Green blades of grass caressed the elleth's bare feet as she walked across the clearing before swaying back into their upright stance as if no one had passed by. The mellyrn leaves high above in the canopy changed the lighting of the forest floor and illuminated the strains of gold in her hair. For once, it was not held up close to her ears with tiny jeweled pins and ornaments. Only starry white flowers graced the crown of her head, as her long tresses freely cascaded down her back.
The sentry at the garden gate, being acutely observant and never forgetting a face, recognized Eliriael and let her through with a brief bow of his head. A smile had been upon her lips since their entrance into the Golden Wood and the beauty of the Lady's garden only brightened it further.
"Eithelmîr," she called out softly, glancing around and lifting her robes as she descended the stairs.
A silver-haired elleth, busy with pruning a nearby bush, lifted her head in response. Her gasp betrayed her surprise as she lay down her tool and rushed over to greet her friend. "You did not tell me you were returning!"
"I am only passing through on an errand to the Greenwood," Eliriael replied with an apologetic tone.
Eithelmîr's expression fell. "Such a dangerous place? What errand could take you there?"
Eliriael gently grasped Eithelmîr's hands in hers and led her to sit on a bench. There, she explained Eleanias' search for the Anvelain mushroom or anything else that might be useful to cure the poisons her kin suffered from.
"You know they call the woods Mirkwood now, for it is much changed. Only foul things are rumored to grow and dwell there. Evil hangs in the air like a thick cloud. Do you think anything so good as Anvelain could grow there any longer?"
Eliriael pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. "My kinsmen are willing to search for any possibilities. Poisons have been taking the lives of many Malledhrim, has already taken one of our warriors in the valley, and threatens to take yet another now." The gravity of the situation was apparent in her saddened eyes and soft voice.
Eithelmîr nodded and squeezed her friend's hand to comfort her. Eliriael had changed much, too. Still delicate of feature and movement, but not as carefree. Perhaps the war had that effect upon everyone. Yet, it was most unexpected in Eliriael, whose countenance seldom marked differences of mood and the weight of suffering. Her brow dipped slightly and her eyes spoke of earthly concerns instead of being uplifted towards the star-lit sky as was her usual wont.
After glancing around them at the flourishing flora, Eliriael asked, "Do you think a plant of Mirkwood could take root here?" She reached out and gently touched a leaf on the bush beside her. The influence and power of the Lady was especially strong in her garden, where clear and pure waters flowed. It had a wholesome air and soil, entirely unlike the one that existed in Mirkwood, that could bring life and the best nourishing qualities to almost any growing plant. For such reasons, many of the healer's herbs and flowers were grown here.
Eithelmîr followed her friend's gaze to the leaf. "I do not see why not, as long as it is cleaned in the Anduin before being brought here." Starlight from above reflected in her eyes as she scanned their surroundings with reverence. "I will ask the Lady for permission and find you tomorrow. The others and I had already been discussing such an idea for some time now. If everything in Mirkwood withers and dies, what will be left of those lands that existed once before? Some of the others are quite adamant about undertaking the preservation of the Greenwood's seeds. Yet, few are willing to cross into such risk, leaving the safety of their home, for the sake of collecting a few herbs." Eithelmîr smiled sheepishly.
Eliriael's usual smile returned to her face at this news. "I will bring back as much as I may, then. My heart is very glad you were here this evening," she added after a moment as she stood to leave. "I must return to my kinsmen, as we are leaving early tomorrow."
"Be safe, Eliriael, and may the Valar watch over your path," Eithelmîr whispered as she anxiously watched her old friend wave and glide back up the steps towards the garden entrance. "Coming unexpectedly and leaving with the next breeze," she sighed to herself in her thoughts. There were some things war did not change, and perhaps for that, she should be grateful.
