((OOC: This is a continuation of Near The Blue Mountains, In The End Of Summer and Dreams of the Past (part two) by Arvaryar.))
The Elf's body drifted downstream, lying on her back, not moving a limb.
The current carried her steadily, as lightly as twig. For a brief moment the Noldo closed her eyes, enjoying the weightlessness of floating...
But there was a task to be taken care of. Soon, the water was flowing into a bay, circling around a sandbank, depositing her on its limb.
She opened her eyes as if awakening from a dream, and looked around. Then, with a sudden certainty, she stood up and followed the curve of the sandbank upwards.
She found what she was looking for in the shade of a clump of pines, looking to all of the world like a bundle of flotsam deposited onto the branches by a flood. But she saw the glint of silver, and the traces of a track, all but washed away by the river and rains. Carefully, she walked up to it, bidding her horse closer and removing some supplies from its saddlebags.
"You are not dead, brother, and I know it."
She knelt down in the wet sand of the riverbank and turned the body around, sitting him up against the tree. Yes, there was a wound in his side - she cleaned it as well as she could with water from her canteen and pressed a bandage on it. Then she took a smaller flask, set it to his lips and dripped a sip into his mouth.
The Elf struggled in his sleep, whispered something unintelligible. She held him upright, touching his shoulder and calling his name.
"Arvaryar... Arvaryar of the Noldor. I call you."
He startled, his eyes opening. "Gli..." His eyes suddenly focused, recognising the elf before him. "Ah..."
Even in death, he thinks of her. The elf smirked wryly, facing the injured elf. "Brother. Wake now. Fear not."
He blinked as memory came back to him slowly. "By the Valar... I thought Mandos had his grip over me." He grimaced as he attempted to move and felt his wound.
Yendë smiled grimly. "Mandos cares not for our kind, brother..."
"Ah, he does... he laid his curse upon us, did he not?"
She nodded. "Now, move not... you are still hurt. I bound your wound but your body is still weak."
He obeyed, leaning back against the tree trunk and closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them again, regarding the warrior-maiden with a pondering look.
"Tis well... still, I wish you were here sooner."
"As do I. It is folly to walk into battle alone, brother." There was a hint of reproach in the Elf's eyes as she looked at her shield-brother.
"Ah, but I was not alone. I had a group of the finest Dwarven warriors by my side."
Yendë snorted. "Dwarves... But why prefer them over Noldo steel?"
The Elf's face became hard as stone. "I would prefer them over a whole house of our Noldor, mylady."
She looked at him, affronted.
His mine did not change. "I am speaking the truth. Our own kindred does naught but sit and play at politics, romance, trials - trials! over petty matters of discipline, while outside Imladris war is brewing."
Yende pondered for a while, for the truth of the Noldo's words had cut her heart. But she did not yet give up her icy demeanor. "And what would you do, would you command them?"
He smiled wryly. "I am no commander, and never was."
"Then you should not be so quick to question those who are." Her voice was still cold. But there was now a tinge of doubt in it, a softness in her frown that hinted at that she was agreeing more with his words than she let on.
He laughed harshly, then drew a long rattling breath. Clearly his wound was bothering him more than he wished to relate. "At least the Longbeards fight. I followed them, for I knew many of them would not return. A great opportunity..."
"To die."
Again he laughed. "My sister is wise! Yes, to die, and you are going to help me with it tonight."
She frowned, taken aback. "What do you wish me to do then? Leave you here? I am afraid, brother, that I cannot do that."
"Yes. I need you to tell everyone that you found me dead, beyond hope."
"Beyond hope I can see, brother... but not what broke your spirit. Are you not Noldo?"
He looked at her smiling. "You do not understand, but listen and I will reveal to you my plan. I shall gain freedom through death... false death, and you will be the instrument of it."
She tilted her head, but waited him out now.
"With your help, the enemy will not know that I am still alive, and I may perhaps find the one who corrupts our ranks from within."
He looked at her. "For the enemy has many spies that watch us closely... if these spies thought me dead, I might walk free for a time, and learn much."
She shook her head, so that drops of river-water flew through the air, glittering where they landed. "I cannot see the wisdom in this, brother. How would you catch an enemy within when you cannot walk within our ranks, when none may look at your face?"
"I have my plans... plans I cannot all reveal yet, and what you know I trust you will keep to yourself. I..." A cough interrupted him, and he fell silent.
Yendë looked at her shield-brother, the frown still on her face. She looked at his clothes, wetted through, and his wound which had lost much blood, and finally at his face, still fair as any Noldo but tired... worried.
She came to a conclusion. "Then tell me who I can trust."
He laughed, looking up again. "None but yourself!"
She nodded grimly. "So again the enemy has succeeded at seeding distrust in our own ranks...?" She sighed. "Brother... Lord Arvaryar. May I speak frankly?"
"I am no commander of yours. Speak your mind!"
She stood up straight, looking again cold and regal despite her wet clothes and hair, the Noldo battle-maiden. Her eyes were flashing. "Then I shall speak as soldier to soldier, for ever have I seen you as a shield-brother, though we did not serve in the same company.
