Night was falling over Echad Dagoras, muting the color of the land into shadows. A quiet began to descend on the encampment as the elves of Vanimar settled themselves for rest after the long day of traveling. They had set out from Imladris under the cover of night and had not stopped to rest since then. Eliriael remembered the veil of night lifting for the arrival of dawn just as her feet splashed across the Ford of Bruinen.
And as the light of the sun faded, the dark raiment of the elves, worn to protect from unwelcome and searching eyes, clothed her kin in the secrecy of the shade once again. Their motion slowed as they ate and drank and spoke in hushed voices with one another. Only a few Rangers stood along the edge of the encampment, watching silently. All was quiet, yet Eliriael knew there was little peace that accompanied it.
She turned to Fainneleg, a Ranger who she knew to be responsible for managing the supplies in the camp. “Do you have parchment and an object with which I can write a letter?”
Fainneleg smiled wryly, caught between a desire to help but a shortage of supplies. The demands of the camp weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he grew weary of denying the men what they needed. “We have little to spare…” Fainneleg handed the elf-maiden a sheet of parchment, a tattered quill, and a small vial of ink.
Eliriael smiled, the corners of her eyes lifting upward with a look of happiness that seemed ill fit for the times, Fainneleg thought. “Thank you, you are generous, yet I have no need for so much. Keep what you can.” She tore the parchment in a clean line and took only the top quarter for herself. The rest, she left with Fainneleg.
As the Ranger breathed a sigh of relief and returned the material to a crate behind him, Eliriael found a remote corner in the camp and sat upon the grass. She allowed the moonlight to shine across the strip of parchment to light the path of her writing. Taking up the quill and ink, Eliriael began to write in tiny elegant script:
Dear Lady Rainith of the Order of the Pillar,
I ask that you pardon my handwriting and this torn letter, for the Rangers of Echad Dagoras fall short in their supplies. I write to you, as you have asked, in hopes that news of our journey will bring some measure of comfort to the hearts of those who have chosen to remain in the valley.
We passed into Eregion safely, close after the break of dawn. In Gwingris, Lord Veryacano stopped briefly to gather news from the elves there. Yet, finding none, he led us further south past Mirobel until we finalled reached Echad Dagoras before nightfall.
Though we have passed through Eregion in just a day since we left the valley, we hope that our movement has gone unnoticed. As for the days to come, Lord Veryacano intends to remain for some time here among the Rangers. I believe he wishes to hasten, yet we have no trail to follow. Thus, we will stay in Echad Dagoras, where we came upon Lady Aiweth, who delivered to us the news of our Tur.
I will write again soon, my lady, when there is time and our journey progresses. For now, we have the supplies we each brought with us, and I trust Lady Nirhen will arrange for more to come from the valley. Yet, I will write to you that Echad Dagoras seems to suffer currently, being much in need, and I fear there will soon be little with which to even write letters.
Ever at your service,
Eliriael
She rolled her letter carefully and slid it into a tiny capsule that she had pulled from her pack. Sealing it carefully, she returned it to the front pocket of her pack. She would send it through Lord Veryacano’s falcon the next morning.
Eliriael looked up at the stars, which twinkled back at her, and she smiled. To her Lady Rainith, she only wrote what was necessary. But there was much that had passed already which she had not touched upon, for it was of no importance to the House but of great concern to her heart.
When the Vanimarians reached Echad Dagoras, Lord Veryacano expressed his intentions of gathering information from the Dunlanders, who had held Lord Anglachelm and Lady Aiweth hostage. As he finished, Belegos stepped forward and spoke. His voice was soft, but everyone heard him. To Eliriael, though, his words sounded distant, as if they came from far away and she could not understand him. And it was true, for she could not comprehend why he asked for permission to leave the camp freely, throwing himself in harm’s way.
“Reckless indeed…” Eliriael narrowed her eyes at Belegos later, after the company had parted to rest.
“It is my duty in the Order of the Arrow. Who else would do it if not me?”
Eliriael blinked. Surely he could not be so eager to expose himself to danger, venturing off alone, when they had only just been reunited. Did he not want to sail West one day together? Perhaps he did not know how she would suffer if they were separated again. Though she had not realized it when they first met ages ago, Eliriael’s young heart had clung desperately to the life line that had been thrown to her amidst the fires of Gondolin. And she had never let go…
Eliriael whispered, “Then you will take me with you…”
The resolve in Belegos’ eyes wavered, betraying conflict in his mind. But it was only for a moment before he looked at her with a quiet authority. “This is not a mission for you, Eli.”
