The Littlest Warrior

The forests of Imladris were unusually quiet, an uneasy silence had descended on the trees, and the sky began to cloud over. Not the usual light puffy white wisps, but dark grey, brooding clouds that seemed to appear out of nowhere. They rolled in from the south, and brought with them an unexpected rain. Skies that only moments before were clear and bright, now turned dark and ominous, as if they originated in the very bowels of Mordor itself. The rain began as a light pittering on the leaves and grass, and within minutes changed into a full-fledged downpour that sent even the hardiest of animals scurrying to find cover.

As the wind picked up, the residents of the last homely house began rushing to close doors that had been left open for the light spring breeze, and laundry maids hurried to remove the wash from the lines before it became drenched. Chambermaids hastened from room to room shuttering the windows as the black clouds rolled ever closer, and the Lord of Imladris pulled closed the draperies that hung on the windows of the healing wing, while Vilya silently throbbed against his finger. Closing the window covering, he stood there for a moment quietly contemplating the sudden appearance of the storm. He twirled the blue ring round and round his finger not wanting to believe what he knew to be true; evil…some evil was attempting to gain entry into his realm.

Glancing back over his shoulder, there was no doubt in his mind that it had something to do with the elf that now lay so helpless in his infirmary. The young one was being stalked, like some unfortunate two legged prey…someone, some thing was hunting him; trying to finish the task it started. Elrond turned abruptly from the window and strode purposefully from the room into the corridor. Stopping the first elf he came upon he issued his orders in a tone that left no doubt as to his frame of mind.
“Find the Lords Glorfindel and Erestor and send them to my study at once, I will also need to see Haldir and his brothers…and if they are not up – wake my sons.”

The great elf lord never broke stride, the determination in his step was obvious as he continued down the hallway heading straight for the chamber of his Master of Swords…Cilinwë.

As the clouds grew darker and closer, rumblings of thunder were heard coming from the outskirts of the previously peaceful Elven realm. The reverberating sound became ever louder and within moments of the thunder announcing its presence, the crack of lightning like the harsh snap of some huge white whip was seen lighting up the sky. Foxes and rabbits dodged back to their burrows and even the more tenacious creatures like the badgers and beavers sought cover in their dens. The uncomfortable turbulence in the air affected even the usually steadfast horses, and Colwandë, the long-time stable master had his hands full trying to calm the agitated stallions.

Elrohir’s stallion Gaer-sûl (Sea Wind) repeatedly pawed the ground in his enclosure, while his twin Gaer-âr (Sea King) paced nervously back and forth. Asfaloth, who, on a good day, was considered to be the most high-spirited and cantankerous horse of the lot, had backed himself into a corner of his stall, ears pinned back against his head and nostrils flared as if he was trying to hide from some heretofore unseen danger. Colwandë was at a loss to explain it; he was just about to cross to the other side of the stable when two more horses came barreling into the enclosure. Erestor’s black Sûl-linnon (Wind Singer) and Elrond’s bay mare Barandir (Brown Wanderer).

Calling on help from his squires, they began entering each stall trying desperately to quiet the animals. Most were easily settled, however, the three big stallions and the finicky mare were having none of it. Each time the gate to his stall was opened, Gaer-sûl reared as if preparing to strike and Gaer-âr charged the fence, threatening to run over anyone entering his stall - and the rain poured ever harder. From his balcony doors, Haldir watched the heavy rain turn into a torrential downpour. As he stood there observing the dramatic change in the weather, his brother Rúmil approached and quietly stood at his side taking it all in.

“Have you ever seen the like of it Haldir?”

“No Rúmil, I have not. It is my understanding that Lord Elrond does not…’control’ things here as they are controlled in Lothlórien.”

“You mean…?”

“Yes Rúmil, like our lady he has the power to do so and chooses to give nature her head…this storm is not of his doing.”

“It does not look as though Mother Nature had anything to do with it either.”

“No, my brother it does not, you are observant as always…this is not the work of anything natural.”

“Tell me that I am mistaken in my thinking Haldir. It could not be that Andras’ attacker…”

“We are of the same mind little brother, whatever ‘thing’ attacked Andras, whatever it was, it possesses great power to be able to do what it did to him. I believe it has tracked us here to Imladris.”

“But there was nothing…no one on the trail…I swear to you Haldir I was vigilant and I saw no one.”
Haldir placed his hand on Rúmil’s shoulder in a calming gesture and replied, “Peace little brother, peace…I did not say it to cast aspersions on your ability as a sentry, I know only too well that there is little that escapes your eye…very little. No brother, this thing whatever it is, kept well away from us; I am sure of that, we were too many for it. At the village it had only to contend with untrained, sleeping farmers…”

“…and innocents who had no hope of defending themselves,” Rúmil added forlornly.

“Exactly, this time it was confronted with a contingent of well armed warriors, and it kept its distance.” Staring out at the pouring rain, Haldir mulled over this revelation. This was information that Lord Elrond needed to know immediately, waiting until all were rested for a formal transfer of their duties to the House of Elrond was no longer an option. Turning away from the balcony doors he hurried to pull on his tunic and looked for his boots as he spoke.

“Hurry Rúmil, get dressed, we must seek an audience with Lord Elrond at once, this threat, like the storm, is growing nearer. I do not know why this enemy has singled out Andras…perhaps it was only dumb luck that brought the two of them together, but it is obvious to me now that whoever or whatever this is seeks to finish the work that it started.”

“Then we must stop him!” Rúmil said angrily.

“Fear not little brother that is exactly what we will do, no more harm will come to Andras, an oath we have sworn, and an oath we will fulfill.”

Strapping on his dagger and slipping another in the top of his boot Rúmil was grim faced as he strode toward the door, “I will fetch Orophin and meet you outside Lord Elrond’s apartments.”

“Good, hurry brother, I believe this storm to be a harbinger of things to come, and we must be ready.”

“We will be,” Rúmil said as he moved through the open door heading for the room that Orophin shared with Timagol, “…we will be.