Two days and nights have passed now since I sought to creep into Imladris like a beggar, avoiding the judgemental gaze of pauper and lofty prince alike. My companions, as we crossed the Bridge of Rivendell, could not be contained however. Dawn was breaking despite my best attempts to will the sun not to rise. Young Mae was tired and out of sorts from the long ride, Hawke was surly as a fighting cockerel and already annoyed by slights yet to come and poor Eduwiges was torn between sharing my concerns and reveling in the pleasant memories of her girlhood as a ward of the Court of Elrond. Cyndwin meanwhile was keeping her own counsel, as intent as I was to avoid unwanted attention but for her own reasons.
And so we found ourselves standing in the icy cold spray near the base of the falls of Imladris, each lost in our own thoughts. Stepping somewhat away from my companions, I watched the sheets of falling water and recalled the scene as we had paused before passing through the Gates of Imladris as two sentries stepped forward to challenge us. As could have been expected...Mae shrank back, Cyndwin drew her hood lower over her eyes, Hawke and Eduwiges both gripped weapons...and I rode forward alone.
The sentries had clearly been expecting our arrival. The two that stood before me were young, clearly still performing their obligatory service, as I once had at this very gateway. They stood stiffly, formally, and at first I thought they were afeared of me, but then I realized an officer stood well behind them, silently watching. This was hardly usual for the gates and he and I met eyes. He was somewhat older than myself, but hardly of the elders. A black gem on a short steel chain hung from his right ear, marking him a veteran of the Mirkwood campaigns, his hair cropped close in the style of the Malledhrim Irregulars. We nodded to one another, and he stepped forward without seeming to move.
He spoke in Quenya, his accent highborn. "Are you truly the Gorogrod Huntress? I never realised you were still a little girl...."
I nodded slowly. "I have been called both, but neither for many years...Eryn Lasgalen has new masters or so I have heard."
The officer's face grew impassive. "All of Thranduil's grace will not wash the blood from that ground. If you are indeed the Gorogrod Huntress then my squad owes you their reputation..." he drew back his left sleeve, the veins of his arms scarred an ugly purple by spider venom, "...and I owe you my life."
I shrugged....not the most gracious response but I was taken aback, for in that gesture, I suddenly remembered his face. When last I beheld it was younger and deathly pale, staring at my masked face dully as I sliced him out of the spider webbing, leaving him gasping on the ground behind me as I stalked the crawling horrors deeper into Gorogrod. "I....I did a soldier's duty...no more and no less..."
"Duty or no...I am pleased to see you are not dead yet, despite what some may claim." He held out a tightly rolled scroll. "This is a message I was bidden give to you...and I have been instructed to inform you and your company that you are granted the peace and freedom of Rivendell. Welcome home, Huntress."
As they gestured my fellows forward to ride with me past the gates, the two young sentries stared dumbfounded as their stern captain saluted and bowed to us as we road past him. I remembered then the sound of his voice, younger and choked with weakness and emotion, calling "Hantan Len!" behind me as he and his squad struggled out of the spider den and into the light.
I recalled all this as I stood by the falls in inner turmoil, too many emotions at play for me to express as after a time, my companions gathered their baggage to go off to find the rooms we had been granted. Mae seemed hurt by my reticence as Hawke led her away, and both Cyndwin and Eduwiges paused, unsure if they should leave me or no, but I waved them away. Silently them left me in peace, Cyndwin carrying her sword, Warsong, wrapped in black velvet over her shoulder to hide the blue crystal blazing in its hilt...the crystal which caused this expedition to begin with.
In the silence and thin morning light, I unrolled the scroll and read the following, written in a small, annoyingly perfect hand.
Xanderian,
It gives me great pleasure that you are reading this for it was assumed by the learned that you had been lost to shadow. I would very much wish to speak to you, to gain insight into some of the campaigns and conflicts in which you were a participant. Of special interest to me (among others) are the Long March of Southern Lossarnach, the battle to regain the Dome of Sanctity in Osgilliath, and the last defense of Caravase Battlement in Angmar. I also need your help in understanding and completing the maps of troop movement in the Morannon Infiltration.
Lastly, there are many questions concerning what has occurred recently in Kheledul which the Lady Ahmo is unclear regarding due to her condition, the current status and location of the ring Sindya, and what exactly happened to yourself and the bow you carry during the battle.
I know you must be of mixed emotions to have returned to Imladris, and I may well be the last person you wish to speak with....yet to me falls this task, and I hope you will allow me to explain myself to you face to face as women, no longer the children we were.
Humbly and with great respect,
Selunae, Associate Curator, Antiquities and Anomalies, The Library of Elrond, Rivendell.
I reread this missive three times, remembering the face of the little girl Selunae once was, cold and impassive, as my tutors gathered my things from the small desk I had studied at for so many years, preparing it for this Selunae to occupy instead as my time as a scholar in training was at an abrupt and unwelcome end.
I remembered meeting her eyes, trying to glean some understanding of her and why this was happening to me, but her expression betrayed nothing save for solemn acceptance of her new lessons and duties, as was appropriate. But that was the child Selunae, I wondered what the woman Selunae had in store for me.
Carefully rerolling the scroll, I turned to seek out my companions and make my apologies, and nearly stumbled over a woman in my path. Her demeanor was anxious and scattered despite the serene beauty born of great age and she became quite flustered, begging my pardon in a halting, broken tone. At her throat, a gem seemed to burn with a fire at it's heart, all the brighter as she stuttered her apology.
I bowed, asking her forgiveness for my own clumsiness, and carefully introduced myself. The only name I used was Xanderian, but that was enough as I saw she had clearly heard something of my sad infamy, yet to her credit that realization quickly fled her face and she faced me directly, her gaze unwavering and constant. Her eyes were deepest black, so dark they seemed to absorb rather than reflect light and I found them fascinating, bespeaking great knowledge.
She introduced herself as Calidis and I stared at her in amazement, my mind flashing back to a hushed conversation with Fillegedhiel as I sought her help in the riddle of the blue crystal. She bid me seek out Calidis of Rivendell. She had heard the dwarves of Thorin's forges speaking of her, and they seemed convinced that no one else outside of Lothlorian or the Undying Lands had her vast knowledge of artifacts of power and ringcraft. If anyone would be able to help shed light upon the blue crystal prison and what had happened to Cyndwin, she felt it would be she.
And there Calidis was, standing before me....and again I was filled with a sense of Elbereth's blessing and guidance.
But now, I grew weary and my companions call to me to be in bed, and I will continue this when I wake....
