The Littlest Warrior

Lady Nilya slumped against the table, ‘This time,’ she thought, ‘I do not think I am going to be lucky’, and just as quickly as the thought had come, she passed out in the middle of the kitchen floor. Perwaen’s protective gaze had been following her steps since the first occurrence earlier in the day and again she took charge of the kitchen and the lady. Cradling Nilya in her arms she called for a cool cloth and gingerly pressed it to her forehead and neck. Gently patting her cheek she called to her in an attempt to revive her. “Please milady, awaken,” she said desperately. “Lady Nilya…Lady Nilya!”

“There is no need to shout child,” came the groggy response, “I am not deaf.”

A collective sigh of relief escaped the lips of the kitchen staff, for although they had not moved from their respective stations, they had, none of them taken their eyes off the lady from the moment she hit the floor.

“Send Thorodir for a healer!” Perwaen called out.

“No,” the lady instructed, “have him come in here to me, I will need his help – this time I will go to Elrond.”
~~~~~~~~~~

Haldir carried Estel gently to his bed. The little one had tired himself out so completely that he was not roused from his sleep when the door to his room slipped from Haldir’s hand and closed a little too loudly causing the Galadhel to start. Carefully he lowered the child onto the bed and began to remove his tiny suede boots. With the footwear removed he attempted to get the child out of his tunic and leggings without waking him, no easy task, even for one as experienced with sleepy-headed children as Haldir. He lifted one little arm and then the other and was reminded of a time when his brothers were this size, especially Orophin, who would often fall asleep in his lap. He remembered well how the toddler would pull himself to a standing position using one of his trouser legs to help balance himself, then grin from ear to ear at his accomplishment while reaching up to his brother’s loving arms for comfort.

He remembered fondly how he cherished those moments, even Rúmil, who though older than Orophin, could be counted on to find his way to Haldir’s lap whenever he was overly tired or upset. Halli’s lap; the one place in all of Arda that was safe from orcs, and dragons, and all those dark horrid things that go bump in the night.

He settled the boy just shy of the center of the bed then quickly drew off his own tunic, toed off his boots and settled down next to him. As he turned onto his side and began to get comfortable Estel suddenly sat up in a sleepy haze. Looking groggily around the room he finally pointed to the foot of the bed and asked for “Nif.” In the semi-darkened room Haldir’s first reaction was confusion, but knowing how children often like to sleep with something soft next to them he scanned the room for what Estel’s ‘something’ might be. Finally, he spied the tattered little white rabbit hanging off the end of the bed. Next to it lay a soft yellow blanket, obviously made specifically for a child, so, anticipating what was bound to be Estel’s next request, he grabbed both. Handing the rabbit to the child he watched as Estel cuddled up right next to him with Nif clutched tight to his chest.

“Halli?” he whispered.

“Yes…”

“Halli will you braid my hair like yours?”

“Estel, have not your adar or your brothers explained how you may get your braids?” he said as he ran his fingers through the child’s soft dark curls.

“Ada said I hafta wait until I am older, but Ima be older weal soon Halli, I havin’ a birt-day.”

“Really?”

“Yup, I gonna be dis many years old,” he said holding up four tiny grubby little fingers. It was only then that Haldir realized he probably should have washed him up a little before he put him down.

“Westor said that I must be older and I must ‘prove’ myself. I gonna be older Halli, but I don’ know how to prove me yet.”

The Galadhel just smiled, “Do not worry over it little one, when the time comes you will know what to do – I am sure of it.” As he moved to cover the babe with the blanket he was further surprised as Estel took the side of the pastel cloth and carefully arranged it over Haldir’s waist and hip.

“Night-night Halli,” the child whispered as he protectively patted the Warden’s chest.

“Sweet dreams little one,” the warden replied as he kissed the top of the child’s head “Rest well.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel ushered Elrond into the private anteroom next door to the infirmary and had just helped him into a chair when an agitated knock, followed by an excited voice came at the door.

“Lord Elrond! Milord!”

“Enter!” Glorfindel called out as he eased Elrond into the seat. No sooner had the elf lord begun to raise his head but the door flung open to reveal Thorodir carrying Lady Nilya with Perwaen in frightened pursuit. The trio stopped short, just inside the door, when they noticed the pained expression that covered the great lord’s face. Perwaen rushed forward as the Lady Nilya made her displeasure known once again…

“Put me down you young upstart! I said I needed assistance, not that I need to be carried around as though I was still in swaddling clothes.”

Completely un-phased Thorodir responded, “It will serve you naught to argue Milady, that is the second time today you have fainted in those kitchens, and until our Lord Elrond says differently you will be held right here in my arms for safety.”

The lady was not pleased, and although she continued to bluster, she could not help but be proud of the young elf that held her so securely. Thorodir was one of her ‘lads’, one of the many young elves that she’d taken under her protective wing. With parents who’d sailed almost 200 years past, the house sentry had, at one time, become quite solitary and withdrawn, preferring the confines of his room to the company of others – that is until the Lady began her nurturing, mothering ways. Within a very short amount of time she had him back in the social circle of his friends – and now here he was defiantly caring for her – it warmed her heart to know that she too was loved like a mother.

“What is this about fainting?” Glorfindel queried.

“The lady has fainted twice this morn in the kitchens,” Perwaen supplied.

“Twice you say?”

“Yes, both times came upon her quite suddenly, and the second time she was not able to keep herself from falling…she nearly fell into the hot stove.”

Nilya however, was not about to be made to seem like an invalid and quickly leapt to her own defense.

“Do not be dramatic child, – I was in no danger of hitting the stove.”

