The Marchwarden's Command

Having found rest among the Galadhrim at Echad Andestel, Minnwen, Forvonir and Harvonir awaken refreshed. Ambendel, the spokesperson among their hosts, greets them with news that they are soon to make a short journey ...

Ambendel makes a soft, high-pitched whistle like the call of a songbird, and a small company of Galadhrim sentinels materialises from the surrounding forest. Dressed, as before, in light clothing resembling the colours of the woodland, they look expectantly at Ambendel. 'The Marchwarden is ready to see you,' the spokesman continues.

Forvonir nods. 'Then we follow our guiding group. We thank you for your hospitality.' He bows again.

Ambendel holds up his hand, gently but firmly. 'We do not allow strangers outside this camp, so I entreat you Men to wear these blindfolds. My sentinels shall take you safely to the falls, and there the Marchwarden's escorts will meet us to continue the journey. It is not far.' He puts two strips of fabric, soft yet opaque, in Forvonir's hand.

Forvonir gives one blindfold to Harvonir, ties it up, and orders Harvonir to follow him. He obeys and covers his eyes as well.

Minnwen murmurs a polite objection. 'My friends are of Númenorean descent, Hír Ambendel ... and I trust them.' But Ambendel insists, speaking a soft apology in Sindarin, 'These are our rules, Híril.'

The company sets off presently, crossing the stream at its shallowest, the Sentinels helping to guide the Men's steps. Ahead, Minnwen and Ambendel stop again. 'Here, another crossing, where the ancient bridge is broken.'

Forvonir nods 'Well, that is unfortunate. But I think we will be able to pass through it.''

Minnwen smiles. ''Tis a shame you may not see it now, but perhaps the sound of the waterfall roars in your ears. Come, let us cross.'

Minnwen and Ambendel arrive at the foot of one of the tallest trees, and the sentinels untie the strips of cloth around Forvonir's and Harvonir's eyes. Minnwen waves farewell as the company turns to go, scattering as quickly and silently as they had arrived back at Echad Andestel. Another pair of Galadhrim, guarding a ladder of rope, welcome the trio. 'The Marchwarden awaits.' Minnwen gestures to the Men to ascend ahead of her.

At the top of the ladder, a sturdy and spacious platform built into the topmost mallorn branches affords a spectacular view of the Golden Wood and the Nimrodel Falls. Now that the Men can see, Minnwen is reminded of the sad tale of the maiden for whom the falls are named.

Standing close to them, Hadroneth, a fair elfmaiden with golden hair nods. 'He was Amroth, a king of this very land, Lórien. And the maid he loved - ' She breaks into lilting verse, '- as light As leaf of linden-tree. Beside the falls of Nimrodel, By water clear and cool, Her voice as falling silver fell Into the shining pool.'

Forvonir looks back at the falls. 'I see, so it is a story of love, and this place and this water is a memento of that.'

Turning to Haldir, Forvonir steps forward to make introductions. Although Minnwen is known to the Galadhrim, however, Haldir tasks the Men with proving their loyalty. 'The land is infested, thanks to the growing threat from Moria and from beyond the Anduin. We must cleanse these lands. Help my subordinates, and I shall grant you entrance to our lands. Until then, this flet and Echad Andestel can be your home.'

Descending back into the vale, Minnwen draws her blade, gasping as it gleams bright. 'Yrch!' And so begins their indenture at the borders of Lothlórien, thinning the enemy's ranks in aid of the Galadhrim.

#Lothlórien #Haldir #talan #flet