Lady of Battle

She heard the sounds of working and laughter. It was cheerful and calming. The sun shone down on her face, blinding her sight. She couldn’t see where she was and rolled her eyes to try to regain her sight. They slowly focused in onto a group of elves standing not far from her. She carefully scanned the area before attempting to sit up. She was lying under a large Mallorn tree, atop of blankets which had been spread to form a bed. She couldn’t understand it but the last she remembered she was about to meet her end. Upon sitting up a young male approached her.

“You must take it easy, my Lady. You are not completely well, just yet,” cautioned the young elf.

“I don’t understand,” Brenauth asked, “What happened?”

The young elf placed his hand behind her head and guided her head back down to rest on the bedding.
He could see she was upsetting herself.

“Shhh… calm down, drink this. You are safe here.” He handed her a small cup and help hold it to her lips. She took a couple of gulps and pulled away.

“Tell me,” she commanded.

The elf slowly and calming put down his tools and began to cautiously relay the events she had slumbered through.

“My Lady, the word is, the March Warden saved your life,” he explained.

“Saved my life?” she questioned. “He saved me from…? The orc! Yes! They had me. I was… “

It came back to her and the young elf could see that she was getting too excited again. He gently placed his hand over her chest, just below her neck and firmly held it there to let her know not to try and get up again. She felt like a child being reprimanded and it only served to frustrate her more.

“The Lieutenant said that he watched the March Warden ride off after the orc which had captured you. He waited for nearly half a day at the border. He said that finally after night fell, he saw the March Warden riding in with you clutched in his arms,” the elf paused as he started to untie her tunic to better inspect her injuries but she did not pay any attention, only wanting to hear the events. She cared not for her injuries.

“The elves in the unit say that his clothing was covered in orc blood. They say that he fought many orc to win you back. Tell me, do you remember any of it, Lady?”

The elf stared, waiting with eager eyes. It was obvious that, he too, wanted to hear the story from a witness. Behind him, several young Galadhirm had stirred and were listening closely. But she could not tell them much. She did not remember seeing the March Warden there at all. She did not remember anything but helplessness and the decision to take her life. She did not even know how long she had even been asleep. She could only reply to his question with a confuse stare to which he only nodded in understanding and went about his tasks again. The small group behind him slouched in disappointment.

“How long have I slumbered?” she tried to turn to better position herself and relax.

“Four days, my Lady? He began to apply an ointment to the gash on her arm.

“Four days? So long?” she was shocked.

“Yes, my lady. When you first arrived, it appeared your injuries not so severe but your body slumbered till now; it must have needed it.”

She must have needed the rest for her body to need such a long recovery. It had been ages since she had suffered injuries needing rest. She did not seem to have any serious wounds but only scratches and a couple of gashes but she knew that her body healed quickly and by sleeping so long, she would have slumbered passed seeing what her injuries truly had been.

Suddenly, she was feeling tired again and so concluded that the elf must have given her something which would make her rest. She accepted this and relaxed back to allow it to take effect. As she began to doze, she was just content to still be alive and thankful to be lain next to this ancient tree for she could feel it feeding her its ancient and powerful vibe and healing.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The next day, while in her talan, Brenauth sat contemplating the actions which had gotten her captured. She had behaved recklessly and she knew that it had almost gotten the March Warden killed as well. She knew she had let her emotions lead her actions that day and felt ashamed of such behavior. Not only did she need to thank the March Warden for saving her, but she needed to apologize for putting them both in such a position in the first place.

Since waking, she had inquired about the March Warden but no one seemed to be able to locate him. She had sent a message requesting council with him but the messengers had been unable to give her a response. She knew that he had many duties to see to, especially since being made the March Warden and given the responsibility of seeing to the safety of the borders of Lothlorien. She knew of the intensity of the orc attacks on the border, which, she concluded, was why the March Warden was unable to answer her messages.

She had inquired a few times as to the condition of the border patrol, her doctor had given strict instruction that she not be bothered with any stressful or upsetting news, but she would know despite this young elf’s insistence. She understood he wanted her to rest and thought that secluding her would insure that. Of course, this only served annoyed her.

