally spoke softly to herself. "Perhaps I shall watch this age of men, for the fellowship has two, a hidden King, and a servant who knows not that his king is before him...Yes, just this age, and I shall go."

With that said Silarin took a slightly concerned look to Halbarad before she gently awoke Luthien. "Tirinia Halbarad annin, Luthien,(watch over Halbarad for me, Luthien)" she whispered to the bay mare that was covered in her white cloak. The mare gave a quiet whinny of understanding and turned her head to the entrance to watch until Silarin returned.

Smiling, Silarin gave a fond caress to Luthien's mane, then walked out, intent on finding something nutritious to eat for breakfast. The idea of fruits was appealing, but far fetched, so Silarin set herself to finding roots and herbs that would grow upon the mountain tops.

Almost an hour later she returned, arms full of an assorted variety of plants. Depositing her load gently by the fire, so as not to wake the slumbering Halbarad, Silarin collected the empty pot near the wall and went to fill it with clean snow, when that was done, she gracefully walked over to the fire and put a new log in the pit before stoking the embers, calling upon the warmth of the fire to melt the pot of snow and boil some wild mountain vegetables with dried meat to create a simple stew.

Halbarad woke to the smell of food. Groggily, he tried to get his bearings. He could immediately tell he was not at home but it took him several seconds to recall the previous day's happenings. Once he remembered though, it explained why he was so very hungry now and slowly he sat up at looked around the cave, resting upon Silarin once he spotted her. (After checking that Ohtar was still there.)

"Good morning, Milady." he said, still blinking off the lingering effects of sleep.

Dipping her head in greeting, Silarin responded in kind, "Good morning to you as well young master Halbarad. I had assumed that you would be hungry so I have made a quick stew high in nutrients and energy rich food. Which reminds me...."

Tapering off, the (in disguise) high elf rose and went over to Luthien and gave her a fond caress. "Cingaro eglerionim, Luthien. (You have my thanks(in reference to watching over Halbarad)) Today shouldn't be so hard, and hopefully, we should make it to Lorien before long. For now, rest and regain your strength."

With that, Silarin walked back over to the fire and sat upon her unused bed roll (which was still rolled up), and took a sip from a previously empty bladder of water that she had filled just recently with melted snow.

Finally location the small pot from which the smell was coming from Halbarad's stomach gave a cheerful growl. "Yes, some food sounds wonderful. I'm afraid I didn't eat last night. I was simply too tired." Peering into the pot his eyebrows rose. "Milady, where did you find all this?"

Silarin gave a noncommittal shrug, "I ventured out a little ways while you were still asleep to gather them. Luthien watched over you in my absense. The mountain is kind to those who know her secrets," she said in an almost conspiratorial voice.

Having said her piece, Silarin dished out two bowls, one for Halbarad, and one for herself; holding out one of the bowls, she spoke again, "It's best to eat it while it's hot, cold food in the mountains tends to make one tired."

Nodding, Halbarad took the proffered bowl and ate the warm stew. It was very good. Better than anything he was ever able to prepare while traveling.

After he finished eating he decided it was a little too quiet so in an attempt to stir up some conversation he asked, "So you said we'll be able make it to Lothlorien by nightfall? I must admit, I have my doubts about that. Also, would it be wise to slow down some now so we don't get too far ahead of the Fellowship?"

Silarin, having finished her own shortly after Halbarad, closed her eyes as she imagined the roads spread out before her. "The fellowship's path will alter, this much I can see. After Lorien, our path will split from that of the fellowship. The lady of the Wood will show us our way, she has told me that much," the elf said calmly. "We shall have to slow while going down the slopes of the mountain, so it shall be two more nights yet before we reach the Golden wood...I fear the Fellowship will be delayed by the treacherous Maiar." As she finished speaking, she opened her eyes, revealing a great sadness within her silver irises.

Looking towards Halbarad, Silarin shook her head. "Already, it is too late for Mithrandir."

Halbarad looked confused. "Too late for Gandalf? Why? Has something happened to him?" Halbarad didn't understand what exactly Silarin was implying or, more accurately, didn't want to understand. He simply didn't know how anything could defeat a Maiar and if it did how exactly the rest of the fellowship could have possibly survived.

Shaking her head slightly, Silarin responded with a negative. "No harm has befallen him yet, but he will cease to be, Mithrandir. The gray wanderer. Only one I know can boast what Mithrandir will seek to do to insure the mission is carried out. Glorfindel, the balrog slayer...."

Going over to Luthien, Silarin brushed her borrowed mount, and re-tacked her, being sure to make sure that the saddle was sitting comfortably upon Luthien's back. While she did this, Luthien enjoyed a dried apple given to her by Silarin, so as to bribe the elvish horse to keep still while she repacked her supplies.

Halbarad followed Silarin's lead, packing his supplies back on Ohtar's sides after the saddle was in place. He continued the conversation, still not quite understanding. "A balrog? I have never heard of this creature before. How strong it must be to be a threat to Gandalf."

"Strong," Silarin said as she carefully re-strapped her long bow to the side of Luthien. "Lord Glorfindel slew a balrog to ensure the safety of Tuor and Idril, as well as their Son Earendil, who would later father Lord Elrond, however he had much difficulty with the fight, as well as much luck....Lord Glorfindel is one of the very first Eldar to have sailed over to this land. So for Mithrandir to take on one of the Balrogs...it is not an easy feat, even if he is the most skilled and wisest of the Maiar."

Halbarad continued to look confused. He was, after all, only a man. He still simply could not wrap his head around anything being more powerful than a Maiar but he said no more as he made his final preparations. Having made sure Ohtar had enough to eat, the two stood ready, waiting for Silarin to finish her last task.

Silarin finished putting out the fire and making sure that the cavern was in order (in case she ever had to use it once again) before leading Luthien, Ohtar, and Halbarad out to the main trail. It was quite amusing to her to watch the Gondorian Tower Guard have to trudge through the snow as she lightly stepped atop it. (Luthien seemed to sink slightly, but that was to be expected, with her additional weight and all)

"The trail down is easy, but long and winding and fraught with scouts of the witch king and Saruman. We must keep alert for these, for if they catch us, we are sure to find Uruk-hai upon our trail," Silarin warned softly as she deftly mounted Luthien and turned her towards the Golden Wood.

