°∴,*⋅✲✦ ( ♕ ) ✦✲⋅*,∴°

━━━━ »•» act two. age of shadow

25. duty unto death «•« ━━━━

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ third age ━━ year 3019

𓇻 lothlórien; northern border

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STRANGE HOW TIME COULD CHANGE PEOPLE. How two opposites of a coin, when forced to work together, would learn to appreciate and care for each other. Despite, or perhaps because, of their differences. How rare to have met someone who becomes a part of your very soul, inseparable. How rare to feel their joy as if it was yours, or their pain as if it were your own...

Elgarain had forgotten how to breathe. A black shadow held her lungs captive, slowly squeezing the air from her body. The sight of Gyda's pale skin beneath the moonlight made her sway on her feet. For a moment she had turned back into that young Elleth in need of constant protection and reassurance from the Head of her Guard. But many years had passed since then. She was no longer helpless and naïve. Gyda had made sure of that.

"Put her on her side," she instructed Legolas as she rushed forward. Her voice taking on the formal and calming tone of a capable healer.

She fell on her knees beside the prince of Mirkwood, who hadn't even heard her. His skin was almost as pale as that of her friend. His eyes wide and worried, unable to look away from Gyda's still figure.

With a desperate glance she searched for Aragorn, who didn't need words to know what she meant for him to do. Immediately he made his way over towards Legolas. He placed a hand on his friends' shoulder, softly pulling him aside. Slowly Legolas got to his feet, his fists clenched and his eyes never once looking away from Gyda.

"I'm not losing anybody else," Elgarain promised, determined, as she looked at Legolas. "I won't."

He nodded once but his lips remained closed, pressed together in a thin line.

Elgarain took a deep breath and braced herself before focusing all her attention on Gyda. With steady hands she rolled her to her side. The wound wasn't deep enough to cause unconsciousness. Which meant it was most likely poisoned. And as long as she didn't know what poison was used, she had to prepare for every possibility. When rolled to her side, her friend would be less likely to choke should the poison reach her lungs or airway.

She searched her memories for every lesson Lord Elrond had ever given her about different venoms and toxins. His words came to her as though he'd spoken them yesterday. Always determine what kind of poison you're dealing with, or else it is impossible to know which antidote to use. Frantically she looked around, searching for the blade that caused the wound.

Aragorn seemed to realize what she was looking for and picked up a heavy broadsword from the ground. He knelt down beside her, handing her the blade.

Careful, to avoid touching the steel, she observed the stained blade. But there was too much blood to see anything that might help her determine the kind of poison used. With a frustrated sigh she put the blade down, searching every piece of knowledge she had available about Orc poison in this part of Middle-Earth. But she was too impatient to think clearly while Gyda became paler with each second. Her breathing was turning ragged and shallow, her veins painted black on her skin.

There was only one other way Elgarain could think of to find out what she was poisoned with. Though it was reckless and dangerous without knowing with absolute certainty she had everything needed to make an antidote. But trying to talk herself out of it was useless, her mind was already made up.

She moved fast to prevent Aragorn from stopping her. She touched the blade with the tip of her finger, then put it in her mouth. The metallic taste of blood was overwhelming but she caught a hint of something sour lingering underneath...

"No!" Aragorn pulled her hand away from her mouth but the damage was already done. "What did you do, anarinya?"

The nickname from their childhood filled her entire body with a flaming heat, or perhaps it was the poison...

"I told you, I wasn't going to lose anyone else," she spoke, her words slurring together.

She had to work fast and Aragorn's worried eyes were distracting her, so she looked away from him, keeping her gaze focused on Gyda. Through the fog that was quickly invading her mind she tried to list what she knew. Sour taste, flaming pain, slurring speech...

"Dúath," she mumbled, the pieces slowly connecting.

Nightshade, or Dúath as her kin called it, was a black flower that grew out of volcanic ashes. Often used to make a powder to poison blades or arrowheads with. One of the many kinds of poison orcs liked to use. It slowly burned through your veins, until your body had become the very volcanic ash the flower grew from. In a way, the flower was forced to kill to stay alive. There was only one problem...she had no idea what the antidote was.

"Lass?" Gimli asked, his voice thick with worry.

"I-" she mumbled, but she couldn't find the words to answer. With a frown she looked down at her hands. Her skin was pale and her body felt as though it had been set on fire.