Elves scattered busily all around the camp performing each task as the sun’s rays touched the golden leaves of Lothlorien. It was evident that it was going to be a bright day and this placed the Lady Seneschal at ease. It was no secret that the orc despised the sunlight, and it had always been a Galadhrim superstition that nothing bad could happen on a beautiful, sunlit day such as this. But, Brenauth knew better.

The attack flashed through her mind and she could only think about her succumbing to despair. She had given up in the end. She had given in to death and this was not her way. She was a powerful warrior; not just of body, but in soul. Her mind had fought greater battles than that and she had given into helplessness and welcomed her end. The thought of her father’s shame poured over her and she felt saddened.

‘Father… I couldn’t face it again. My mind failed me.’

After her failed attempt to grab the sword and despite her struggles to break free from the orc holding her down, she realized she had no way to free herself from the hoard of orc. Her despair and fear had overcome her and she had lost all will of mind. She had felt her mind breaking and it had begun to wonder. All those centuries ago and the memories of the events then, had been flooding her dreams of late. She had known that it had been a part of her lost of control. The memories of that day had been like a weight pulling her heart and mind into a vast sea of darkness. It was the turning point of her life. Although she survived that day it had changed her spirit forever…

The roar behind the gate had frozen all elves to their spots. They knew it well by now and knew what would follow. They had no time to lose.

“Get to the pass!” Ecthelion called out.

With a delayed reaction, the many elves inside started to slowly pour into the great hall leading to the Mountain pass. Mother’s carried their young while injured warriors, of no further use for the situation, accompanied them through.

Behind them a large humming sound began to shower through the air over them, enveloping all cries and nearly all other sounds, while the gate began to glow a soft pink. Melisalda yelled to her brother,

“Ecthelion!”

He couldn’t hear her, and continue to point at his soldiers, giving silent instruction as to where to take their places. She moved down off the ledge she had been standing, ran to his side and jerked him around to look at her. She leaned in and began to scream as loudly as she could, into his ear. She was barely audible over the large, powerful humming.

“There is no time. We must get out now!”

“What do you mean, I cannot abandon this now!” his face showed bewilderment.

“This is folly. You sacrifice yourself to achieve no gain!” She had taken his hand into hers and had jerked it hard, pulling him into her embrace. She put her arms around him and continued to yell as loud as she could into his ear.

“It will come through and melt through your forces quickly. You know this. Come with me now!”

She held him tight; not wanting to let go. He was injured and therefore could go with them. It was alright for him to leave with her. But she knew he would be the honorable leader and stay to his death. She just couldn’t bare it. He was just 10 years older. He had been her best friend her whole life. She could not lose him and her parents on the same day; besides, he was the last one.

He pulled back and glared into her eyes. Without speaking, he conveyed his thoughts.

‘I see you are frightened. I know your heart as you know mine. No matter what happens, remember that. I cannot go with you. I could not live with that decision. Please understand this and relieve me of that disappointment. It would be the greatest gift you have ever given.’

Tears had filled her eyes and all her anger toward him dissipated away. For how could she hold anger towards him? He was Ecthelion; loyal member of their house, most loving brother and friend, and valiant warrior. How could she have been so selfish as to take that away?

The confusion in his eyes began to disappear as she granted his wish and release her clasp. He turned to walk to the line of soldiers to join them and paused for a moment, standing with his back to her. He slowly turned around and pure peace was on his face.

‘ ‘Salda, remember me. You must live through this day and remember all of us. Never forget my love for you.’

Ecthelion’s power in that moment enabled Melisalda to hold her head high. The control and strength he possessed in that moment was intoxicating. He stood tall and strong, no fear shown on his face and when she looked into his powerful silver eyes, they shown with massive confidence and power. They entranced her; calming her. Suddenly all the pain and shadow had gone. Somehow in that moment, he had transferred to her a part of his strength, for he had enough for 20 elves to face their end with.

‘You make our lineage proud, brother.’

