It was early morning, perhaps two or three hours after midnight. The sparkling night sky emitted a sense of happiness and comfort, both Garethred and Rildheldiel grateful for this as they both had their reasons to shed tears of grief.
The path they took led them around the Falathlorn neighbourhoods and at one point they were closer to Garethred’s manor than he had originally planned. It was then when he stopped for a moment and absently stared at the road for a good few seconds before headshaking his thoughts away, trying not to show his terrible shock. For he at last realized that his beloved ‘Morhíril’ lies there - in their manor - and that it was him who left her there with Avalanche, who can take care of a superior being just as good as of himself.
“How could you have not know, Nareloth?”
“I have absolutely no idea, Rildheldiel,” he answered, not remembering his daydream. “I really do not know. I am a fool.”
“Such things do happen. Trouble not yourself.”
“I… know. You are right. Nothing I did during the time of my ignorance affected my love for Muiliel, and I know she is safe, for I can sense it.”
But despite he did try to look convinced, he could not hide his fears entirely. They were, however, still under control.
“Earlier you said you were exiled. Híril Rildheldiel, tell me, how could that happen?.” He asked her both out of interest and actual keenness to change the topic.
“Yes, I was sentenced to exile for unacceptable behaviour.”
“Unacceptable behaviour? I find that hard to believe!”
Rildheldiel told him a story of her exaggerated reaction to being called a traitor by another maid – as she was being trained in the arts of war as an addition to her daily courtesy. She did not bear this offense lightly and one night she cut the maid’s hair off, which would obviously be seen as overreacting. This is what Garethred has been told, however, and it may not be entirely precise.
He grinned and shook his head in an amused disbelief.
“You actually cut her hair off?” A chuckle paused his sentence. “That certainly –was- harsh. If I had encountered a situation such as this, I would backfire with same intensity. I would simply spy back on her, possibly uncovering suspicious truth about –her- for a change. And if she really was –that- rude as you say, I would have doubts about her purity in the first place.”
“I did what I deemed right, Nareloth. She deserved more than that for what she did. And I could not insult her back, surely I do not have to tell you why.”
“So do you not regret your reaction?”
“Not at all.”
Rildheldiel did notice his hidden sorrow, so she approached him with warm calmness in her voice.
“I could come and visit her with you.”
Garethred dropped his head. “I would be glad for that to be possible, Rildheldiel, but... she was banished from all Eldari realms while we were separated. And I feel their compassion for her fades together with our hope. Of all the Eldar, only Lord Elrond took care of her at times I could not. But even he does not wish for Imladris to suffer from her presence. She is... very powerful. So do not be offended, híril, for I appreciate your offer. But she might not be as welcoming. It is for the best if I arrived alone.”
“Of course, Nareloth! It was a simple offer.”
Garethred dropped his head even lower and closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands that were cold of grief and anger. Anybody would notice there is more to it than he says.
“Nareloth…” She sat closer and comforted him a bit, the cool breeze of her touch swaying through his brown hair. He sobbed.
“She is… she is… haunted. Haunted with shadows. The Sorcerer of Minas Morgul assaulted her mind good few months ago and we are unable to fight back. At first I didn’t expect his power would reach all the way to Falathlorn, but this is more than just a confirmation. I have tried everything… EVERYTHING… But…”
Rildheldiel sighed, now realizing the source of his mind absence.
Garethred raised his head and stared at the clear lake which magically mirrored the night sky in such a way that one would barely recognize the image from reality.
“There is yet one thing I have not tried. I will face The Witch-King in the most difficult battle I have and will have fought. For what holds more value than love? My physical existence certainly not. And what I say, I also mean.” He slowly got up and stared at the opposite cliff which roared upon them from a spectacular height, again falling into deep thoughts.
Rildheldiel also got up and followed his gaze. “He cannot be killed by a living man, but you are more than that. If you really are as kindhearted as to make such decision, know that we trust in you.” She took off her pendant, Gwil-el-Elbereth, and offered it to him. “Take this, for it shall lighten up your path and give you hope even there where you would else find none.”
Garethred looked down at the brilliant necklace and shook his head. “No… no. I cannot take something I do not deserve. Besides, I shall rather wear the necklace my beloved gave me.” He smiled and gently moved her hand away in rejection. But she insisted.
“But you can still carry it, Nareloth. Take it.” She opened her hand and offered it to him again.
“What if I fall? Then this necklace might be lost forever.”
“Believe in yourself and your beloved, and you shall not fall.”
“Then I won’t fall,” he answered with regained courage and a proud expression on his kind-looking face. “Either he will die, or nobody will. You shall have your pendant back in no time, I promise. Hannon le, Rildheldiel!
The dawn came over them and the gleaming night sky turned into a mixture of red and orange, engulfing the brave warrior in an aura of strength and pride.
“New day, new quest. The way of things never changes for me.”
“Take care, Nareloth. What you are about to accomplish will bring you unmatched fame and glory, but never forget its true purpose and we shall never forget you. Namärie!”
“Your kind words have brought me new hope. You will not be forgotten, either. Namärie, Rildheldiel!”
Garethred turned and slowly walked off, his steps light as a feather, yet they carried a destiny heavier than one would assume this former Rohirric villager to posses.
“May Tulkas watch over you,” she quietly added, watching him as he mounted Malheru and headed off north – to Sarngarth, to his Manor, to Muiliel and their mutual fate.
What a battalion of men would not willingly face, I have sought to hunt down. For love is a feeling that motivates you over any other - it helps to ease your burden. And those who say that power lies in numbers have never truly loved. What a battalion of unloving men would not overcome, one loving man will face with perpetual endurance and a glad smirk.
What a battalion of men would not willingly face, I have sought to hunt down. For love is a feeling that motivates you over any other - it helps to ease your burden. And those who say that power lies in numbers have never truly loved. What a battalion of unloving men would not overcome, one loving man will face with perpetual endurance and a glad smirk.
- Garethred
