My heart was lightened when Estarfin pushed open the double doors to the outside world. The exit from Moria had been on my mind. I could remember the entry password, a simple utterance of the word ‘friend’, but I could not recall one for departing.
‘That is because the doors just open,’ I had told myself. ‘The Dwarves needed defense from outside invasion, not their own kind leaving the place.’ But still I wondered. What if a group of malcontents had got in some way, and were running away with arms full of Dwarven-crafted goods? That made me smile a little, despite our situation. As if such would happen! Dwarves were very protective of what was theirs; they had only grown to trust our Mirdan slowly, over more than fifty years.
But regardless of my musings, the doors were open, and out we walked: four disheveled, bedraggled Elves leading their horses.
I thought then that I would never take a horse through Moria again. I would not set foot in Moria after what we had just endured, so it would not be an issue. To watch the horses shake their heads, and snort and tremble and stamp their hooves as if wondering where in Arda they were, I knew such darkness was not for them. I was thankful we had Swan-Hoof, Norlome and Pelorian, all very experienced in travelling where we asked them, and able to stand firm when they knew not what lurked ahead. They steadied the mood of Marawendi’s grey pony and even Marawendi herself.
‘Never again,’ I muttered under my breath, but as I drew in the outside air, I coughed. It was misty, heavy and dank, laced with the unpleasant odor of stagnant, scum-encrusted water. The horses could not drink there. I shivered, as a ripple moved across the nearby pool.
“Let us ride swiftly,” I said, looking to the others in turn, as I mounted up on Pelorian. “I know, I know, something is very wrong,” I whispered to her.
An unexpected sense of dread chilled my heart. I looked to Estarfin, astride Norlome. She was restless, most eager to be away from that place. His expression was uneasy, as his eyes searched the water for movement. I believe he sensed it too.
“We ride to green grass and clear streams,” said Parnard, as he urged Marawendi to her mount.
For a moment his clear voice carried on the breeze, breaking my stupor. I nudged Pelorian forward. The others followed, picking their way round the edge of the pool with caution.
“Do not get too near the water.” I gave a clear warning.
Parnard turned round in his saddle. “Come away,” he urged Marawendi, whose slow pony was dawdling rather close to the water’s edge.
And we all picked up the pace as we rode out of the rocky area and down a short cleft in the surrounding hills. The further from that pool, the happier I felt, that I wondered what horror may lurk therein? But our path was ahead. There was no need to loiter. “To Echad Dunnan,” I said.
“Will they have a forge?” Estarfin asked, as he drew Norlome up alongside Pelorian. “I need a forge.” He patted the intricately-carved leather scabbard holding his cracked sword.
I shook my head. “I am unsure if there is a forge still there. I have not travelled this way for so long - you may have to wait until we reach Imladris.”
He nodded. “Hopefully the road is clear until then.”
I lay a hand on Sarphir’s hilt. “I know it is light for you, but you may use my sword if you wish? I have a long knife, and you are better with the weapon.”
But he was shaking his head. “I have a few daggers. They will serve for now.”
I nodded understanding and released my hold on Sarphir. Not that I would permit just anyone to use that sword, but I knew it would have recognised the hand of its maker.
So we rode out of that rift and onto a grassy sward that ran alongside a dry stream bed. I remembered the path. Nothing hindered us, and we all seemed somewhat more ‘alive’ the further we distanced ourselves from our recent experience. In just over half an hour, the gate to Eregion lay before us, and a short distance from that, Echad Dunnan.
~ ~
I say Echad Dunnan, but of course the thriving old camp had been little more than a ruin with tents since the Fall of Eregion. It still served as a waypoint for the few that journeyed that way, but as almost none made for Moria (There had been talks of Dwarven expeditions) it was mostly used by our folk, usually searching for artifacts and relics. Surprisingly, they had built no forge. I would have thought it could be useful, not only for damaged weapons, but for repairing excavating tools.