A figure knelt down beside her and placed a steady hand on her shoulder. "El, tell us what you need." Boromir's calm voice pierced through her clouded thoughts.

She was grateful for his ability to think clearly in times of distress but she was too busy trying to keep herself awake to answer. Then she caught sight of the ring of power on her finger, her father's ring. One last desperate idea formed in her fevered thoughts. She had no idea whether it would work or not but considering the situation, she couldn't afford not to try.

"If either of us starts bleeding or convulsing, pull my hand away," she told Boromir, struggling with every word.

He frowned; the question ready on his lips but she didn't have the time to explain. He'd know what she meant soon enough.

Taking Gyda's hand in her own, she closed her eyes. Her thoughts took her back to the time she'd watched Lord Elrond heal Frodo using Vilya's power. If she could connect with Gyda's fëa and guide it back, she might just keep her alive long enough to get to the Healing Rooms of Lothlórien and find the antidote.

She had no idea how to utilize Vilyas power, much less how to connect to Gyda's fëa. But she knew she would never forgive herself if she didn't try. Then she would forever remain trapped in this moment, seated here on the forest floor, wondering what she could have done differently.

Elgarain took a deep breath, forcing her heart beat to slow. She concentrated on the weight and shape of the ring on her finger. All the while emptying her thoughts of all distractions. It turned out she didn't have to do anything really. Vilya had a will of its own. The ring seemed to sense exactly what Elgarain had planned and answered her call for help immediately. The sapphire stone set in the golden band lit up like a tiny star. The light embraced her in a far more pleasant heat than the fever had.

Vilya guided her through the darkness and Elgarain simply followed the light. The forest, her worried friends and the watchful guard of Lothlórien, they were all enveloped in a pale blue light. The details of their faces disappeared, still she could recognize them all perfectly. For each of them seemed to be a different shade of blue, varying from light to dark. They looked like pale, blue stars. With a startled gasp she realized she was looking at their fëar. Vilya had lifted a veil from the mortal world and guided her into the realm of spirits.

The place was dark, the only light came from the pale figures of those surrounding her. The silence was thick and yet peaceful. Not a single sound could be heard, as though she'd suddenly gone deaf. It was a considerable difference with the amount of sounds her finetuned Elf ears normally picked up on. Though, it didn't scare her. Vilya's soft glow was comforting and warm.

With renewed courage, Elgarain turned to look at Gyda. In the gathering darkness she found her unconscious body. Her fëa was illuminated with indigo light, familiar to her as an old friend. She reached out, took her hand firmly in hers and tried to call out Gyda's name. Only to find out her mouth was glued shut. Not a single word could make it past her lips.

Her stomach clenched with flaming panic. But it was Vilya's steady presence that urged her to think. When she considered the situation for a moment, she realized it made sense that communicating with one's fëa required a different kind of language than when talking to the hröa. But then what else was she supposed to do?

Once again it was Vilya who answered her. In a flash of bright light, memories from her childhood washed over her like a tidal wave. Memories.

With a concentrated frown on her features, she searched her mind for the strongest memory she had of Gyda. An emotional connection to the Head of her Guard, her friend, her sister.

Slowly, an image started to form. Elgarain was many years younger, seated in her room in Imladris. Between her slender fingers she was holding her masterfully crafted spear, Rilya. Gyda had a soft smile on her face as she watched her trace the orchids that decorated the wood. She remembered how she felt back then. Comforted by Gyda's presence, glowing with pride at her confidence in her skills as a warrior and, more importantly, a queen. Two Elleths, ready to make their own legacy.

A sound like a hurricane assaulted her ears and with a startled gasp her eyes flew open. Her surroundings came rushing back to her all at once as her fëa reconnected with her hröa. Too many colors, too many sounds, it was all too much. It felt as though she'd spend hours wandering through the quiet darkness. But it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Still, the world was far too bright. She dropped Gyda's hand from her grasp and covered her ears, whimpering as she rocked back and forth.

Birds chirping, the wind rustling the treetops, her own breathing...It was all too much.

Firm fingers with a soft touch caressed her cheek and softly turned her head. Her eyes met two familiar gray eyes. They held hues of blue in the evening light as they stared at her with worry. "Breathe with me, Elgarain. Breathe."