He turned and walked away. Her thoughts now turned to the Golden one. The one she had forsworn. She had been cruel and drunk with rage when she spoke to him. She had shamed him rather than empower him with her words.

‘What have I done?’

She had to find him before she could leave. She had to tell him that she understood his reasons and that she was honored to receive such devotion and love from one so strong and loyal. She could not leave this place without telling him she loved him.

She searched the chaotic scene. Powerful warriors had taken their places; Archers on the ledges, swordmen in the center. The remaining elves gathered at the entrance to the hall to the pass, desperately trying to push their way in by packing tightly through the entrance – panic and tragedy in their eyes. Elleths turned with tears in their eyes as they grabbed final glances of their loved ones who were staying behind.

‘I don’t see him’

She climbed higher so as to scan the courtyard better. It was a large circular courtyard, the grandest in the city. And it was full of brave warriors who had chosen to stay behind and defend their families. She finally caught sight of the insignia of his house – The House of the Golden Flower. She searched for his golden hair for he was one of the few who bore it, the rest having been born raven. But she could not see him.

She jumped down and struggled to push her way through the elves to reach their location. One of his house met her and spoke, leaning into her ear so she could hear,

“My Lady, you should be on your way.”

“Where is your lord?” she asked desperately.

He turned and pointed. Through the elves she saw him. He stood tall, glancing at the gate that would give any moment. His chin was up and he gave the appearance of a warrior ready to fight. She stopped several feet away and called to him,

“Glorfindel!” he did not turn.

‘Glorfindel’ she reached to him, hoping he would hear her heart.

Slowly he turned his head. His eyes met hers and she felt her heart sink. For in them she saw waste. He was undone and numb. Nothing of the elf she knew stood in front of her. Pure sadness shown within his eyes and she felt her heart tear out at the sight.

‘How could I have done this?’

He stared through his numb expression. The noise was deafening and she could hear the calls of the numerous orc on the other side, preparing to come through. The monstrous roars of the Balrog’s could be felt through the vibrations in the ground. She could not move. She knew that the gate would give soon but she could not move. She had to repair this.

‘I love you, Glorfindel. In my heart, you and I are one. You are my true husband and mate. You have my heart and my life to command as you wish. I am yours, forever.’

She watched him as his eyes glazed. His breathing increased and his eyes watered; though no tears escaped, for he had fought them back. His soldiers could not see their lord and master that way now. She knew that. He glared into her eyes and said nothing. But she knew her words had reached him and she could see the passion and fire rekindling inside him. He was coming back to her. His sword arm twitched slightly and she saw his hand grasp stronger to his sword. He was ready now. Without taking his eyes off her, he raised his arm straight above his head, holding his sword high to the sky. His soldiers followed and she could see they had begun to cry out to their house. He continued to look at her, his arm held up in place.

‘I will honor you, this day.’

She received this thought and felt pride from it. He would. She knew that. She began to step backward slowly, still holding eye contact with him. He step forward suddenly, as if he wanted to take her in is arms, one last time. She held her hand up at this, holding him to his spot. And with a reassuring glance she turned and headed to the hall. She had joined the crowds of elven families and had entered the hall. At a quick pace the crowd had made quite far when she heard it.

‘ ‘Salda, save me!’

What? Who? She stopped and turned looking over the elves that parted and walked past her into the hall.

‘ ‘Salda, help! Why do you not help me?!’

She didn’t understand. Where and who was it coming from? Slowly she began to fight her way back through the crowd, back toward the courtyard.

‘Why have you abandoned me?’

Brother? Ecthelion? Was it he? She broke into a sprint, knocking any elf in her path down. One called out to her,

“Are you mad?!” as he helped his brethren up from the ground.

‘Help me!’

Was he hurt or worse; captured? It couldn’t be for he would not call out to her now. She raced as fast as she could when suddenly she stop in her path.

‘‘Salda, they hurt me!’

“Galumed,” the whisper had left her lips before she could register her revelation.

‘Still alive!’