You wish to go, leave your company and your oath behind, on a suspicion that I do not know, and that you will not tell. For a folly you leave behind rank, spear and your sworn brethren! Go! I will not stop you. I shall do as you wish, and report you dead."
She had paced the grass as she spoke, looking at the river. Now she stopped, looking at him again.
Then her stern frown broke into a smile, unexpected as sunrise in a snow-storm. "But neither will I see your effort lost.
I shall do as you wish, but I ask you to trust me and share your suspicions with me. See it as payment, if you wish..." She shook her head. "Nay, not as payment, for to go without a shield-brother in this effort is folly. You are wounded, and you may yet die without care. Do not place your trust in your strength alone, brother."
He looked at her in wonder. "Ah... you scorn me, lady, yet you seem to start thinking like me now."
Her smile had vanished from her face again. She was silent, waiting for him to speak.
"We do naught but dancing, flirting, singing, even making some petty trials....Yet they promised that we will fight and that we shall know glory, for years they promised! We keep hearing of the battles that await us. Retake Eregion, some say. Tear down the gates of Mordor, others. And yet we sit..."
"And yet we sit, and wait, while around us the battle rages."
He nodded. "And we lose our strength and might, and grow weaker with each passing day."
Yendë looked away. "I know not why our captains wait... All I know is our strength is needed now. Why, why do we not act?" Her voice was soft, pleading.
Then she caught herself. "But it is not our place to say so. We are those who are sent to die at the whim of the captains."
He waved impatiently. "I have fought enough wars to question my leaders. I am not young... neither are you. Remember your oath, sister!"
He said the oath, and she fell in, speaking her native tongue. "To protect the life of my kin... to fight the enemy with all my power..." Her voice faded.
"See? Never does it say not to question our leaders. If by leaving it means I can continue to fulfill my oath, it means they are breaking theirs."
She nodded, looking more pondering and doubtful now.
"Then will you help me?"
She shook her head. Again a proud look came to her face.
"Nay, brother... not while you still hide secrets from me. I would not defy one leader just to be led by someone else, blind. If this is to be, we must be brothers, as equals.
I know not yet if this is a fool's errant or not. But speak to me, brother, and I shall see for myself what is true and what is not."
He nodded and gestured for her to come closer. Then, with a soft voice, he spoke to her of his suspicions, moments of doubt that added up to greater whole.
She listened. It was a pact sworn between two shield-brothers, two soldiers... two Noldor.
When he was finished, she nodded. "I shall be watchful for you. Is there aught else you require?"
"Yes." He nodded and took a stone from his pocket, without adornments or signs that could be seen. "Bring this to a Dwarf who dwells near Thorin's Hall by the name of Allrin. Speak this to him: 'The sun will rise above the mountain' and he will know that the message is from me, and what to do. You write Dwarf-runes? Good. Then you will report to him with aught that you learn, he is trustworthy."
At this the Noldo lady frowned again. "Three can keep a secret if two are dead, brother. I shall speak only to you."
"I trust this Dwarf more than I trust some Eldar, and his kin is strong."
"Still, a mind may be broken, and a letter intercepted. Nay, send me word, through him or others, I care not, and I shall meet you in person."
He sighed. "This will be difficult. Still, if this is your last word... I shall send word when you least expect it."
She nodded. "So it shall be, brother."
"Thank you, my sister, your noble deeds will not be forgotten."
"Spying is hardly noble."
"It is for a noble cause!"
"That is yet to be seen."
He frowned again, pulling himself up on the branches of the tree. "Now, do you have an extra sword?"
Yendë shook her head, gesturing to the swords on her side. "I cannot give these to you, brother. But I have brought that which you sent me."
She walked over to her horse and took the heavy war-hammer from its saddle, handing it to the warrior.
"Also provisions, and more bandages. I am afraid my armour will not fit you, but you have your own."
He grinned. "Ah, my hammer, splendid! With it, I may be able to tear down the gate of Mordor... Nail by Nail."
She chuckled, grinning back. "You may yet. But at that time, let me be by your side... I would not let you have all the fun!"
"If we both survive to that."
She nodded. "Aye. It is not night yet, brother."
He nodded as well in silence, girthing himself. For a while, none of them spoke.
When he was done, they stood, looking at each other.
"Is that it, then?"
He spoke softly, looking out to the water: "Say you put me on a wooded log and let me sail to the open sea. That way, no-one will come look for me."
"I shall. Good luck, brother."
"Go to the blue mountain and deliver that stone."
"I shall do that also. Where shall I find word of you?"
"It would not be wise for me to stray too close to the vale. If I pass by on my way to the lands of the enemy, look for word in the place of Three Trolls... you will recognize it when you see it."
She nodded curtly.
"Then I shall take my leave of you now. Good luck and farewell, sister."
"Farewell, brother."
He smiled and walked off lightly, despite his wounds. "It is a good day to be dead!"