Halbarad nodded his understanding as he continued to plow a path through the snow for Ohtar to walk in. "Please, I have heard of the Uruk-hai, rumors mostly, but I still don't know very much. I have heard they are like orcs only bigger, stronger, smarter, and better armed. Can this be true?"

((Gosh! He is so ridiculously polite! >w< ))

Silarin nodded, face slipping into a cold stare towards the direction they were going, "They are all that you say, and they can function just as well in the daylight. To meet a horde of these....I would not wish it upon anyone. They are ruthless and efficient, and will not run away...Rumors tell of a special group within the Uruk-hai, beserkers...who will not back down and become more violent with more injuries."

Luthien, sensing her rider's sudden shift in mood, tossed her head agitatedly and sped up slightly, pausing to wait for Ohtar and Halbarad while stamping her front hooves in an antsy manner, almost as though she wished for the conversation topic to change.

Halbarad's somber expression changed when he saw Luthien's reaction. He gave a lighthearted laugh and reached up to pat the elven horse on the shoulder. "Then let us pray we should never come across any nor that the fellowship should either."

After this the conversation died down for a while as Halbarad had to put a significant amount of effort into trudging through the snow and making a path for Ohtar at the same time.

Silarin rolled her eyes and hopped off of Luthien's back. "You are going to tire yourself out before long, Luthien is very capable of carrying you without too much effort, let me lead Ohtar for a while," she said while offering Luthien's reins to Halbarad. And it was true, compared to Ohtar, Luthien was standing daintily above the snow, as was expected of an elven horse. "Well, go on then," she said while pushing the Gondorian tower guard over to her borrowed mount. "She won't bite, much, though she is fussy if you don't let her have her head in a run.."

Reluctantly Halbarad mounted Luthien. It was indeed impressive that the slender horse could bear his weight (armor and all) while also continuing to walk on top of the snow. He looked back and saw Silarin leading Ohtar out of the trench in the snow.

Clumsily the horse tried to walk on the snow as she saw her companion doing but time and time again her hooves fell through until she finally cried out to Halbarad and tried to pull her reigns from Silarin's hands.

Silarin let out a small sigh before she took Ohtar's head in her hands and whispered gently to the horse in Sindarin."Garo sidh, neth Ohtar.(have peace, young warrior), if it displeases you to walk upon the snow, I shall carve you a path instead."

And with that, she used her strong elven legs as well as her bow to make a furrow in the snow for Ohtar to follow. Silarin was suprisingly fast in her progress, ignoring the obviously disgruntled snort from Luthien as she spoke quietly to Ohtar in Sinarin of things they would see in the Golden Forest, even though the horse had not been exposed to the language extensively.

Halbarad couldn't help but notice the disgruntlement of both horses and after another five or so minutes he dismounted Luthien. "I appreciate the gesture, Milady. However, I don't think or mounts share my sentiment. Besides, you were the one who stayed up all night keeping watch. You ride, I will walk." He made his way back to Ohtar, stroking her neck as she snorted her residual anger at him.

Silarin did not argue, actually, she gave a light laugh as she noticed Luthien's antagonized stance. "Manen long e, Luthien, (How heavy was he)" she asked with a smile as she gently brushed out Luthien's mane from the saddle. The elven bay mare responded with a snort and tossed her graceful head almost in rebuttal.

Silarin did laugh at that, a melodious laugh that seemed to lighten everything. "Laturo garo taria, Luthien,( It can't have been that difficult)" she said between laughs.

Luthien snorted and tossed her head again, high stepping in place as she waited for Halbarad to catch up before prancing ahead once again.

Ohtar shook her head forward so the reigns were easily grabbed by Halbarad. He smiled shaking his head at the brown horse. "So moody, Tary, but thank you" She gave a small snort, this one much more affectionate. Halbarad then turned and began again forging a path through the snow after Silarin.

They walked on for several more hours then Halbarad again broke the silence. "How much longer until we are out of the mountains, Milady? I must admit, the cold is starting to get to me." This was, in fact, the understatement of the age. He could hardly feel his fingers or toes anymore and it was taking all his effort to not shiver - not in front of Silarin. Ohtar too was feeling the chill of the mountains and had once or twice stopped dead in her track in protest to the temperature.

"Cast your gaze downwards, young master Halbarad, and you can see that the snow thins out just a few dozen yards away, and as you well know, after that, there is rock and plain, then we shall reach the forest," Silarin said as she gestured out towards the short amount of flatland that stretched before giving into the golden forest of Lothlorien.

"If it suits you, we can stop shortly after the snow halts to locate a sheltered place to rest for lunch," Silarin added as she adjusted her sleeves so that they were now closed and keeping her body heat within, and not letting it out.

Halbarad was grateful to hear these words and more grateful when the end of the snow came into sight.

Once they reached the edge of the snow a while later, the pair stopped. Halbarad checked Ohtar over, making sure she had not gotten too cold or gotten any cuts from anything. He also gave her a brief rub down as thanks for her putting up with the bit of the journey. He looked out over the plain they had to cross to the golden woods. He had heard of them but never seen them before. Their name almost didn't do them justice.

As they approached the foothills, Halbarad again looked up toward their destination. He stopped and squinted, confirming what he saw. It was 8 figures, 3 tall, 5 short, sprinting across the plains as if their life depended on it. Halting Ohtar, Halbarad called to Silarin, directing her attention to the small figures in the distance.

Silarin too noticed the figures, but they were clearer to her elven eyes, and it was obvious to her that this was the Fellowship (minus Mithrandir, just as Lady Galadriel has predicted, and even if she knew he was to fall, she still could not feel a pang of remorse at his death), running, from what? She did not know. But then, looking towards the direction that they came from, so too did she see the many goblins behind the Fellowship. Silver eyes widening in horrific surprise. "Goblins...If we dally, that horde will catch up with us, and though strong we may be, immortal we are not."

Luthien began to get antsy, knowing that the was a large number of enemies, larger than any company she'd ever seen, and began to paw the ground restlessly as Silarin prepared her bow and arrows in the event that she would need them.

Urging Luthien into a quick canter, she called to Halbarad. "Follow me, do not slow, do not look back, and most importantly, do not hesitate," with that, she let Luthien rear, giving her no resistance, allowing the elven horse to show just why they were a step above the rest.

Halbarad nodded digging his heals into Ohtar's side. She instantly sprang into a gallop but it was true, she was no match for the elven horse and had to break into a harder run to keep pace.

