A steady, gray rain fell over Ost Galadh. The relentless downpour seemed to make the night darker, the air of Mirkwood fouler as Xandarian sat listening to the worthy of the Malledhrim discuss tactics, arguing in polite but caustic tones.
She pulled her rich green cloak tighter about her shoulders, the edges adorned with signs and symbols making clear it was a gift from King Elessar himself to a champion of Gondor. Near to her left hand sat the golden-haired Cyndwin of Westfold, her locks tied into a tight braid against the weather as she sat listlessly repairing her armor, ignoring the arguing elves.
The Elleth huntress took a moment to watch her, concerned, noticing the far away look that still graced her pale eyes. Ever since they had beheld the first green hills of Rohan in the distance the Shieldmaiden's thoughts, and heart, had been there, preparing herself to confront her family at long last.
Xanderian sighed softly...also preparing for that day fast approaching in anticipation, but fearing it as well. Once she was amongst her own kind again, once her name had been cleared of the foul crime she was accused of, who knows what affect would be wrought on the young Shieldmaiden's heart and plans. Perhaps in that moment...everything would change. Could Xanderian, she of so many names and titles, so many lifetimes, bear to lose another loved one to fate with so many wounds still fresh? And not just a loved one....Cyndwin, her Aza? Her one?
The huntress looked away...unable to face the answer to that question, but knowing she would do whatever Cyndwin needed her to do, whatever the cost.
A voice cut through the sound of the rain. Fuirgam, the leader of the Malledhrim in Ost Galadh had raised his tone. "And what says the representative of the Host of the West? What does the famed Nightwind and her...companion...think of our plans."
Xanderian felt her eye grow colder, knowing full well her Dunedain name was being used as an insult. She raised her voice to match the Captain's tone, affecting the same haughty drawl fashionable in Lothlorien. "I do not think of them, sirrah. I am here to give what aid I can to yet another assault on the stronghold of our foe, but all of this, and the lives you throw against it's basalt walls, are simply a diversion. The war will not be won here so I care little for what you do. Your tactics matter not to the King...so they matter not to me."
Cyndwin snorted softly at the jibe...reaching out to grip the elleth's hand. By the very blase tone of her words, the Shieldmaiden knew how upset and put out her love was. She knew Xanderian hated being amongst the Noldor at the best of times, even as her rank and honors with the King of the West protected her from their open scorn and demands.
With a grumble, the Malledhrim went back to their bickering. Fuirgam could have easily taken pointed offense to the tone of the Sindar waif...but opted not to. He knew full well that should Ost Galadh come under counter attack, the huntress would be sorely needed as would her lateborn friend.
Gripping Cyndwin's hand, Xanderian drew her cloak tighter, Heartbreaker humming moodily across her back, and would have moved away to share a late supper with the woman...but she was stopped by Toriel's hand on her shoulder. The mistress of the local stable was an old friend...and Xanderian embraced her as such.
"It is good to see you returned friend Toriel. How fared your post riding?"
The older Elleth smiled. "Much news from distant places, and vital orders from the Lord and Lady of Light...however that is not why I have sought you out. I was stopped in the hamlet called Bree by a portly fellow, the local innkeeper, who noted my livery and asked if I knew by chance the Huntress Xan. I knew at once he meant you and said that I did and would no doubt see you again soon under arms in Mirkwood with Gloriol."
Xanderian smiled as she used the name the Malledhrim had taken to using for Cyndwin..."Like unto Gold". "And what did old Barli wish? I had settled up my account with him before departing this last time again yet he is ever a nuisance. If it is about how Nob came to be found in a horse trough with his undergarments upon his head, I am sure I would have no idea what occured."
Cyndwin began to laugh, remembering something...then quickly grew quiet again.
"Nay...." Toriel seemed a bit confused and troubled by this talk of halfling dogsbodies and undergarments. "He told me a letter had arrived for you."
Xanderian grimaced. "No doubt another complaining missive from my sister, demanding I come to watch her lop off troll limbs. I truly cannot be bothered with such matters now, we will travel into Rohan in a fortnight."
Toriel brightened. "Your sister? When did the Banshee learn to write? Nay, it is not from her...he said it was from some old comrade of yours, a maid of Gondor. A craftswoman of some sort. Fil-something."
Cyndwin's eyes grew wide and she started, her heart leaping. Ever seeing the bright side, she would have cried out in joy but she stilled herself as she saw how pale with fright Xanderian had become.
"Fillegedhiel....sweet Elbereth let her not be in danger anew, or worse let her father not have found her..please have I not given enough to purchase her life from shadow and ill chance...friend Toriel where is this letter, please tell me it is not at the Prancing Pony!!!"
The elleth stable master shook her head, drawing out a crumpled bit of parchment. "Nay...I have it here. He had thought to simply have me inform you of it, but it was of no matter to spirit it out of his pouch. Why should you need return to such a dismal, depressing place for a simple letter?"
With a cry Xanderian grabbed the letter and turned away, carefully reading the hurried scrawl as Cyndwin practically hopped from foot to foot in anxiety. "What says it my elf love? Is she well...has something happened? Tellll mmmeeeeee."
The huntress looked up, the letter falling limply from her stunned hand to be washed away by the rainwater. Her eyes seemed to glow in a sudden shaft of moonlight as the clouds broke for a moment. "He is dead....her father is dead. The doom she feared is no more. She journeys from the Dwarven lands back to Bree with Haywood...in search of us. She says she hopes we have not grown to hate her, or worse, forgotten her. Fille is coming home my beloved...she is coming back...she is coming back to us..."
Tears ran down the elleth's alabaster cheeks as Cyndwin let forth the whoop of joy that she had controlled before, startling Fuirgam's council. The huntress returned her attention to Toriel breathlessly, her eyes wild with urgency.
"We travel to Bree, dismal though it be...we shall need two fast horses. Our sister is returning to us and I do not wish her to find herself unawaited.
