Lothlorien, 4 and a half years ago
Two Elves sat on a high flet in Caras Galadhon, sipping red wine and looking out over the city of trees below.
The taller one, whose copper hair shone in the evening sunlight, turned to her dark-headed companion. “Lothuialwen, I have begun to think far more seriously of sailing West. I have lived on these shores a long time and I am ready to leave the war and fighting behind.”
Lothuialwen’s eyes widened and she sat in shocked silence for long minutes before she spoke again. “I know you have lived far longer than I, Mallossel, and I cannot blame you. But… I wish you would not. I cannot leave yet and I will miss you very much.”
“You shall live well enough without me, I believe. Please understand this is not an easy decision, nor one I make lightly. But I weary of these lands, even on the best days, and I am no longer the warrior I was.”
The other elleth did not argue further, continuing only to sip her wine.
The sun set and they returned to their separate lodgings in a deep silence, and one at least wept herself to sleep.
Some months later, the taller embraced the shorter before she hoisted her pack and began her journey Westward, and Lothuialwen returned to her duties on watch with a heavy heart.
Lothlorien, 3 years ago
Malleth and Lothuialwen sat to one side of the large open garden as their kindred danced and sang and ate, watching the festivities of the Elven feast.
Loth’s mother nudged her. “Why not join them? You will never make more friends if you remain in mourning for Mallossel. I know her leaving was painful, but you must move on and there are many you could find friends in if you try.”
“I suppose I can.” With a reluctant sigh, she dragged herself to her feet and moved towards one of the tables piled high with Elven delicacies, where several of the other Marchwardens had gathered in animated conversation.
As she approached, one taller ellon turned toward her. “Lothuialwen! We were just speaking of that host that came through not too long hence. One of them used to be a Warden here!”
A cold finger of foreboding touched her heart. “What host?”
“The Host Palantine, they are called.” The answer came from one of the newer Wardens, whose name Loth could not quite remember. Her bright grin fit the day but not the dark emptiness growing in Loth’s heart.
The circle of Elves opened and she stepped in to join the group fully. “Yes, Hiril Mallossel was once a member of their ranks. Whence did they come? What news did they bring?”
“Mallossel! Yes, she was with them.” The first speaker-- Maethon, if she recalled the name correctly -- squinted as if focusing on the memory. “They were going to battle in the East.”
“Foolish enough, I would say.” The older elleth looked disdainful. “In a hurry to die for no reason, and based on the number that returned, plenty enough of them did.”
“Was…” Loth hesitated, afraid to even ask the question. “Was Hiril Mallossel one of those who returned?”
Maethon gave a sympathetic look. “Nay, she was not. The leader of the Host, one Cardanith, said she had fallen last to save the rest. He spoke of her bravery though. She certainly represented us well.”
The world spun and Loth turned without answering, stumbling back to where Melleth sat. When she reached her, she collapsed in her mother’s arms and sobbed.
“She did not sail.” A choked sob escaped her. “Mallossel… She left and now she is dead.”
Eventually she dried her tears and stood, turning to walk home. “That Cardanith has a lot to answer for.”
“Iell nin… please do not do anything rash…”
“Not rash…”
Lothlorien, a year ago
Haldir’s crossed arms and stern expression belied the worry in his eyes as he looked at his most troublesome Marchwarden.
“Lothuialwen… you have often clashed with superiors over orders and tactics, but this recent behavior is beyond unacceptable. Many of the other leaders are seeking your removal. Give me even one reason I should not.
She crossed her arms and tried to look defiant but could not hide her fear completely. “My behavior has been unacceptable, yes. But I have served well. Would it not make more sense to… to send me out to serve away from Lothlorien for a time as… punishment?”
His eyes narrowed. “You wish to leave?”
“I will take whatever demotion is deemed just but I only ask to be allowed to continue in my service in time.”
“Speak truth or do not speak.” His tone grew even more stern.
She fidgetted, weighing her options for a moment. Finally she relented. “I need answers about Hiril Mallossel’s… death. But I do not wish to be removed from my duty. I hoped… I hoped I could get some sort of reassignment that would allow me to seek such answers but still serve my home.”
He sighed in frustration. “You should have sought such instead of attempting to force my hand. But very well. You shall serve in exile from Lorien as a messenger for Lord Elrond for the time of a year by the reckoning of the sun. When you return at the end of that time, you may be reinstated, though your rank upon reinstatement will depend greatly on those whose orders you have been flaunting.”
“Thank you, Lord Haldir!”
“Go now, Lothuialwen. I am not certain this shall seem a mercy before it is ended."