Halbarad reached down with a free hand and undid the clasp that kept his bow in place, not drawing it but readying it just in case.

Since the duo (quartet really) was not running at a straight line, but rather a diagonal one, laws of the world stated that they would meet the very front line of the pursuing goblins.

Silarin, being well versed in the art of horseback archery, easily picked off the forerunners, sometimes with a single arrow singing through three goblins before it found it's final home in the face of a fourth. Looking towards her back, she saw that Ohtar and Halbarad were having slight trouble keeping up, so she reined in Luthien just enough to allow the two to catch up and keep up. Of course, Luthien did not appreciate that, and showed her agitation with a loud bray of argument.

Once they caught up, Halbarad drew his bow and he too began firing into the mass of goblins. He was not as good at it as Silarin but that wasn't to say he was bad. He was, after all, a tower guard. He had to be well versed in almost every kind of combat. Also, the throng of perusing goblins was so thick it would have been hard to not hit one. All the while Ohtar did her part, providing Halbarad with angles, keeping out of the goblins' range, while keeping pace - to some extent - with Luthien.

In no time the entire front line of the attacking goblin force had been wiped out, having been caught unaware. The remaining goblins were so shocked by this unexpected attack that many of them fell back into Moria. The remaining smaller group chased the pair to the edge of the woods, Silarin and Halbarad firing on them all the while.
Ko:
“Good morning, young master Halbarad,” Silarin greeted with quiet, placing her pack upon the stone floor and taking a roughly hewn stone pot from a nook towards the back. For a few minutes, she disappeared out into the snow again, before coming back with a pot of pristine snow. Setting about her task, the she elf cut and diced the various plant matter while the pot of snow slowly melted and heated above a small, yet very hot pit of embers and fire. Soon, the cave was filled with an herbaceous scent. The smell of the mountain herbs being cooked was savory, yet tinged with promises of tang and sweet succulence. “I hope you don’t mind an herbavor’s breakfast, young master, but at this time of the year, the rams and their harems have traveled much deeper into the mountains. And the rabbits do not venture out until nearly noon.”

Su:
Halbarad, who had woken somewhat more from the smell of the food, shook his head.

"No, no. This is fine. And I assume it is more than we will have the luxury of in the coming months." he said with a smile.

He stood up and began doing his morning stretches. Once he had completed them he felt significantly more awake. That, and breakfast was also ready. Silarin scooped him some into a bowl that matched the pot and handed him a matching spoon as well before serving herself. He nodded his thanks before beginning to spoon the still very hot broth into his mouth. It was surprisingly good for having no meat in it. The elves could indeed cook.

Silarin seemed pensive for a few moments before nodding.
"That may indeed be true. Our supplies should be rationed carefully, for not all of the land is so kind as these mountains and their surrounding forests...The plains ahead will be a harsh trip, as very little water falls there, and the rivers either hide deep below or flow much too stagnantly to be of any use without first killing the sickness within."

Her silvery eyes glimmered in the morning light as she frowned out at the snowy landscape. "I have a terrible feeling that our intended course shall fall away all too soon. I dislike diverging from course...it always leads towards death," the elf whispered solemnly, hand coming up to rest upon the center of her chest, almost as though fending off a pain that reside there. With a small sigh she tore her eyes from the front of the cave and turned back towards her food, eating slowly, mulling over her thoughts as she sipped the warm broth of nutritious herbs.

Halbarad paused and looked up from his bowl. He heard much sadness in the elf's voice. More than he cared to hear. "I'm sure our path will remain safe. At least as long as we travel through safe lands such as Rohan and Gondor."

((my brain...it died. Sorry.))


The she-elf closed her eyes and sighed, "One may only hope, Master Halbarad...one may only hope."

With those words Silarin rose and 'scrubbed' out her bowl with fresh snow just outside of the cave's entrance. Her movements, though still graceful, were weary. Almost as though the noble immortal knew what would soon transpire. The heartbreak that was to come. The lives that would be lost. For what? For one man- no, monster's conquest, for the evil of this world that wished for nothing more than death and war. Silarin's silver eyes narrowed in hatred as her thoughts wandered towards the vile creatures that had been responsible for a majority, if not all, of her losses.

Luthien sensed her temporary rider's anger and anxiety, and rose from her bedding, giving a soft whinny, beseeching the elf to once again saddle up and be off. Silarin went over to the mare and ran her hand gently over the long muzzle, uttering soft words in Sindarin, "Dínen, Luthien, dínen." (Quiet Luthien, quiet.) Soon enough, she was once more brushing down the mare, taking comfort in the physical labor that had quickly quieted her morbid thoughts.

Halbarad finished his breakfast in a mood dampened somewhat by his concern for his companion.

After a quick brush down of Ohtar and repacking the nights supplies, the two left the relative comfort and safety of the cave and began the long trek down the opposite side of the mountain.

Silarin nodded, at Halbarad, holding the eager Luthien firmly by her reins as the mare constantly shifted and pulled at them, snorting when she found little slack. The elfin mount was obviously eager to be off the mountain and in the plains or forests. The wind shifted suddenly, as though preparing for a great maelstrom. Silarin peered to the east with a frown, “Such sudden shifting of the winds does not bode well for us...”

Pulling her long bow from Luthien’s side, the elf tied her mount’s reins to her belt, allowing for a good deal of distance between the two just in case, before walking out into the snow, purposely digging a trough wide enough for a horse to walk within. She continued in this fashion for a few minutes before looking back towards her traveling companion.

"It would be best lead our companions down the mountain side, while Luthien may be able to spring lightly upon the snow, neither yourself nor Ohtar are capable of such. But we must make it halfway down the mountain before the dead of night, or we will be without shelter in the coming blizzard, so I shall aid you, though you may still have to clear and pack the snow a bit more, as neither of us are as heavy as you two,” the last part was said in good humor, obviously her attempt at trying to set the human male at ease.

Halbarad smiled and even laughed slightly. “In that case you should go in front of me, Ohtar. You’ll pack the snow better than I could.” The horse snorted at the suggestion that she was fat and brushed her head playfully against Halbarad’s shoulder. “Steady. I wasn’t being serious.”

They continued on through the snow and increasingly aggressive wind. Halbarad did have to work to widen and pack the snow trench despite the elf’s best efforts. He took extra care in padding down the ground, creating a smooth, clear path for Ohtar. They progressed further and further down the mountain and with each step, Halbarad could see the storm clouds drawing closer and could feel the wind getting colder.