In, out. Fresh air filled her lungs and slowly the world stilled.

She dropped her hands, feeling incredibly tired all of a sudden. Her entire body was shivering, every last bit of energy seemed to have left her. She hardly cared about anything at the moment and let herself collapse against Aragorn's chest. He wrapped his arms around her, forming a shield from the brightness of the mortal world.

Vilyas light faded, until the sapphire stone had returned to its normal blue color. The entire forest seemed to hold its breath; all eyes focused on the wounded Guard and the Queen who had healed her. Slowly, like the rising of the sun in the morning, color returned to Gyda's skin. Her breathing steadied as the blood surrounding the wound turned from black to shining red. It had worked even better than she had dared to hope. It seemed her work with Vilya had made the poison vanish completely.

A trembling breath left Elgarains lips. "She's going to be alright," she whispered, tears lingering within her eyes.

The words had barely left her mouth when Legolas rushed forward. He knelt down beside Gyda and carefully gathered her in his arms. His blue eyes filled with that same intimacy Elgarain had witnessed earlier that day. With Gyda in his arms, he got to his feet and turned to look at Haldir.

"Take us to the Healing Rooms."

He didn't sound unfriendly but there was no room in his tone for argument either. It was the voice of a prince who didn't take kindly to being disobeyed.

Haldir nodded, then turned to another Elf and instructed him to wake the Hobbits, if the noise of the fight had not yet done so.

Carefully she got to her feet. Her legs felt as though they were made of water. She was too tired to feel ashamed about having to lean on Aragorn. Though she couldn't bring herself to look at him, knowing the look of worry and disapproval she'd find in those gray eyes.

Gimli walked up to her, trying his hardest to look stern but his voice betrayed him. "You've got guts, lass, I'll give you that."

She smiled at his quickly retreating figure.

"What happened?" A small voice came from behind her.

With wide eyes Pippin approached them, followed by the three other Hobbits. Every single one of them looked equally worried at Gyda's unconscious figure.

"She was injured by a poisoned orc blade," Elgarain explained. "I managed to treat the effects of the poison but I still need to tend to her wound."

"But she is going to be okay?" Sam asked with a frown.

Elgarain smiled reassuringly. "I believe so. She's strong."

"Now friends," Haldir's stern voice cut through the air, putting an end to their questions. "You have entered Lothlórien. We allow no strangers to spy out the secrets of our woods. Few are even permitted to set foot here. As was agreed, I shall blindfold the eyes of Gimli the Dwarf."

Gimli frowned. "This agreement was made without my consent. I will not walk blindfolded like a beggar or a prisoner. I am no spy. My kin never had dealings with the enemy or any of his servants. Neither have we done any harm to the Elves. I am no more likely to betray you than Legolas, or any other of my companions."

"I do not doubt you," Haldir said, still stern. "Yet this is our law and I cannot set the law aside."

Gimli opened his mouth to protest once again but Aragorn interrupted him. "If our companion must be blindfolded, then so will we. All in our company are equal."

Legolas' eyes flashed with impatience. "Aragorn, it will slow our journey." He didn't have to say anything else for them all to know the reason he was in such a hurry. His muscles were wound so tight with nerves and worry she feared he might break.

Aragorn looked at Elgarain. He didn't have to ask her anything for her to know what he wanted to hear.

"There's no immediate danger to her life, Legolas," she spoke, her voice small from exhaustion. "We have time."

The Elf looked like he wanted to protest but one look from Aragorn silenced him. This was a sacrifice they had to make in order to appease their hosts. They had nowhere else to go and so this was their only choice.

"We shall look like a merry party of fools," Gimli laughed. "But I will agree to this arrangement."

"Foolish it may seem but I shall lead you well. The paths are straight and smooth," Haldir said, seriously.

The Elves of Lothlórien bound a piece of cloth before their eyes. Immediately her hearing sharpened, making up for the loss of her sight. Though the others wouldn't enjoy that same comfort.

The morning air was cold as they set out again, leaving the slaughtered orcs behind. They followed a narrow path that led them southwards. The ground beneath her feet was soft and smooth, just as Haldir had promised. Despite her exhausted legs, she wasn't afraid of falling, trusting the Guard to lead them on safely.