Her little brother was still alive and he called to her. She could sense his pain and fear. She could not leave him. She could feel he was close and she had to find him. She continued through the hall, pushing through the crowd with all her might until she saw an outlet to the side. She knew this one well. It led to the garden of Tulka. She could make time this way. She turned and fled through the small hall and race as fast as she could. She could feel she was getting closer. His suffering was great. His spirit called out to her as if it knew she were close.

‘Ahh… they tear at me!’

‘By valar, what do they do to him?! He is just a young one! Monsters!’

She ran as fast as she could. She had no weapons. She had no idea how she was going to get him but she had to try. He was so young. Was she already too late? She had heard stories of how they treated prisoners. She felt sickened when the thoughts of what they were doing to him passed her mind.

She could hear the echo of a great battle occurring through the halls. She imagined that she was only a short distance behind the great courtyard now. The warrior calls and cries of her brethren was something she was sure not to ever forget. Her side ached but she had to press on.
She continued until she could see the opening into the great garden. The trees were coming into focus at the end of the hall.

‘Ahh… ‘Salda!’

‘I come to you, Galumed!’ Tears filled her eyes and frustration enveloped her that she could not stop this torment for him this instant. She could bare it no longer and had lost all senses of her surroundings. She entered the great garden and, her mind rambling, could not decide what to do; which direction to go. Her ribs now throbbed from her injuries and so she stood there spinning, trying to discern which way to go from here. Her head was dizzy and spun even more as she turned from side to side. Farther into the garden, disappearing into its trees she continued while holding her side. Her run had become a slight limp as she reached the center of the garden and stopped, glancing at the great tree at the center – Tulka.

‘Give me strength, old friend, for I will need it this day.’

The chaos had not reached this part of the city, or so it would have seemed. Peace enveloped this place still and it helped to clear her mind. And just as she had started to regain her mind and spirit and continue her search, the trees began to frantically whisper. They became panicked; their leaves rustling and before she could read their warning, she realized there was something in this place with her; something greatly wicked.

Her body shook with fear as she slowly turned to gaze behind her. Standing calmly and patiently was the largest orc she had ever seen. He was taller than any elf, by at least a head. An evil machine of death and torment; his retched stare, full of malice, gleamed of hatred and carnage. She could see he had horrible plans for her.

She had no weapon, she was injured badly, her mind unclear – still hearing her little brother’s cries. She truly knew not what to do. She had no idea how long they stood there facing off to each other. This one was different. When she looked at him, she could see his mind working, as he had turned his head to the side, examining her thoroughly. He was in no hurry which let her know they were alone. He bore armor unlike the others. This one was stronger than the others. She could tell that the moment she felt his presence; he radiated colossal evil.

His growl-like purr intensifies as a menacing smile slowly fills his features. He slowly advances toward her while his left hand reaches up to slowly unbuckle the arm protecting his right shoulder. She slightly loses her balance and takes a sturdying step back as she realizes his intentions. She looks him in the eyes and the fear overwhelms her like prey to a predator; she was frozen to the ground, unable to react. He advances farther, continuing to remove his armor. She manages an uncoordinated stumble back into the clutches of the great tree. He stops to stand above her, his completely naked, grotesquely muscled body seems to tower above as she stops breathing, her eyes fixed on his monstrous and misshapen orc cock.

He reeked of death and decay, the smell causing fits of nausea. His hand reached down to couple his hugely erect muscle. His breathing quickening as his muscles and veins constrict in his throat. Her eyes still fixed on his groin she did not see the striking blow coming.

The slap had been powerful enough to launch her face first to the side of the tree. Stunned, she remains while he steps to her slapping her again, she falls into the ground. Her face striking a root, she felt her jaw snap and immediately she knew it was broken. She turns and tries to crawl up to run, only making it a few steps before he grabs her by one leg and jerks her into the air. Now dangling from his grasp her breathing becomes difficult due to her injured ribs. Struggling for him to release her she calls out,

“Please…!”

He does not reply only smiles larger and chuckles, his grasp on her ankle tightens to the point of nearly crushing it.

“Ahh… stop, please!”

He laughs out loud now, obviously enjoying her torment and she realizes that he has only begun. She begins to struggle harder.

