There were no weapons to be found in Caras Galadhon, it was a place of light and peace and while sentries stood at the Lady's service there was no glint of steel nor rattle of armour.
Fairlain wished to try the glorious new bow that had been given to her, but was at a loss as where to do that. There were beasts in Lothlorien, but not all were for hunting...indeed there were many, especially the young and helpless, that fell under Lady Galadriel's protection. It was then that she met a young (if it possible to call one of the Eldar "young") elf named Nimrandir who offered to take her to the borders beyond the Nimrodel. It was his duty to walk through the woodlands and take measure of the Golden Wood to see if there was aught that troubled it. This "Glade-walker" bore a special love for wood, field and stream and was able to pass through them as one whose heart beat with the same rhythm as the earth's.
Nimrandir was pleasant company, and as they walked out of the gates of the city, he and Fairlain chatted happily about the day, his duties, and what might be happening at the border camps. Fairlain's spoken elvish was improving daily...she had always had a remarkably quick ear for language...but the flowing lines of the Tengwar script baffled her. More often than not when she was trying to decipher a written page she would be gently told that she was holding it upside-down. As they approached a more thickly wooded area, Nimrandir held up his hand in a gesture that asked for silence.
"I must ask and listen for the answer," he said in a hushed whisper.
Stepping up to one of the stately Mallorns with utter silence, the elf placed a respectful and gentle hand upon the bark of the tree and leaned his ear close to the mighty trunk. In the quietest of voices he murmured a few words and then fell silent, listening intently. Fairlain waited, and after a moment or two Nimrandir stepped back and, bowing his head, said
"Le hannon, mellon..."
There was concern in the young elf's eyes as he turned to Fairlain.
"More yrch have come down from the mountains. The defenses of Echad Andestel have become more active. I believe we should head there."
Fairlain agreed, and as they went Nimrandir explained some of the woodcraft that he used.
"Shadows are never to be feared...they are servants of the light, and can be put to good service. If you step from one to the other, you will never be seen by unsuspecting eyes."
He flashed a mischievous grin.
"Of course, there are those like the lady Gladaewen for whom there is only the light, and she will call it from the high heavens with unabashed joy, not caring who sees...or hears."
They reached the top of the knoll that looked down upon the encampment. There were lines of tents and cooking fires along the rivers, and armoured elves moved about them with purpose. To one side was a training area with targets and scarecrows. There was one elf who stood quietly holding a sword in front of three mannequins....she paused a moment, then with a graceful movement of her feet sent the shining blade flashing as she twirled around like Luthien dancing in the twilight. When she came to rest the targets lay in shreds on the ground, and Fairlain was a little shocked and surprised to recognize the grey elf they had just spoken of. Gladaewen walked to meet the pair as they approached, smiling a familiar greeting to Fairlain.
"You have come to test your bow, then? It will be welcome here."
She turned to Nimrandir and gave him a polite bow.
"I trust the woodlands rest peacefully?" The Glade-walker gave a small bow of respect and assent.
The Woodlark looked down at the blade and her cheeks reddened slightly with...embarrassment?
"It is crude, but useful at times. I think the Lady may have another task for me soon." She glanced behind her.
"Come further in...at least take some refreshment before you seek out more adventure..."
The three turned and began to walk towards the main encampment and from a nearby hillock the warden Orophin watched the group proceed on their way.