Soon, soft flakes of snow began to fall from the sky, mixing with the wind to become biting points of cold where ever they landed. Silarin, fearing more for the ones behind her, set upon her task with more determination and speed, barely feeling the warmth of the bright sun upon her skin through the harsh winds and snow.

If this was only the beginning of the blizzard, the Fellowship would never make it over the mountain, should it endure more than a day. It was odd though, such a storm never formed until later in the year, when the winds from the cold north blew the rain clouds down south. So caught up in her thoughts was Silarin, that she barely caught Luthien’s alarmed shriek above the wind.

Turning swiftly, Silarin cursed herself for not being more aware of her environment as she scanned the wind swept mountain-side for what could have spooked the battle hardened mare. And not even inches from her side, did she see the end of a crude arrow sticking into the snow. Silver eyes sharpened as her brain processed the ramifications, she knew those arrows, and had the wind not been as strong as it was, she’d probably find herself with an unpleasant hole in her arm.

“Master Halbarad, I hope I do not have to tell you this, but I do believe that we are about to engage in a battle,” she called glibly towards the Gondorian Tower Guard as she loosely knocked an arrow in preparation for what must be the rest of the horde they had seen the other day.
Upon hearing the alarm of Silarin’s horse, Halbarad had drawn his bow and was already reaching for an arrow to notch in it when Silarin spoke.

“Ohtar, stay back. You can’t help in this fight.” He ordered and the horse obeyed, walking cautiously toward Luthien. Halbarad stood next to Silarin, his eyes searching the near blizzard conditions in search of the orcs.

“I see nothing.” He said. “Orcs shouldn’t be that difficult to spot but the snow…”
Last post from both of us:

Luthien kept the fast and hard pace, as was expected of her, and she knew the roads to the Golden wood, far better than the man and his own horse. So with an urgent whicker, she pulled up ahead of the other, and galloped back onto the trail that would lead them to the sanctuary of Lothlorien. Every few minutes she would lessen her pace just enough to come side by side with Ohtar, to keep an eye on her rider, as soon as she saw that her rider was indeed still among the living, she would again surge to the front and continue to lead them further into the forest.

As the long minutes passed Silarin seemed to fall deeper into her healing trance, but at the same time, did not close her eyes to surrender to sleep. A small part of her knew that to do that, was to surrender to death, but she was questioning why she kept her grip on this world, when so much had been taken already from her. But something kept pulling her back, a warmth at her back, keeping her from slipping into that dark beyond of death.

Soon the trees, which had been so close together that it appeared as though it was impossible to pass at times, began to grow thicker, but further apart. And the leaves all became golden in their canopy. It was at that moment that the first elves could be sensed, running with the two horses, using the branches as launch points to follow them.

Halbarad tensed upon sensing movement around him, subconsciously tightening his grip on Silarin, but Ohtar continued to follow Luthien, trusting that the horse would not lead her rider into any danger.

As they continued to ride on, Halbarad pulled his worried eyes off the elf to notice the change in surroundings. Within the last minute, they had moved from a dense forest to an almost clearing filled with huge trees that seemed to have building intertwined around them. Luthien slowed her pace and Ohtar followed suit. Eventually they came to a stop. Halbarad moved his hand from the reins to his sword hilt, the other arm remaining around the wounded elf.

The first elf to step forward was, of course, the march warden, as he had been the closest and in charge of the security of the forest.

“Your hasty entrance leaves much to be questioned, young gondorian, however, those will have to wait,” the golden haired elf said softly as he noticed the state Silarin was in. Turning to a slimly built elf with hair the color of bronze, the march warden issued quiet commands in quickly spoken elvish, the slim elf nodded once before literally disappearing into the trees, so fast was his pace. A few more elves stepped forwards, giving soft reassurances to both horses, though Ohtar more so than Luthien, who seemed to be at ease with all of the elves, almost as though she knew them. A female, with blue gray eyes, like the storm clouds reflected in deep waters, spoke this time. “Come, we shall take her to the other healers, hurry now, time is of the utmost importance,” she spoke with authority, and it was clear that this woman was a healer, as she held her arms out to take the limp figure of the poisoned Silarin from the Gondorian knight. She was burning with fever, and her eyes fluttered between concious thought and dream. Apparently she was in the throughs of a rather unpleasant one, as she cringed away from the slightest brush of touch.

“Ilbareth,” said elf choked out, a pathetic and sad sound, as her normal graceful voice was brought to such weakness. The healer frowned softly, “already the delirious fever has set in, we must hurry if we are to save her.”

Halbarad reluctantly relinquished the wounded elf. He still didn't trust the other elves but knew that Silarin needed help and he could not provide it. With a quick pat and word of praise to Ohtar he followed after the elf who was carrying Silarin. His hand no longer hovered over his sword but to say his guard was down by any measure would be very inaccurate.

Halbarad followed close on the heels of the elven healer. His eyes constantly shifting from Silarin to the many other inhabitants of the woods. Finally they entered a room and the healer placed Silarin gently on a bed. Halbarad looked to the healer who had already begun preparing something. "Will she be all right?"

The first, the female, hesitated, instead inspecting the arrow and the surrounding wound. “It did not pierce anything vital, however it did manage to cut open a few of the thicker blood vessels, you were wise to leave the arrow in it’s place, it is not only barbed, but it has been staunching the flow of blood, saving her from bleeding out much sooner had you pulled it out, giving us precious time. The poison is strong though. And fast acting. We will not know the true extent of the damage until we have looked further.” With a morbid ease that clearly showed this was not the first time she had seen this, Elfaer cut off the feathered bit of the shaft and cleaned it of the black blood that had speckled it.

The female elf looked up to the male healer, “Nestadel, help me turn her, and pull up the back of her vestments. We shall have to push the arrow completely through before we can put any salve on it. Here, hold her like so, and put this bit of cloth in her mouth, yes just like so, there’s no need for her to bite through her tongue after all that our young knight here has done to get her this far.”