‘I will not let this happen. I must get free.’

But this is not realized when he lays a powerful blow to her broken ribs with his fist; two, three, four punches later he releases her to fall onto her neck, rolling to face away from him. She stares out into the garden, trying to focus on getting her breath back, nearly losing consciousness before she gets air. He steps around her body, grabbing a large handful of her long hair at the root and leads her to her feet, running her across the grass and into the large tree face first. The bark tears at her face, leaving multiple scratches and scraps on her left cheek and busting open a gash over her left eye. The blood trickles down into her eye, blinding her. Her eyes roll back into her head as she struggles to keep consciousness.

He straddles her high above and reaches down to grab the back of her down. He rips ferociously at it, shredding it to thin pieces. Stepping to her side, he kicks her over and grabs the remainder of the gown and tosses it away. Dropping to his knees, he leans over her face and allows his tongue to cup under her left jaw line, bringing it up her cheek to her temple. Leaning back, he swallows the blood just cleaned from her cheek and trembles with excitement as he fixes his gaze on her again; the taste further stiffening his already bulging cock.

Again, he leaned in close to her enjoying the smell of the young, innocent female, believing her to be incapacitated. Suddenly she struck him scratching his eye and frantically trying to land more blows. This only served to enrage him. He backhands her down into the ground. As she lay he gets up and walks to his armor, pulling out a large serrated dagger. He prowls back and straddles her at the waist, grabbing the hand she had struck him with. Holding it up behind her, against Tulka, he, with a fast powerful strike, crucifies the hand to the great tree.

“Ahhhhhhh…,” her screams echo through the garden as her other hand reaches up to clasp the wrist of the injured hand. He sits up on his knees and takes an appreciative gaze at his work; he seemed pleased.

Further straddling her, he grabs her hair to turn her face toward him. She pulls her head forward a bit, her mouth opening to let out another cry, when he pushes himself into her mouth, pushing his full length all the way in, pulling her head all the way to his stomach. Her gags and convulsions only further exciting him. He withdrawals and re-enters, repeatedly; enjoying her hot breath as she gasps for air.

He withdrawals and taking his cock in his hand, slaps her face with it several times. Her humiliation is at maximum. Her thoughts are only desperate at this time. He stands up and flips her over onto her knees. She struggles to hold her weight with only one arm, while trying to release the pulling pressure of the crucified hand. Before she can, his rough hands reach between her thighs, forcing them open, spreading her farther, and lifting her rear into the air, her knees barely grazing the tips of the grass beneath them. She feels the tip of his huge cock probing for her opening and her heart withers.

‘Oh valar, take my life! Do not let this pass!’

With no warning, other than a blinding pain, he finds her opening and enters powerfully. As his forceful thrusts tear through her innocence, the pain courses through her as she is taken violently. Her cries and pleading turn to pathetic sobs as his claws tear at the soft, ivory skin on her back and sink in to better keep hold and pull her back to him. She struggles to fight no more. He has beaten her both physically and mentally. His dominant thrusts continue, his enormous muscle slashing and stretching her more and more. He comes to a sudden halt, pressing himself deep within her, rolling his hips. The grinding causing deep waves of pain in her abdomen. Her sobs became even more desperate.

Her thoughts left her own situation as she heard another cry for help:

‘ ‘ Salda… please!’

It was at this moment that she knew she would not save her little brother.

‘min tithen, (little one) I have failed!’

With several more pounding thrusts the orc threw his head back and released a loud roar as he reached his climax; his claws sinking deeper into her flesh. She could sense the foul fluid filling her and began to gag in response. With a final grunt, he withdrawals for the last time, throwing her to the ground, the impact causing her to grunt and cough. She lay there and could feel the torn flesh of her gaping vagina pulsing in time with her rapid heartbeat; the wave of nausea returning. She rolled to her side, as far as her crucified hand would allow and vomited violently, into the grass.

She could feel her spirit leaving and she weakened more and more by the second; she was fading and she knew it. And she welcomed it. For she did not know what else this animal had in store for her and she did not want to survive this; survive her family. She had failed to save her brother and she was now tainted by this foul demon of Mordor.