Parnard batted dust from his clothing with a corner of his cloak before assisting Marawendi off her pony. It did little to improve his appearance. I knew that I must look rather unkempt also, as I looked at Estarfin's filthy clothing and hair. It brought a slight smile to my lips.
I spoke with the stable mistress, Rocherves, who I found familiar. Upon short discussion I recalled her from my time in Pembar. But it was not an occasion for reminiscing. The explanation, “We have come through Moria,” was more than enough impetus for her to leave our company to see to the horses’ care.
I would have spoken more with Marawendi, but she looked weary, and Parnard led her to one of the squat oilcloth tents, bidding her to take a few hours of rest, before returning to the campfire and stretching out beside us.
“There is no doubt Tintallë watches us here,” Estarfin said, pointing up to a sky filled with her stars. He seemed much more at ease now we were away from Moria, that I suspected my choices had tested him far more than usual. They had tested me. I had refused to believe we would meet our end in that place. I held on to my belief Tintallë had her hand in much of what had transpired this past year. Would she let it all be for naught? I thought not.
Others gathered near the camp fire where a meal was being served: a hot broth thick with vegetables served with hunks of buttered bread. Simple though it was, it tasted far more delicious than I anticipated, being the first hot food I had eaten for some days. We all partook, and carried a bowl and plate to Marawendi.
“We should all seek rest now, even if it is for but a few hours,” I suggested, once the meal was finished. Although we were all offered the tent for shelter, that night we slept under the stars.
~ ~
I woke at first light, feeling just a little cold. The fire had burned low and I had thrown off my cloak in my sleep. A few folk were moving about, and once they saw that I…that we, for all of us were keen to move on…were awake, a breakfast of dried fruit and cheese was offered.
We partook with thanks, knowing we had a day or two of travelling rations before a proper meal. Such kindness we received from those of the camp.
We spoke little. I think each of us were taken up with our own thoughts of the nightmare passed. But I would speak with Marawendi. She had impressed me greatly by her resilience. She, who had never travelled beyond the bounds of Mirkwood, had walked through darkness and vaulted spaces under the earth. She had watched us do battle with orcs and goblins, thankfully in small numbers, and stood alone with the horses while we cleared the path of Cave Trolls. That took courage.
“Forgive me, Marawendi. Forgive me all, for taking us on such a dread path. I had hoped to save us time and risk of injury, instead I nigh walked us through Mordor.” I would not make excuses. My intent had been honest, but with my age and experience my decision had been rank folly.
She bowed her head and looked a little embarrassed.
“It is a tale to tell to chill Sogadan,” Parnard said, finishing off the fruit, “and I intend to do it.”
Marawendi tilted her head at this as she nibbled on some cheese.
“You shall meet Sogadan soon,” I said to her with a smile, then returned to the point of my concern. “I think, in hindsight, we would have fared better traversing the thawed snow of the Hithaeglir.”
“And risk avalanches!” said Parnard.
“We risked far worse in that place. I thought the risk a low one, but had we encountered that which stalks the lower levels, we would have stood no chance. It was my overconfidence that led us nigh our doom.”
Estarfin sighed and set his bowl aside.“There was no safe path to choose,” he said, reminding me. “I am glad we are free of that place.”
As I ate, I looked over to the stables, and saw our four horses, among others, well groomed and well fed and watered. Pelorian turned her head as if she knew I was looking at her. She blinked. She was ready.
Again I addressed Marawendi. “I hope you slept a little. I would that we travel soon, if you are ready. It shall be a straightforward ride, most likely, to Imladris. There warm baths, clean linen, and good food and wine await.”
Marawendi managed a small smile, though she was still wan of cheek.
Estarfin was on his feet, eager for us to be on our way. “There is nothing to keep us in these lands.”
“We are free of the darksome pit of the Naugrim,” said Parnard. “Who wishes to ever return there, hmm?”
Marawendi shook her head. She certainly did not.
So we went to the horses, sorted our belongings and mounted up. I went to Rocherves and pressed several silver coins in her hand. She looked a bit awkward, as if she did not wish to accept any coin for her work with the horses.