Nestadel nodded, pulling the shivering form of Silarin to him so that the extraction could be done as swiftly as possible. “On your mark then, Elfaer,” he nodded to his partner, whom had taken a firm hold of the bottom of the arrow’s shaft.
“Hold her shoulder’s tight, that’s good enough, ready, Nele!” The last word was a sharp command in Sindar, as the woman gave a firm harsh push to the arrow, driving it out the other side of Silarin’s body. The younger healer, Nestadel held Silarin as she reacted violently to the sudden pain, back arching as though to escape from the agony, screaming as the arrow burst through even through the bit in her mouth, the muscles around her jaw clearly showing that she was indeed biting down on it as hard as she could. The male elf held her still as Elfaer just as quickly pulled the remainder through, holding up the viciously barbed, red stained blue-silver arrowhead. “Mithril coated iron. I should have suspected as much...Lady Silarin is not easily felled by arrows of steel and iron,” she muttered darkly as she began to dress the wound with the appropriate salves and bandages.

Halbarad worriedly watched the events before him. He had seen this style of arrow removal before from various field medics but it was always on solders, fellow knights, men. To see the frail form of the female elf go through the same pain made the man wince visibly.

As they proceeded to tend to Silarin, Halbarad slowly began to relax his guard. He realized these were her fellow elves. They could be trusted. As his defenses lowered, his posture relaxed but only partially. He was still tense and nervous with worry for his companion.

Exhausted and utterly spent, Silarin finally allowed her body to fall into the arms of a very deep, healing sleep, and it was immediately apparent as her body relaxed completely on the soft bed. Her normally healthy pallor, a tanned peach with a rosy hue beneath, was gone, in it’s place a pallid and cold tone, almost like cold marble. Indeed she was shivering, as though exposed to the harshest winds and rain, but the slight gloss of sweat told of a fever raging through her, despite her cold appearance.

“You needn’t worry so, young master. She will live, if only to spite the orch that put the arrow in her,” came the calm voice of the march warden. “I have only heard of the Lady Silarin, but I know that she will live through this.”

Halbarad turned from the slumbering figure to face the elf that had just spoke. "Thank you," he said with another look over his shoulder at the wounded elf. Again facing the march warden he spoke, carefully choosing his words. "Forgive me if I sound rude but, where am I and who are all you? Silarin's horse, Luthien, guided us here and I am grateful but, where is here?"

Blinking, almost as though in surprise, he responded, “Ah, I had forgotten my manners; it is I that must be forgiven for my rudeness. I am Haldir, the March Warden of Lothlorien, and you young Knight, are currently within the healing halls in the heart of the golden wood. You are amongst friends, rest assured. You are in one of the last retreats of the Elves, this is Lorien, and we have been expecting your arrival...Though I must admit, we were expecting something, well, less dramatic?” The golden haired elf chuckled to himself, as he recalled the confusion of his scouts when they reported what looked to be a riderless horse chasing what they could only guess was a Gondorian Knight and his steed. And then the report had suddenly shifted, as the Knight was now chasing after the horse, who would fall back every few minutes to check on what appeared to be an injured elf in his arms.

Halbarad bowed his head to the elf. "I am Halbarad, Knight of Gondor. I would say well met March Warden Haldir but," again he glanced over his shoulder at Silarin. His gaze lingered this time as he noticed for the first time just how pale she was. "She will be alright?" he asked in a voice that came out a bit more worried than he intended.

Haldir shook his head, “It is not my place to say. I am no healer, but if what I’ve heard of the Lady is true, then I can assure you that she will pull through this.” The March Warden placed a comforting hand on the Knight’s shoulder, offering a solemn smile. “And even if you cannot believe in that, then believe in her. It is a little known fact amongst the humans that elves rely heavily upon the strength around them,” he said softly before walking away, his footsteps on the white floors making just a whisper as he disappeared behind another corridor.

Halbarad watched Haldir leave the room, still trying to digest what exactly what the elf had just said. Several moments later his eyes searched the room until the landed on a chair. He grabbed the chair and dragged it over next to he bed before sitting on it. "I cannot complete this mission without your aid, milady. You must pull through. I know you have the strength. I know you will survive." The words were spoken more as a whisper, a secret message to the elf.

For several hours, Halbarad watched vigilantly over the slumbering elf. But eventually his weariness caught up with him and he leaned forward, resting his head near Silarin's arm on the bed. Moments later, he was asleep.

Poison was no stranger to Silarin, indeed, she had been rushed from the field to Imladris (where she stayed for the harsher winter months if nothing pressing had her attention) on multiple occasions, and this was the third time that Nestadel and Elfaer had to treat her for the poison of the mountain orcs. Of course, the first two times had not been quite as bad because she had only suffered a slight graze and had been very close to the borders of the Golden Wood on both occurrences. So it came with little surprise when she found every muscle in her body aching as she pulled her mind back into the realm of the waking.

Her vision was blurry, but only just so, enough to tell her that she had spent more than just a few hours in the walking dreams of the elves. The faintly luminescent white of the ceiling told her she was in Lorien, the first of the three havens of the elves, located in deep in the heart of the Golden woods. Slowly she inhaled, flinching just a little as the bandages pulled painfully against her wound when she drew in air. The heavy scent of a broth of healing herbs told her they must have been coaxing her body into taking in the warm liquids to aid with the healing process.

Belatedly she realized from her position in the soft, warm bed, that she had absolutely no idea of the time, nor the date, information she usually never had wrong and always kept track of. “How long,” she whispered to herself. “How long did I spend in the sad haze of my past?”

Below the chamber that held the slumbering knight and the waking elf Ohtar stood. The horse had been taken and tended too as the elf was healed. The elves gave the horse food and water as well as a thorough brush down. After that they had tried to escort her into a separate area but the strong willed gondorian war horse had other ideas. Even Luthien had tried to calm the horse, leading by example as she walked into the stables, demonstrating there was no danger there. But still Ohtar wanted nothing of it.

After about 20 minutes of battling with the horse, the elves had relinquished, allowing the horse to return to the building she knew her partner to reside in. Just as he was watching over the elf, she was watching over him as best she could.

Silver eyes wandered across the ceiling, before she belatedly realized there was a weight at her arm that shouldn’t have been there. With great difficulty, Silarin pulled herself up, into a half sitting, half lying down, position, using the pillows to prop herself up. She was very pleased to note that her traveling clothes, had been changed in favor of a soft silken dress of deep blue, the color associated with healing. (Though her traveling garments had been comfortable and warm, they had also been soaked through with her blood) Finally looking down at where she had perceived the foreign weight to be, Silarin was shocked to say the least. Laying there, asleep, was Halbarad.