Once again dressed in his armor, the orc walked back to where she lay; casually and without thought he took hold of the dagger and quickly jerked it free; its jagged blade tearing cruelly through her hand. She gasped and carefully clutched the hand to her breast. It had taken her breath and therefore she had made no sound when he had removed the dagger; she had no will protest any farther. She was simply done.

Cleaning the dagger off by leaning down to use a lock of her hair, he then turns as if to leave. She rolls away from him, curling up into a fetal position. She did not want to be left like this. Was he not going to finish? She could not go on after being brutalized so severely by this beast. Though she was probably fading at that moment, she wanted to make sure. With her last bit of strength, she spoke,

“Weakness, have you not the stomach to finish it?” She had managed to curl her tongue around the words to paint them with contempt.

As he turned, he pulled his sword and in quick strides started toward her. Her back still to him, she heard his advance and slowly closed her eyes to prepare for the end. From between clenched teeth, he muttered,

“Die elf whore!”

As he spoke the last word, he swung his blade, slicing open her back, exposing the deep muscle within. She tensed, held her breath, and let her conscience go into the blackness.

Frustrated at not getting the final scream he wanted, the angered orc drew back his foot and kicked her, driving her into the great tree, Tulka.

Coldness enveloped her as the lifeblood flowed from her wounds. Amidst the blackness, she began to hear the hallow voices of her brethren singing from within the great Halls of Mandos. Gradually, she began to notice a thrumming behind the voices - It was strangely familiar. Slowly, the noise grew louder as the voices began to fade. In the darkness, a faint light appeared. The light began to grow and she could feel gentle warmth seeping back into her broken body. The blood flow from her wounds slowed. She slowly regained consciousness, while above her the leaves of the great tree began to fall. Faster, more and more of the leaves began to rain down on her, blanketing her naked, beaten body. Hardly able to move, she raised tenderly as her back throbbed in pain. She was severely injured, but still alive.

Cautiously, she rose to her feet and stood facing Tulka. Her confusion and delirium from the pain clear. She watched as the leaves continued to fall more rapidly; life was leaving this tree. It was clear, what was happening. She had been given a gift of life – a life she didn’t want to accept.

‘I do not want to survive this.’

The tree’s power came over her and conveyed its last message along with the last of its clout.

‘It is our will, you survive. You will heal in time.’

