And that is why I became a cook. It gave me the chance to never be far from Carnifinde, yet to be someone who could pass her by unnoticed. It was vastly different from the life of the Huntress I had been, but I came to find I enjoyed the preparations, the choice for meals, the learning of which herbs and spices brought out the best in any meal. I enjoyed seeing people happy. Mirima was the chief cook at that time. She was one who sailed over in the ships, one from Aman. And ever did we hear, ‘that is how it was done in Tirion, or that is nowhere near as good as it was in Tirion,’ from her. Her standards were high. So it was that I was taught well.
Raumoliro, the steadfast, joined me within a week. He took up the work of a Farrier, another familiar yet easy not to truly see face. In due course we were joined by the shoemaker, Laicion, from Ambarussa, and Nolye, a tailoress, from Maedhros. It was a strange fate for us all, in those days at Amon Ereb, yet we understood our duty, had little hardship watching without being seen, and found good company with each other.
Sometimes I miss those days.
~ ~ ~
Now I set off from my sister’s home in Imladris some few hours after Danel, Estarfin and Parnard departed. I knew the weather could well be inclement, but there was nothing for it but to follow. I was well rested, if a little slow from my sister’s food provision. It was good to see her again, but even better to be on the road. So I travelled through the mountains, to the High Pass, ever alert for goblins or wargs. I found a few sites where there had been some sort of skirmish, but none looked as if they had involved Elvish weapons or skills. The small group of dead goblin scouts covered in axe blows shouted ‘Dwarves’, and the two wargs ripped apart by some large bear-like creature shouted something else. I arrived at Vindurhal in the late evening, with the sun already disappeared below the mountains.
There was a usual group assembled there. Mostly Dwarves, with two Elven traders and a large Man from the Andune Vale. I hailed them, and they hailed me in return.
“Welcome traveller. There is room around the fire for you.”
I took them up on their offer, and took out some of my own travelling provisions to share.
“Not Elf-bread I hope?” asked one of the Dwarves.
“Nay, not for you at any rate. This I will share with my brothers, if they wish?”I looked up at the two Elves standing in the shelter of the wall. They both shook their heads, but thanked me. I drew out two very large pastry rolls filled to the brim with cooked pork and sage. “But this I am happy to share with you?”
The Dwarf beamed with delight. Others gathered round and, well I had expected it, they finished the roll. Then they offered me some cold sausages and a mug of warmed ale. It was a fair exchange I thought, and I had more food still packed away.
I asked if they had seen any other elves pass this way. They all nodded. One of the Dwarves closest the fire said there had been three elves who had departed a few hours earlier.
“They kept to themselves though,” Another added. “One there didn’t seem to like our company.”
“Tall, broad of shoulder, lots of thick, wild black hair,” I suggested.
They nodded. “You know him, lass?”
“Oh yes.”
“And the Lady, Danel of Thargelion I believe, with a Woodelf,” one of the traders turned from his conversation to address me.
I smiled and nodded my thanks.
“You should rest here a few hours, but then ride as hard as you may. They are heading East, towards the Vale of the Andune, and it is better to pass that way in numbers than alone.”
I thanked him but pointed down the steps to where my horse stood, covered in a thick blanket and with her nose in a bag of oats. “My horse and my bow will see me through most places, my long knives through the rest. Thank you for your concern, but I can look after myself.”
It was in no way an ill-mannered talk, and soon enough I took the opportunity of a guarded rest among others. I drifted into semi-sleep.
For the first time since Eregion I felt..uncertain?
We four guardians had swiftly developed a sort of sense of when danger drew nigh, some of it was down to our naturally observant natures, some to a refinement of that other Hunter’s sense. At least one of us had always known when Carnifinde was in danger, and we had moved accordingly.
Nolye had helped usher her to the safety of her cousins and their wandering company just before Caranthir departed for his fatal journey to Doriath, with many of his people. Laicion the bold had intervened, drawing her to a different group before her third set of companions moved into battle, knowing their courage was great, but their plans flawed. There had been at least a dozen occasions in the War of Wrath, when one of us had slain an enemy before they could slay her. She was a most competent warrior herself, she was well trained, and gained in skill over time, but she had not eyes in the back of her head, no matter how keen her hearing. We watched her back, still loyal to our Princes, even after they fell. After all, an oath is an oath.