Those silver eyes softened as a thankful smile came upon her face as she realized just how she had come to rest within the halls of Lorien, and why she was not wandering the abyss of death. Reaching out, she moved a strand of hair away from his face. “You do realize you know, that now I shall not be so easily rid of, for I owe you my life,” she said quietly to the slumbering Knight, hesitating only slightly before combing her fingers through his hair fondly. “Thank you,” Silarin whispered, voice thick with the effort to keep the despair and gratitude at bay. “For lending me your strength. Truly, I would have given up, had you not been here.”

Halbarad distantly felt a soft hand running through his hair and gentle words of whispered thanks. Slowly the knight came out his slumber. The hand combing his hair felt so calming so soothing. He allowed it to continue for several more seconds under the pretense that he was still asleep then he slowly lifted his head.

He looked over Silarin before he spoke. She still looked pale and Halbarad could tell each breath was pained despite the elf's beast efforts to hide the fact. "Silarin," he said softly.

For a few moments he searched for words but found none. He still felt guilty. He should have been there, she was supposed to protect her. He had failed. "Milady, how do you feel?" he asked timidly.

Having felt him shift beneath her fingers, Silarin had pulled her hand away, offering a thankful smile to Halbarad as he shifted his attention to her. Then an amused laugh escaped her throat as he had used her name only to go back to referring to her as ‘Milady’. “I am alive, Master Halbarad, and happy for it, though I do wish you would stop referring to me as such, as I said before, I dislike such titles, and would rather you view me as an equal.” Here, she paused, eyes clouding over with thought before she glanced back up towards the Knight intent on making him aware of just how grateful she was. “Truly, I owe you so much for saving me, not just from my injuries, but from despair as well. And Ohtar as well of course,” she said with a smile towards the window, where she could just barely hear the sound of the horse over the soft mournful song of the elves, which had started just few minutes prior. The silent seconds passed with a heavy air, and Silarin, who knew not what else she could say, attempted to rise from the bed, in order to head to the arched frame of the window, which led out to a small balcony. “Ah, if they are singing already, it must be nightfall...How long have I been a bed?”

Halbarad quickly but gently put a firm hand on her shoulder. "You should still try to stay still," he said, fighting off the impulse to add "Milady" to the end of the sentence. "That arrow..." he paused. "I didn't think we would make it in time. I thought...I thought I had failed." As he spoke the last word he raised his head and eyes to look over Silarin's shoulder, an action bred into him by years of training. When he failed he was told not to hang his head. This was not the way of the knight. On the same token, he was never able to look his superiors in the eye when reporting his short comings. Instead, he always averted his gaze, feeling unworthy of meeting their eyes. This is what he did now.

Shaking her head, Silarin offered a smile, as she stood her ground, not willing to stay in the confines of a bed, she was an elf, she needed to feel the wind upon her face and see the treetops shimmering with starlight. “But you did make it, and what is this about failing Master Halbarad? This mission is to scout the path of the fellowship, so as to ease their hardships. You knew as well as I the dangers we faced...Back upon the mountain, when we were trapped within those blinding winds, I knew what I had to do to insure your life, and I took the course of action that had the highest guarantee of you living.” Silver eyes searched imploringly, almost as though wondering why he would ever have believed to have nearly failed. “You are alive and well Master Halbarad, that alone would have been worth my efforts. But you also saved my own life even though I had very nearly thrown it away. Nothing was lost.”

Just as stubborn and determined as his elf counterpart, Halbarad's hand remained on Silarin's shoulder. Now his head did fall. "Yes, Milady," he said as he would have addressed a superior officer. He wanted to argue further. He wanted her to see what he had meant. That he had failed in protecting her. But just as it would have been inappropriate to say such things to a commander, he felt it would also be so for the elf. He knew she was right. The mission would have continued. But still he felt guilty.

The submissive acquiescence to her words brought a frown to Silarin’s face, as well as the stubborn refusal to let her move about (never mind the fact that she basically had an arrow sized hole in her side). She had watched his movements and posture, and knew him to be just as sure of his beliefs as she, so had therefore expected much more of a debate from the Gondorian Knight. “Master Halbarad,” she said with a sad frown, quiet, so much so that it went unheard to even her ears above the slowly rising volume of the Elven choir. Then with a stronger voice, while reaching out to guide his face upwards, she spoke again. “Master Halbarad, there is little I have not seen in this world, and the bravery of humans never ceases to amaze and confuse me. However, I must wonder why you have suddenly lost yours? And in the face of a wounded elf none the less.”


The submissive acquiescence to her words brought a frown to Silarin’s face, as well as the stubborn refusal to let her move about (never mind the fact that she basically had an arrow sized hole in her side). She had watched his movements and posture, and knew him to be just as sure of his beliefs as she, so had therefore expected much more of a debate from the Gondorian Knight. “Master Halbarad,” she said with a sad frown, quiet, so much so that it went unheard to even her ears above the slowly rising volume of the Elven choir. Then with a stronger voice, while reaching out to guide his face upwards, she spoke again. “Master Halbarad, there is little I have not seen in this world, and the bravery of humans never ceases to amaze and confuse me. However, I must wonder why you have suddenly lost yours? And in the face of a wounded elf none the less.”


Silarin did something most elves would never do, she rolled her eyes. “This behavior does not suit you, young master, and the mood in this room has suddenly grown rather depressing.” Gently she removed his hand from her shoulder, before giving an apologetic smile, stepping away and turning towards the door, she walked out while pacing her steps. Every other step, a small wince could be seen in her face, but she held her head proud and tall, like she was not bothered by the injury at all.

Once at the end of the hall, she had to take a very slow, very deep, very deliberate breath in. In fact, she had to focus solely upon her breathing in favor of ignoring the sharp pain that would lance through her injured side, all the way up to the junction of her neck and shoulder, down to the very tips of her toes. In, out, in, out, in ignore the pain, out don’t scream, in, out.

Halbarad stood in the room for a moment before following the elf out into the hallway. He remained behind her but never more than two paces. He saw the barely hidden twinge of pain that accompanied every other step the elf took and, while he was reluctant to again protest Silarin's movement, he was not going to leave her.

No. He had done that once. He would not do it again. "Milady?" he spoke softly. "Where are you going?" he asked genuinely.

