It was true that orcs in great numbers were once again coming down from the Red Pass. Fairlain and the Glade-walker, Nimrandir, decided to stay at Echad Andestel and help as they could. There was none who could move more silently than Nimrandir and he proved an invaluable scout, giving precise locations and numbers so that the wardens of the Golden Wood could cleanse the borders of this infestation.
Fairlain found good use for the beautiful bow of the Galadhrim she had been given, and the sentries of the Nimrodel welcomed her skills. They treated her as a comrade and showing her the manner in which they fletched arrows so they would fly even farther than thought possible. The lady Gladaewen stayed in the camp as well, though she did not join the patrols that daily ventured out. Rather she stayed behind and lent her healing skills to any that might be hurt in the ensuing battles.
On this day, a small troop of archers moved silently along the river bank. Nimrandir had told them of an encampment of orcs hidden in the rocky hills, and Orophin, brother of Haldir, led the archers...Fairlain among them...to the poorly hidden gathering of rude shelters. Silently, at Orophin's command each bowman spread out until the monsters were surrounded, yet it would not be a simple ambush. The terrain was difficult. Behind the main camp lay a stony hillside, and there was no telling whether more enemies lurked in the shadows there. It was possible there were hidden outposts, but even so the first step would be to cleanse this stain upon the mountain's feet. The word was given, and a shower of arrows flew through the air to find their marks below, yet it was not enough for the orcs were many. Orophin and five others rushed forward, blades drawn, to engage the monsters that remained and hold them while the archers nocked their arrows for a second volley. The arrows flew once more, and the numbers of the enemy lessened even more. Then the worst happened.
From the rocks above poured heavily armed orcs, descending with strength upon the half dozen elvish warriors that fought below. Worse still, there were archers among the enemy intent on wreaking the same destruction that had felled their comrades. The arrows of the elves were quickly turned to the flood of swordsmen rushing down the hillside, hoping to lessen it before it reached Orophin and his fighters. Fairlain quickly saw that three archers remained behind, their arrows trained upon the elves' commander. Reaching behind her, almost without thinking, she drew three arrows from her quiver, threading them through her fingers-a Dalish hunter's trick. Quicker than thought she let each arrow fly...one for each of the deadly bowmen...and one by one each fell. The Galadhrim sentry to her left gave her an approving nod as he set yet another arrow in defense of those who fought below. One volley and then another, and yet the wardens of Lothlorien held the line. Then...it was done.
They made their way slowly back to Echad Andestel, for those that had met the enemy face to face did not escape hurt and injury. The lady Gladaewen met them along with others who had healing skills, and those that were hurt were quickly tended. Seeing blood upon Orophin's sleeve and tunic, the Woodlark stretched out her hand to lend aid but Orophin drew back and without a word turned and walked away from her. Fairlain saw this, but said nothing.
Later, around the warmth and light of the evening fires, the elves shared a meal and listened as songs and tales were offered to the company. Fairlain ate with the others, but sat in thoughtful silence only half-listening to the tale that was being told. Nimrandir came and sat beside her. Quietly whispering, he said to her...
"It is said that long ago the Lady Gladaewen looked upon Orophin brother of Haldir and loved him, but when she offered him her heart he refused it. Perhaps that explains the thoughts that take you far from us tonight?"
Fairlain looked at Nimrandir a moment, then biting her lip nodded very slightly. She looked at the fire where the elvish bowman was finishing his tale.
"The fire needs more wood...I will fetch it." And she rose and walked to the place where more kindling was kept.
As she balanced a second log in her arms, she heard a voice from the shadows. It was Orophin.
"I am told I owe you thanks", he said stepping closer, " I knew that bow was well given." He smiled.
In the distance, the Lady Gladaewen began to sing and the elvish faces around the fire softened with the familiarity and beauty of it.
A Elbereth Gilthoniel
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aear, sí nef aearon!
A Elbereth Gilthoniel
o menel palan-diriel,
le nallon sí di'nguruthos!
A tiro nin, Fanuilos!*
Orophin paused a moment, then as the song came to an end he gave Fairlain another respectful nod and turned to walk away. Pausing a moment, he said over his shoulder
"How can one not love the light?" and then walked into the darkness.
* J.R.R. Tolkien The Fellowship of the Ring "Many Meetings"