“I am quick and silent. I promise not to disturb you,” she responded, her voice low. There had been a time when she had listened and allowed him to leave her behind. A tremble stole through her at the memory and Eliriael looked into his eyes defiantly. She would not let him repeat their past, escaping from her grasp like flower petals carried off by the wind.
Still, she had never challenged his decision and she feared his disapproval. As the seconds passed, Eliriael began to consider rescinding her request, but she held her expression confidently. There was nothing in her face that betrayed her heart’s hesitation. Yet, to her joy, Belegos finally nodded in consent, “Well then we shall give you a try!” Her worries dissipated and her face beamed with a smile as she embraced him excitedly. A child’s love, she would always hold for him.
“Stick close to me, do as I say and all should be fine,” he reassured her.
For Eliriael, this decision to leave the camp and enter the dwelling of the Dunlanders was made easy. Yet, for others, there was still a choice to be made. As she awaited the full darkness of night to come and Belegos’ sign to leave, she spoke with Laurelindo. He sat in a corner of the camp, rather secluded from everyone else. His mind was busy with thoughts and his posture of contemplation stilled his body. Not being a warrior like most of the Vanimarians who came, he deliberated between going with the Hammer lords and remaining at the camp. Laurelindo’s features were calm, but Eliriael sense that the decision pressed upon his heart. He turned to her and explained his feelings to her. “If I go, I will worry about everyone here, and if I stay I will worry about those who go.”
Eliriael nodded gently. For an elf such as Laurelindo, who was both kind and compassionate, his worries stretched far beyond himself to encompass the well-being of others. Though he would need to make the decision for himself, she reminded him that although the camp may be based in the ruins of a settlement from long ago and lacking in fortitude, there were still the Rangers who kept watch and guarded the place.
She smiled, hoping to give him some measure of comfort. Eliriael sympathized with Laurelindo, for she knew that she would be facing the same decision if Belegos had not been here. However, as it was, she was tied to her rescuer inextricably and she would protect him with her life. Of this, she was as certain as the rising of the sun at dawn.
Yet, perhaps she should have advised Laurelindo to stay at Echad Dagoras, if only to avoid the anger of the Hammerites. Lord Estarfin and Lady Nirhen seemed to deem it highly unwise for her to go with Belegos at all.
Nirhen scowled at Eliriael, her face stern and unyielding. “You have no business accompanying Belegos. He should know that. That he does not, is…unfortunate.”
Eliriael blinked. She responded simply, “Why can I not? He has permitted me to accompany him.” As much as she respected their concern, she knew they did not understand that she had no choice. Her heart had already bent her entire will towards watching over Belegos now that she had found him once again. Her body tensed and shook inside just to think of staying at the camp, while waiting endlessly for his return.
The two Hammer warriors stood tall before her, and as they spoke in their frustration, they loomed ever larger over Eliriael, like a black stone wall, impenetrable and immovable, standing in her path. What could a healer such as she accomplish? They knew she lacked the skills of a warrior and expected her to remain at the camp where she would not be a hindrance.
In the face of such opposition, Eliriael remained still and her expression held an unwavering smile. But in her mind, she felt herself grow small, helpless as the young elleth who saw her beloved father join the fight for Gondolin, only to never return to her.
Yet, in this moment, a most unexpected warrior stood beside her. “Do not be quick to judge. Perhaps there is more to the lady than meets the eye and perhaps she will turn out to be as valuable as any warrior.” Lord Veryacano looked at Eliriael for a moment, his gaze piercing and knowing as if she stood bare before him. “I think her time will come. Fate sometimes delivers strange outcomes.”
But at the insistence of Nirhen, Lord Veryacano did express that Eliriael would be wise to remain at the camp. Still, his final judgment was that he trusted Belegos and his knowledge in stealth. Estarfin, though, felt otherwise; even though he was confident in his friend’s skills, he could not agree with Belegos’ decision to bring Eliriael. “I do not believe Belegos’ judgment is sound in this matter, Lord.”
Veryacano replied calmly. “You are all seasoned warriors and experienced scouts. You do not need me to babysit you.”
“She is neither,” Nirhen pointed out.
“Well then Nirhen…compensate for it,” the Hammer lord retorted, quite unphased.
To this answer, Nirhen and Estarfin responded unfavorably. Lord Veryacano had said his final words on the subject and both warriors had no mind to oppose him. However, it did not mean that they would welcome it. Their only alternative was to endure it and voice their discontent in other ways.
“The best way I can see to compensate is to disable and gag her and leave her here where she can be no trouble.” Nirhen spit.
“Of course, Lord. If the lady wishes to follow, we would be glad to show her what it is that we do. In great detail.”
Estarfin’s last words rang like a threat in Eliriael’s ears. It would not be the last one she heard that evening.