A glance was thrown back at Halbarad, but the elf was very careful not to twist her body at all, if only to save herself from having to deal with the pain that would result from undoubtedly stressing and thereby opening the twin wounds once again. “I’m going towards the choir of course,” she responded as though the answer were the most obvious thing in the world. Turning towards the left path, the path facing east, Silarin once more set off in her slow pace. “Their songs will help to ease your mental strife, or at least that is what I am hoping for,” she murmured, barely heard above the beautiful voices of the singing elves.

Every few steps, Silarin would pause only for a short moment, as her right hand would come up to ghost upon the area of her wound, and she would close her eyes and purse her lips, before snapping back to the task at hand, continuing onwards, letting her hand fall back to their natural position.

Halbarad said nothing, simply continuing to follow Silarin. Every time she paused he would extend his arm, letting it hover an inch away from her back, there to support her if needed, but trying very hard not to imply that she needed it.

As they exited the building, Halbarad was greeted by Ohtar's nose in his face. He smiled, a small chuckle even escaping his lips. "Yes, yes," he cooed, stroking the horses nose and side. "You did very well. She is safe," he said with a glance toward the elf. Then in a softer voice he added, "Thank you, my friend." Ohtar snorted her response before turning and making her way to the stable. Now she would go.

Halbarad quickly caught up with Silarin and resumed his trail of the wounded elf. As he followed her, he allowed his mind to wonder as his ears were soothed by the melodious voices of the singing elves. "What are they saying?" he asked almost absentmindedly.

Silarin paused to listen, before a sad smile graced her face. “They sing of the Queen of the Valar, Elbereth, she is the one to place the stars within the sky, bringing us light during the darkness. I sang a similar song while we were within the cave atop the mountains. This however, is much shorter, much more of a mournful sound, telling all who will listen of how she lights the way for those of us that wander in these lands.”

Tired as she was, Silarin continued onwards, occasionally translating a phrase or verse she thought would strike Halbarad, whom she knew was behind her whenever she paused, ready to lend his support.

Halbarad continued to follow Silarin, his eyes constantly watching for an signs that the elf was tiring. He said nothing, instead, he listened intently to the translations Silarin was giving, taking them all to heart.

After some time, mostly because Silarin’s current walking pace was far slower than she’d like to admit, they finally arrived upon a large gondola where the singers were practicing. They weren’t a large group, but it soon became apparent to any who watched that they weren’t alone, when they sang many of the other elves whom were in the forest would join in, lending their beautiful voices in to help weave the song into a true masterpiece. Silarin, not feeling up to singing, led Halbarad to a bench. “Listen to them, Master Halbarad, they sing of the cruelties of this world, but there is always a light. A reason to go on,” she said softly to her companion, silver eyes glimmering in the glowing light emanating from the very walls.

The songs went on for some time, as elves rarely needed to sleep, but Silarin was well and deep in a healing sleep long before Haldir had happened upon the small niche she had claimed. “Ah, Master Halbarad, I was hoping to run across you. The healers inform me that Lady Silarin is no longer in her room, and I-“ Haldir paused as his eyes traveled from the young gondorian’s face to the resting elf, leaning against the wall. “It seems their worries were uncalled for,” he said with a calm smile. “The Lady Silarin is safe and well it appears, though I think she would much rather find herself waking in a bed, rather than asleep out on a veranda, do you not agree?”

Halbarad smiled and nodded. "I completely agree. I tried to get her to remain in bed but," he gave the sleeping elf a fond look, "she's quite stubborn." Cautiously, almost afraid to wake her, Halbarad snuck his arms under the lithe frame of the elf and lifted her. Her sleeping head fell against his chest and the knight couldn't keep a warm smile from his face. She was safe.

Slightly embarrassed, Halbarad turned to Haldir. "Uhm...I'm afraid...I wasn't paying attention on our walk here. My mind was occupied by...other things," he said with a glance at the elf in his arms. "Could you show me the way back to Milady's chambers?"

The March Warden nodded agreeably. “That will not be a problem at all. Please follow me,” he said as he turned to lead Halbarad and his charge back to her room. The walk was surprisingly short, now that they did not stop every few minutes and their pace was quite a bit faster than before. “You of course have a room as well, it is right across the hall. The stables where your respective mounts are, are located just north west of here. You’ll find your mare in the first stable as you enter from the southern doors. I must say that our hands had quite a time with her,” Haldir said with almost a chuckle. “Quite stubborn that one, not unlike her Lady.” Silarin, almost as though in response to their talk, frowned lightly in her sleep. “I wish you a good rest Master Halbarad,” Haldir said with a bow before walking away, once again nearly silent in his retreat.

Silarin, having woke half way through Haldir’s farewell, found herself in an odd situation, being carried was very unfamiliar territory. Not wanting to be rude, nor to seem ungrateful, she stayed quiet. Mostly because she was in pain, and partially because she was at a loss of what to say.

Halbarad watched Haldir leave before ever so gently setting Silarin down on the bed. Then he quietly made his way to the door, pausing just inside the room. He turned and looked over his shoulder at the healing elf and then at the chair that still sat next to the bed.

He rolled his eyes at himself, wondering what exactly he was doing before he walked to the chair and slumped down in it, firmly intent on keeping vigil over Silarin and not dozing off as he had done before.

Silarin looked over to Halbarad, frowning when he appeared as though he was going to stay in the room. “Master Halbarad,” she called softly, voice slightly muffled through her sleepy haze. “You should rest as well. It will do neither of us any good if neither of us is well in the morning.”

Halbarad looked up at the familiar voice. "I know, Milady. But I have a feeling that if I leave, you'll try to run off again. And if you keep doing that you'll never recover properly." He smirked then added almost playfully, "And that wouldn't be good for the mission."

The she-elf blinked in surprise, before realizing that he was joking with her about the last part, mostly. “Ah well, I promise not to move from this forsaken bed until well into the morning if it would help at all. It isn’t as though I could do much any way, I find myself alarmingly tired, and I’m sure that you are not very much better off.”

A soft smile spread across Halbarad's lips and he nodded his head. "I did rest some earlier, before you woke, but I will admit, a bed of my own sounds tempting." He let his gaze drift out the door across the hallway to the bed in the room. It did indeed look soft and warm and comforting and all too inviting but he bit the inside of his bottom lip and shook his head slightly, mentally arguing with himself.

After several seconds of silence he looked back to Silarin and continued. "No, Milady. I will stay here and watch over you." Then a bit more quietly he added, "I almost lost you once; I will not be derelict in my duties again."