And with that, its last leaf fell to the ground…


~~~~~~~~~~~~


She believed it had been Tulka - The ancient father of trees; the one who had saved her millennia ago, that had saved her once again. When the orc had surrounded her, holding her down and preparing to take her, it had been the power of Tulka within her which had caused her conscience to wonder, taking her to a safe place and protecting her mind. He had taken her back to the great gardens of Gondolin. There she had lain back into his embrace; the same as she had done when she was young. She could actually smell the sweet leaves and feel the cradling of Tulka’s council. And there, for a time, he had comforted her there, releasing her of her memory of current events.

She knew that no one else could understand this power but she was glad for it, its healing effects still lingering with its warmth even now.

Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly when she heard a voice from below. Walking to the edge, a smile spread across Brenauth’s face, for she knew the voice belonged to Rhokrist.

“Is there a Seneschal up there? I heard this mighty warrior got herself caught and likely became a damsel.” She stood sure footed glancing upward trying to get a better view of Brenauth, a playful grin spread on her face. Brenauth glanced down and couldn’t help but let Rhokrist feel that she was glad to see her there. Although Brenauth regarded her as young, she needed to remind herself at times that Rhokrist was a fully seasoned elf and warrior. Her own reaction made Brenauth realized at that moment that Rhokrist was, indeed, her friend.

They walked through the camp which, although was close to the border, was not anywhere as near where Brenauth and the March Warden were attacked. They laughed and joked as the elves of the camp watched, hesitant to let Brenauth and her friend see the smiles she was bringing to their faces. Many had not seen Brenauth this friendly. They had never seen her at leisure as she had always been attending to a serious task or a political errand. And she actually began to relax a little in their presence, though she didn’t know why. She only knew that she was feeling more at her leisure to enjoy herself than before.

She watched her friend closely as they strolled through the camp, watching the soldiers at work. It seemed that Rhokrist knew nearly all of them. Brenauth began to realize that Rhokrist was quite the lady. Everyone spoke to her as if they knew her well and appeared quite fond of her. And why wouldn’t they be? She was so full of life; as Brenauth had been in her youth. Rhokrist was true to herself; one of her best qualities. When she had been just a child student, she had plainly stated to Brenauth what she wanted and how she would get it. Even then, she knew what she wanted and had the will to work for it. It was the reason Brenauth had taken her under her wing. She had admired the young one. Rhokrist reminded her of herself.

She was glancing at Rhokrist, giving the appearance of attentiveness but the truth was she wasn’t hearing anything Rhokrist was saying at the moment. She was only admiring her beauty and strength and had been dwelling on her own thoughts.

“Brenauth,” Rhokrist had stopped talking and was looking at the Seneschal with a concerned expression.

“Are you well? Do you need to rest?” she pointed at a shaded patch of soft grass and lead the way to relax.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, a Greenwood party comes to Caras Galadon. Apparently they will stay 6 moons and I heard rumors of a party coming from Rivendel as well. Apparently, it is to discuss the threat we have all encountered lately. But mostly, it is to strengthen treaties and keep allies.” Rhokrist was smiling largely a gleam in her eye, like a teenage man-child telling secrets, “You will be needed in Caras Galadon.”

“What mischievous deeds are you up to?” Brenauth asked reluctantly, a hesitant smile coming across her face.

“Oh, no deeds at all, it’s just that… all sorts of fun comes with the Greenwood elves. There traditions are quite free and quite releaving. Such fun accompanies their visits.” She seemed to be daydreaming as she spoke. Brenauth knew her friend and knew she was probably thinking of the flirtations that came with the elves of Greenwood. Even Brenauth had to admit, the elves of Greenwood were quite attractive and quite lively. They certainly made banquets more interesting in the Royal Halls.

“You would do well to stay away from them when they are here,” Brenauth said, “Combined with your wild spirit, it could only mean trouble.”

Rhokrist began to giggle as if she knew a big secret. It troubled Brenauth.

“What?” she asked.

“Lady, you really do need to accept the new ways. Your ways were millennia ago and those ways are now dead to us.” Rhokrist spoke as if she was breaking harsh news. “My lady, you miss out on such fun by clinging to your old ways. You must let go of those silly notions and allow yourself to live in the new time.” Rhokrist paused to allow her words to sink in. She knew her words were going to fall on deaf ears but she held out hope nevertheless.

Brenauth contemplated on her friends words. She could see that the elves of her realm were quite sociable with her friend. Her friend’s wild notions had not seemed to damage her standing with the Galadhrim. They seemed to respect her despite her feral spirit. But brenauth was a highborne. She had lived this way for centuries. She just could not see herself philandering with the soldiers over a cup of wine. She wouldn’t know where to start.

“Besides, I am not as wild as you think. What is accepted has quite changed in society. The new way of thinking is that no elves blood is set above another’s; not by law anyway. We are free to seek company as we wish.” Rhokrist smiled seductively as if she had more to tell but Brenauth was exhausted and longed for a bed. She really had been more ill than she had thought as she needed more rest these last days than she could remember needing in her life.

“Maybe so,” was all she replied as she stood and motioned to head back to her talan. Rhokrist jumped up quickly and they started back.

Once back, she took her leave and lay out across her bedding. Rhokrist’s words repeated in her mind and Brenauth knew she was right. She had already known everything she had heard from her friend. She had just always preferred to keep to herself and had found it easier to just allow people to believe it was due to old customs. But honestly, she had never believed in the customs, not even when she was in Gondolin. It had been these customs that had been the basis for separating her from the first and only love in her life…

TBC


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*Author’s Note* – For the name Galumed; I combined Galu = Blessings, and medu = last. Galumed is meant to mean ‘Final Blessing’