“It is a poor ‘thank you’ for your aid. I hope to return some time in the future. It would be good to talk at leisure again.”
She nodded. But it was time to ride. Some of the brighter stars were still blazing in the lightning sky.
I smiled and nodded at Estarfin, pointing upwards. He smiled back, the first real smile since we entered Moria.
“It is a pleasure to ride under the stars after so long without them,” he said.
We rode onward through Torech Andraug, past many holly trees and ruins of buildings I had known. Down the hill and past Burnt Tor, heading for Echad Eregion. Ah, that at least was a place I usually found good fortune. Looking to Tâl Caradhras in the distance, I was reminded of that other choice I had rejected, sighing as I recalled what that path had cost. Never again would I travel near that haunt of Sauron either.
By the time we arrived at Imladris, the sun rose so that even the brightest stars slept. It proved to be a short visit.
~ ~
We gave the horses a short rest, and after checking with the guards for any concerning reports from either of the paths to Imladris, decided to take the slightly longer trail towards Gwingris, then down the hillside to cross the Tâl Bruinen, and east to the gorges and the ford. I did not want to risk Pend Eregion with Daergil and the Giants Valley. Not after Moria. Not with Marawendi.
As it transpired our journey was unhindered. All we encountered was the usual wildlife, and a few easily avoidable trolls as the day turned again to night, and stars graced the heavens. I took the lead. Estarfin was watching the sky happily whenever I turned in my saddle to look back, though I suspect he was well aware of our path. Parnard and Marawendi rode close together. My amenable ‘cousin’ seemed to have taken my young apprentice-to-be under his wing. It was better if he was kept busy, rather than purposeless and brooding over the maiden Brasseniel. I would find much work for him to do in Numenstaya.
Over the High Moor we rode, the anticipation of Parnard, Estarfin and myself concerning the comfort that awaited us, urging us on, until we came to the Gates of Imladris nigh to nine o’clock, and the lights in the valley below twinkled like welcoming jewels. This was Marawendi’s first visit. I hoped it would go some way towards making up for the unpleasantness she had endured in the old Dwarven Kingdom.
She was silent the entire descent into the Valley as she gazed about in wonder. All the way down to the stables, and then to Lord Elrond’s House, and the Hall of Fire, she said nothing.
As we approached the steps to the house I spoke to her. “I hope you feel welcome here, Marawendi. For it is truly a Haven for all, and Lord Elrond is one of the noblest, wisest of our kind.”
“We have heard tales in the Wood of this place,” she replied, her brown eyes shining with excitement.
It was pleasing to hear her melodious voice again. I smiled warmly at her.
“Lord Elrond is kind and generous,” said Parnard.
“He is a welcoming host,” added Estarfin.
“We should visit Sogadan briefly,” I said, “that he may swiftly spread the news of our return, and after that, we shall retire to Tham Forodrim and refresh ourselves; there are two baths therein so none should have to wait overlong. And then we shall have a well-cooked supper.”
Parnard nodded emphatically. “Imladris always welcomes the weary traveller, and yes! Let us startle Sogadan with our weather-stained clothing and grim appearance,” he said.
I chuckled at Parnard’s words. In truth, once I had bathed and dined, I would be ready for rest, rather than drinking wine with Sogadan. It was better that we spoke to the Vale’s ‘herald’ first.
We entered the courtyard. As is custom, Estarfin strode to one side of the great double doors of the Hall of Fire, to the alcove where weapons of war were left, and laid his sword, shield and daggers there.
“It is good to be back,” I said, adding Sarphir and my daggers.
Parnard laid his sword Steel-Thorn against a nearby pillar, and taking Marawendi’s knife, gifted to her by Estarfin, dropped it down his boot.
Meanwhile, Estarfin washed his hands in the central fountain, oblivious to the frowns of Salabdúr, one of Elrond’s people, who muttered something under his breath as we entered the Hall of Fire.
My ‘Cousin’ was back in his element. Gliding over to the Vintner, he called out to Sogadan and said, “Well, gossip, as you can see, we have returned!”