Silarin chuckled, a low and soft noise that was both comforted and amused, as she propped herself up on the pillows once again. “There are no dangers in these halls Master Halbarad, please, do not feel obligated to watch over me, it is both unnecessary and unwise. You require rest just as much as I.” The circlet at her brow glinting off the low light of the single candle at the side of her bed.

Halbarad's brow furrowed and his eyes grew distant and glazed as he pondered Silarin's words. Finally, with one last look up to the elf, the knight finally relented. He gave a combination nod and bow of his head before he stood and exited the room without saying a word.

As he entered the room across the hall, "his room", he noticed his armor had been cleaned and placed on the long table at the foot of his bed along with his sword, bow and quiver. He climbed into the bed, finding it exactly as comfortable and inviting as it had looked. Despite what Silarin had said, Halbarad was hell-bent on not actually sleeping. However, as soon as he slipped under the covers, his weariness washed over him and mere seconds later, he was fast asleep.

Using her excellent hearing, Silarin listened for the slowed rhythmic breathing that denoted sleep in her companion, she knew he had fallen fast asleep soon after he had crawled into the soft bed. “Sleep well,” she said as she slipped off her circlet, as was her tradition when she truly slept, and placed it upon the small wooden table, just besides the candle. She didn’t bother blowing it out, for as soon as she dropped off into dreams, Nestadel had come along and blown it out for her. He carefully checked the bandages at her side before nodding to himself, pleased that her wounds had not reopened in her wanderings. The healer then tucked Silarin in, taking care to make sure there was no way she could reopen her wounds should she shift in her sleep. He closed the door as he left, before doing the same for the Gondorian Knight. Though the man was not wounded, Nestadel wanted to insure that he attain the most from a good night’s sleep.

Silarin was still asleep when the sun rose, and Elfaer checked in on her. The female healer swiftly changed the bandages and herbal poultice dressing her wounds before, just as Nestadel had some hours before, tucking the slumbering elf in. She placed a small kettle atop a stand and relit the candle beneath it, with a cup just off to the side. “You already know the drill milady, one cup of the herbal tea upon waking,” Elfaer said fondly before softly closing the door and leaving silently.

Halbarad, too, slept long hours after the sun rose. When he did finally wake he felt amazingly refreshed. After the first few moments of waking up and frantically trying to remember where he was, Halbarad's minds was filled with one thought. The fact that he had failed. He had fallen asleep.

He cursed under his breath before tossing the covers off and silently making his way into Silarin's room. He quietly opened the door, closing it behind him before he slunk into his chair.


Waking came slowly to Silarin, she was enjoying the comfortable warmth of her bed, the soft embrace of the pillows and blanket, the fact that her hair was no longer bound back by the circlet and was allowed to flow as it willed. But the sudden noise of another person moving about roused her from the idle state of rest she had been enjoying, and Silarin found herself joining the waking world. “Good morning Master Halbarad, I trust you had a comfortable and energizing rest,” she said as she slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, leaning back against the cool wood of the bed’s head board. “You must forgive me for tricking you to bed last night, but it was very hard to miss the tired look in your eyes.”

Halbarad opened his mouth to speak but faltered when he realized exactly what Silarin had said. A slight blush crept over the knight's face and he looked away for a second. He awkwardly cleared his throat before he finally looked back up at the elf. He had to fight off the temptation to tease the elf about the slip of the tongue, instead calling upon the knight training within him as he had done the previous evening.

"I will admit, that bed was amazing and judging by how long I slept, I needed it. But how are you feeling today, Milady?" he asked, forcing his tone to be purely professional.

Silarin smiled that gentle elfin smile, the one that made their eyes sparkle and the room light up with their grace. “I am feeling incredibly better off than before, and I still must reiterate how thankful I am for your help the other day.” Then she giggled, no, more like chuckled. “And I must thank you for putting up with my stubborn need to be up and about, though I fear that my wanderings will not be allowed this day. Not after last night, and certainly not with Healers Elfaer and Nestadel keeping sharp eyes on my bed chambers since the breaking of dawn.”

As though to prove it so, Elfaer quietly poked her head in and nodded to herself, “Please drink your tea my Lady Silarin. The Lady Galadriel wishes to meet with you in the morrow, and I’ll sail to the undying lands and back if I can’t restore you to at least half of your capacity before then.”

Silarin laughed once again, “It shall be as you command my Lady Healer.” Then conspiratorially, though very audible to Elfaer she whispered to Halbarad. “She’s actually very intimidating despite her short stature, though she does have quite a bit of patience, all of it seems to disappear when dealing with unruly patients.”


Halbarad tried to hide his laugh for Elfaer's sake but a small chuckle still managed to escape his lips.

He then noticed that Silarin had made no movement to drink her herbal tea so once the healer had disappeared again around the corner her gestured to it. "You should drink your tea, milady. If for no other reason then to not become one of those unruly patients." He added the last bit with a smile, showing that no harm was meant by the light jib.

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully with Halbarad keeping a strict watch over the recovering elf. When night time came, Halbarad once again steadfastly refused to leave Silarin's bedside, arguing that one night of rest in a real bed was more than enough and more than he would have in the coming months. After another light argument, the two finally both fell asleep and in no time, the sun was again rising over the elven wood.

Silarin was up with the sun, carefully rising from bed just as Nestadel brought another kettle and cup. This time though, Silarin gratefully thanked the male healer and took the cup of hot tea from him drinking it surprisingly quickly before putting it down and sitting atop the bed once again, allowing Nestadel to change her bandages and apply more medication to her wound. Though only two days had passed since the poisoned arrow had been forced from her body one could see that she was truly doing much better.

Silarin, with help from Elfaer donned a deep ash dress that was simple in design, both to help keep any unnecessary pressure off the wound, and to ease her limited range of movement due to her over taxed muscles. Pausing at Halbarad’s door, she knocked lightly, but still the sound reverberated through the halls.

“Master Halbarad, do you wish to accompany me to meet with The Lady Queen or shall you be meeting with her alone?”

Not but a second after the knock, Halbarad opened the door, already fully clothed, armored, and ready to appear before the queen of these woods.

“I’ve been up a while already. Performing my morning routine,” he explained upon seeing the slightly perplexed look on Silarin’s face. “I would like to come with you, milady.”