Rebellion: with Love
Cloven-hoofed and graven draped, Isoldis turned to walk away from her company, shirking her shadow of shock like the casting aside of an unwanted cloak. “I will put everything in order before he leaves; and prepare to cross the Great Sea when he return...” Her last words rebounded inside her mind and she gritted her teeth with frustration at herself. Why had she not shown more courage in the face of the enemy?
The enemy was called Galdorion and the small group of friends were utterly baffled by the lady’s agreement to help him; she owed him nothing! In fact, she could have easily revelled in his misery and enjoyed his pathetic pleas for help that would have sated her daily craving to drive her heart to stone. Not hours before, he had been publically stripped of his privileges and fallen into disfavour among the various ranks of Bar en Vanimar after disobeying direct orders to stay in the valley, endangering the life of a comrade who had been on a reconnaissance mission into the Misty Mountains to boot. Apparently Galdorion had been on his own private mission to rescue his friend Rainith who had been reported missing inside the belly of the mountain, but somehow he had taken a wrong turn and ended up in the goblin infested caves instead. Galdorion was taken captive whilst the comrade managed to escape and raise the alarm back at Imladris. Vanimarians were immediately manoeuvred into action and a successful rescue achieved.
Yet, hours later there he was, still going on about completing his heart’s mission to find Rainith, and begging for help. And if Galdorion’s continued insubordination would be a lesser crime given his lowly status among the ranks of Vanimar, Isoldis was a completely different matter. She had pledged her oath to Bar en Vanimar not a few weeks ago, vowing to stay among her kind even though she despised the Tûr Anglachelm. Yes, she despised him! They saw not eye to eye on a single subject and were still squabbling viciously over who was to blame for Lord Mittanyaro’s injuries. Mittanyaro had since fully recovered, yet Isoldis was marked ill in the Tûr’s eyes and when she took her oath, it was for the love of her kinsfolk, and not Anglachelm! In fact, she had openly avowed to hate the Tûr on a daily basis for which he had replied contemptuously: Rabbits run at the foot of the mountain Isoldis, but the mountain does not even notice them.
Since then, all Vanimarians had been summoned to Imladris under the Tûr’s orders and as such, agreeing to help Galdorion travel into Khazad-Dûm could only paint Isoldis’ contumacy in maleficent colours. She knew there would be no hiding such sedition from Anglachelm: eventually he would learn of the secret mission, no matter how witless Isoldis believed him to be in his aging years, he still commanded loyal troops. Thus, if Galdorion ever returned to the vale, victorious or otherwise, there would be no avoiding the ensuing reprimand upon Isoldis that would undoubtedly have her ready to sail west.
Why had she not shown more courage in the face of Galdorion?
“Know that I do this because...beneath this mask of cold...I wished that I had what you have. As much as my heart is full of hate, I would cling to a single day filled with love...if it were given to me.”