A river murmured to their right and for a while they followed it. Until Haldir made a sharp turn to the left and the sound slowly died away. It was replaced by the sharp whistles of birdsong, announcing the arrival of the dawn.

As they continued, she could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, driving away the shadows of the restless night. She'd walked with Aragorn's support for a while. Until she found enough strength to walk on her own. Still, she could feel his presence lingering close by, not needing her vision to recognize him.

They walked for many hours before they finally halted and their blindfolds were removed. She blinked against the sudden bright sunlight as her surroundings slowly revealed themselves to her. They were standing in a glade of the greenest grass, all of them unharmed, as Haldir had promised. She glanced at Gyda, relief flooding her veins when she saw the healthy color of her skin hadn't paled again.

"Caras Galadhon," Haldir announced. "The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and the Galadriel, Lady of light."

Up on the hill ahead of them grew the largest Mallorn trees in all of Middle-Earth. Their height could not be guessed, even wider and larger than the pillars of Dwarrowdelf. The trees grew in a wide circle, stretching out as far and wide as the eye could see. The leaves formed a golden roof for the city located high in the treetops itself. The trees were the pillars and walls of the buildings, as much a part of the city as the masterfully carved homes. Between the many branches countless lights were gleaming in colors of green, gold and silver. The sight was breathtaking.

Haldir led him across a stone path that ended at a great set of gates facing southwards. They were set between the ends of a wall that encircled the entire city. Carved from silver wood, they stood tall and strong, decorated with many soft glowing lights.

The Fellowship entered the city. At first glance there was no one to be seen. But once Elgarain looked up, she found the city was alive with soft voices, glowing lights and peaceful melodies. The forest floor was nearly deserted but the Elves of Lothlórien had made their home high up in the trees.

They followed the stone path for a while longer until they reached the foot of one of the Mallorn trees. Their guide came to a halt and gestured at the stairs. "You'll find the Healing Rooms at the top," Haldir said. "The rest of you must follow me. The Lord and Lady are awaiting your arrival."

Elgarain saw the worried glance Frodo sent their way. Clearly, it made him uneasy to go their different ways. Especially now that the Fellowship was already one member short...

"It's all right," she reassured him. "We will see each other soon."

Frodo nodded at her with a small smile.

The silver staircase was decorated with many flowers and lights. It was carved to elegantly wrap itself around the Mallorn tree. Legolas went first, holding Gyda closely against his chest. Elgarain followed him, using the banister to drag her exhausted body up the stairs. She threw one last glance over shoulder, watching as the rest of the Fellowship followed Haldir further along the path.

As if sensing her gaze, Aragorn's eyes found hers. He nodded once at her before disappearing out of sight.

With a trembling breath she continued her way up the stairs. At the top awaited a building of white wood with many rooms and windows. Legolas and Elgarain made their way inside where they were greeted by a green-eyed Elleth wearing a long, golden dress.

"Boe de nestad," Legolas said, still with his strangely formal voice.

The Elleth nodded. "Tolo ar nin."

They followed her down a brightly lit hallway and into a chamber on their right. The room was round and completely white. From the satin sheets on the bed, to the flowers standing in a glass vase in the corner. Silver lights glowed within their lanterns, illuminating the room with a peaceful glow.

"Can I get some fresh water?" Elgarain asked the Elf.

"Of course," she said with a bow of her head and disappeared from the room.

Carefully, Legolas put Gyda upon the bed while Elgarain searched the cabinets for the necessary equipment. Clean cloth, thread and needle, a bowl and Athelas. The Elleth returned with a bowl of clean water, set it down beside the bed and then retreated from the room.

Forcing the exhaustion from her bones, Elgarain easily assumed her role as Healer once again. First, she cleaned the wound, glad to see her work with Vilya had driven all poison from Gyda's blood. Then, under Legolas watchful gaze, she stitched the red skin back together. Finally, she applied a mixture of clean water and Athelas upon a piece of cloth, which she wrapped around the wound.

By the time she was done, Legolas had slipped into the trance-like state Elves used to rest instead of sleeping. She felt like she could sleep for her years herself but the work wasn't done. Instead, she tidied up the room and cleaned the equipment she'd used. She was just about to ask for another bowl of water when a gasp fell from Gyda's lips.

Elgarain was at her side within seconds, feeling like a heavy weight was removed from her chest when the eyes of her trusted Guard opened.