“But you could have,” Thorodir challenged, “…and do not glare at me lady mother…if you will not take care of yourself then you leave us no choice but to do it in your stead. I fault myself for not acting sooner, I should have brought you straight away to Lord Elrond the moment you fell dizzy this morn!” Nilya made to speak, but was further reprimanded by the young sentry.

“Ah, ah, ah…do not say another word - I will not be intimidated by you this day Milady, and you will please to hold still – lest you unsettle yourself again, and I will hear no more of this nonsense about how well you feel.” Completely taken aback, Nilya defiantly folded her arms across her chest and gave the young sentry her best scowl. Glorfindel smiled at the strapping young elf, glad to see that someone had taken the reins and pulled his friend of many centuries into line.

“Good for you young one, she is always cranky when she does not get her way – but do not let that dissuade you. And do not put faith in that fairytale she tells about ‘feeling fine’ – the Valar know I have certainly heard enough of that tale in the past few days to last me yet another lifetime.” “
This one,” he said as he nodded in the direction of Elrond, “…has given my already frayed nerves quite a tug over the last two days.”

“Frayed nerves?” An affronted Elrond’s eyebrow quickly rose, “What reason could you possibly have for frayed nerves living in a place as peaceful as Imladris?”

“Dost thee forget with whom I abide?”

Slowly rising from the chair Elrond moved towards Nénilya as he answered, “Say no more my friend, we have already had a taste of that once today – I would not wish you to further indict yourself in that regard, you already have enough to pay for before the day is over.”

“You have never spoken more truly mellon nín, but the question now is how are you really feeling?”

“Do not trouble yourself over me Glorfindel; the wind was momentarily taken from me but the pain is gone now. Whatever that thing is out there it grows closer…and the closer it gets the stronger the feeling of evil becomes.”

“Aye…,” added Nilya, “I too have experienced the evil, it seems to wash over you – it literally took my breath away, that is why I fainted, it was as if my entire being was suddenly…wrapped in evil.”

“Yes…engulfed – that is exactly how I felt!” Elrond exclaimed excitedly. Aware now that she was not the only person to experience the phenomena Nilya felt compelled to be forthcoming.

“Elrond…,” she hesitated at first, then just blurted it out, “Elrond, when I fainted in the kitchen this morning it was not the first time.”

“What?” Perwaen’s shocked voice silenced the room. Appearing embarrassed, Nilya, red-faced, and a little less feisty continued, “The first time it happened was last night…I was alone in my room and that overwhelming feeling of dread came upon me…I was dizzy – not like this morning or just now," she hastened to add, "but lightheaded nonetheless.”

“I knew it!” Perwaen exclaimed, “I knew you were keeping something from me.”

“And me!” Thorodir added angrily. Shamefaced Nilya looked at the pair lovingly, “I was not ‘deliberately’ trying to keep anything from either of you, at the time I just did not think it serious enough to mention.”

“Well now we know differently!” Thorodir exclaimed.

“Yes…” she said sheepishly, “…now we know.”

As the three continued to bicker back and forth over the Lady concealing her condition, Elrond again took a seat and Glorfindel moved to the wine cabinet to pour everyone what he hoped would be, a calming glass of sherry. As the elf lord watched the amusing tableau play out before him his attention was once again drawn to the view outside the terrace doors. His eyes scanned the vista and his heart began to pound ever harder in his chest. He did not wish to alarm his friends, but this enemy was closer than it had ever been, he could feel it; and a quick glance at Glorfindel told him that the balrog slayer was on to him. The commander continued to make light conversation with the bickering threesome, but at the same time he moved to the terrace and closed the doors. With a knowing look at Elrond he quietly threw the bolt that secured the doors shut, then rejoined the group, giving the worried lord a reassuring pat on the shoulder and whispering as he passed.

“All will be well my friend…I promise you.”

Three days had passed since the rescue patrol left the gates of Imladris to retrieve their sentries from the Eastern and Western outposts. According to plan, Braneth split the group into two patrols sending Rilloth, Panír and Imril to the Western outpost and taking Malrin, Geleph and the less experienced Golros with him to the Eastern watchtower. The elves wasted no time weaving their way through the forests of Rivendell, the way was well known to them and their horses traversed the paths with practiced accuracy. The pace they set was fast, and Golros, who was unused to traveling by horseback, was hard pressed to keep up. The newly promoted instructor was somewhat embarrassed by his lack of equestrian skill, and vowed that if he could just make it through the day he would have master Colwandë pick out a suitable mount for him and sign up immediately for riding classes. At the moment he just hoped that he wasn’t slowing the rescue party down too much. ‘Funny how that works,’ he thought, ‘I wonder if they even realize that they need rescuing.’

As they drew closer to the outpost his thoughts were displaced by a scent on the wind of potatoes and carrots. Someone up ahead was preparing dinner and it smelled wonderful. He was only now realizing that he had not eaten since the day before yesterday and his stomach was empty. Although it was true that elves could go for longer periods of time without eating, the Lady Nilya had long ago dubbed him with a moniker she’d heard the humans use when referring to their always hungry children – something called a ‘bottomless pit’. She claimed that he was the only elf she’d ever met who could eat non-stop and still have room for more; teasing him that he ate like a Hobbit.

So embarrassed was he at the thought of it, that he went on a fast for a week refusing to even look at food – until his wife Adril, petitioned the Lady to allow her to make a special meal to entice Golros back to the table. The mere thought of that wonderful meal had his mouth watering, and he wondered now if they would have enough time to eat while the three outpost sentries packed up their belongings for the ride home.

Elsewhere, four determined horsemen were speedily making their way home. Two from Rohan and two from Mirkwood, each hoping that their journey would be not only swift but also fruitful. Little did they know, that between them they held the salvation of both victims, and that before it was over at least one more life would hang in the balance.