Then the War ended. We had lost Nolye in battle. We mourned, but continued our mission, thinking to ever remain loyal. There were still groups of orcs and goblins about, and the race of Men was becoming far more numerous. Many were honourable, but some were not. Still, our ‘princess’ was no fool. She stayed with her most recent wandering group and her cousins for some decades, then spent some further time in Lindon until she followed Lord Celebrimbor to Eregion. And there she found peace for some time. We all found peace for a few hundred years. We took up new lives even as the land prospered. A new Kingdom of the Noldor, though the Sindar were also made welcome. And then we lost Laicion, stupidly, in a building collapse. He should not have been there at the time, but went to see a client who dwelt nearby. The building should not have collapsed. It was built by master masons, after all.
So then it was just Raumoliro and I.
I started having doubts we could protect her, that I could protect Carnifinde. Several times I sent call to Raumoliro that we should move closer to her, that she was in danger, but she was not. Later I understood I was sensing the effects of Annatar among us. I was mistaking his great evil for imminent danger. Raumoliro sensed it not. Or rather, he trusted Celebrimbor that all would be well. Then the worst happened.
And I was restless in my sleep. Not that something of the level of the Fall of Eregion was about to occur, but that I had made a mistake. In some manner I was off course. I knew without a doubt that serious danger lay ahead. But what if it was not on the journey to Mirkwood?
Waking fully, I rose to my feet and, bidding thank you and farewell to the Dwarves, Elves and Man, made for my mare. I would close the distance between the three travellers and myself. When asked, the two Elves said Danel’s group had taken the path along the valley. It drew dangerously near some of the Goblin camps, but took half the time of the Mountain Path. So I rode forth, down the steep incline, avoiding a few roaming wolves, and on through the clusters of leafless trees, heading east. The snow was firm enough that I could make some speed. I just needed to remain alert. Soon enough I was nigh the goblin camps. There was a choice…to try and pass undetected, or to shoot down the two nearest sentries. The unseen path was the better choice, that though it would slow me, none would know I had passed. Slow indeed, but my mare was used to travelling unseen. She made no sound, not even when an icy overhang fell from some height rather close by. Then the ascent along the mountainside that led to the Pass to the Vale of the Andune was ahead. I halted for a few moments only, too cold it was to remain still. But my thoughts went back to my departure from Numenstaya. The Sinda, Hithaeriel, had followed me some way, then turned off heading North. Why she had asked for the job at the house only to keep to herself and depart at the same time as I was a mystery. I had thought her strangely aloof, but I was beginning to wonder if it was not something more? She had stayed away from Danel and Estarfin when possible, and spent what little time she did in company with Barahirn and Aearlinn. They would have appeared as lower level servants to her. And they were both very young. What had she been about? It plagued me that I had let her dwell at Numenstaya for that short time without finding out more about her.
And the mountain path went on, above the ruins of a Giant’s settlement, though none of them roamed nearby. At the least, it was hard to miss a Giant! The snow was marked in places, and I knew I was catching up. Three travellers on horseback had passed that way less than four hours earlier. Close, but not too close.
There was a dip in the path, then a rise to a narrow passing point, where one of the Vale’s bear-men stood guard. Tall, broad, wearing thick brown furs, he was hardly distinguishable from the animal. I hailed him, and asked about other travellers.
He nodded, and confirmed two Elf-Men and an Elf-Woman had passed by but a short time earlier, in his heavy accent.
I thanked him, and rode on. And then it struck me like a shield blow.
He was one of the Bear-men. Beorn, the shapeshifter was a true bear-man, one who had long dwelt in the Vales. He could appear as a Man or as a bear, though the bear was more dangerous by far.
I remembered thinking when Hithaeriel pursued me, ‘She makes so much noise, she cannot be an elf.’
And that was the mystery, or part of it. She was no Elf!