"Gyda?" She asked softly, carefully.

"Tarinya?" Her voice cracked, uncharacteristically soft spoken as she gazed up at her. "What happened?"

There were no words to describe the relief that overwhelmed her. For a moment she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Finally she decided answering her question was the easiest course of action. "You were cut with a poisonous blade," Elgarain replied. Despite her exhaustion, her voice was filled with the soft happiness of relief.

Gyda's fingers reached subconsciously for the neatly wrapped bandage on her arm before her eyes drifted to the other side of the bed. Elgarain followed her gaze to where Legolas was sleeping, a frown permanently etched on his pale features. She pretended not to see the way Gyda's hand stretched out to him, only to fall back on the sheets in hesitation.

"You saved me," Gyda spoke up instead.

"Well, I am the only capable healer we brought along," Elgarain tried to joke, but she couldn't mask her worries entirely. The entire ordeal far too fresh in her mind and heart.

A watery smile appeared on Gyda's face as her eyes glazed over when grief and pain finally caught up to her. "I thought I—I would die." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I was scared, Elgarain."

Once, the confession of vulnaribily of her Guard might have surprised her. Now, she could only feel grateful for her trust. "So was I," Elgarain replied softly, honestly.

"No revels for your potentially newly found freedom?" Gyda tried to joke.

A teary chuckle escaped her lips. "Once, maybe. But now?" Her expression turned serious. "I need you, nésa."

Without warning, Gyda lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Elgarain, surprising her. Her embrace was tight and tears crawled down her cheek. "Ni 'lassui," Gyda whispered in her ear.

"It was my turn to keep you safe," Elgarain replied, holding her just as tight. She tried to ignore the lump in her throat but tears worked their way down her face despite her efforts.

Somewhat reluctantly, Gyda pulled away, though she continued holding on to her shoulders. A small smile painted her features. "I'm glad you did but forgive me for saying, you look terribly tired."

She needed a moment to think of what to say next. She could spell out the lecture she'd get if she told Gyda what she'd done to heal her. But Elgarain wasn't willing to hide the truth from her either. "Well, I-" she took a deep breath. "I had to take some serious measures to heal you."

Gyda frowned, then reached for her hands, clutching them tightly in her own. "Tarinya, what did you do?"

Elgarain looked down, unable to bear her worried gaze. "I had to find out what you were poisoned with in order to determine the right antidote. But the sword was too filthy to be of any help." Her voice trembled when she continued. "So, I poisoned myself."

She saw Gyda tense and felt her heart sink.

"Elgarain..." she paused, frowning as she searched for words. "That was very stupid of you."

Her shoulders slumped.

"And very, very brave. Your father would be proud of you Elgarain."

With a confused frown she lifted her gaze. "I-" She considered her words and decided not to comment on the lack of a lecture. Instead, she let the words sink in and truly enter her heart. Then, slowly, a smile formed on her lips. "Thank you."

Gyda returned her smile but then something drew her eyes towards Elgarain's fingers. Vilya glistered softly in the soft silver light of the room. As if their reunion had somehow awakened its powers.

"I used Vilya's power to heal us both by connecting our fëar," Elgarain said. "I don't think either of us would have survived otherwise."

"How did you know how to use it?" Gyda wondered, eyes still locked on the ring.

"I saw Lord Elrond do the same when healing Frodo from the wound left by the Morgul Blade," Elgarain explained while studying the ring as well. "I just repeated what he did and then Vilya guided me, almost like the ring knew what I was meant to do."

Gyda nodded slowly, trying to understand. "I'm glad your heart called you to the healing halls, Elgarain." She moved her gaze back to Elgarain and observed her exhausted figure. "Now you must rest Tarinya, you deserve it."

"So do you," she replied softly.

"So do we all." Gyda grinned, before reluctantly asking; "the others, how are they faring?"

"They were worried but they're alright," Elgarain reassured her. Her gaze flickered to Legolas. "Though perhaps you should ask them yourself."

Gyda chuckled but it was a hollow sound. "Go. Tell the others I'm alright."

Elgarain nodded as she smiled knowingly. "I'll return later today to change your bandage. Please make sure to rest until then." She got to her feet and squeezed Gyda's hand reassuringly.

Then she left the room while Vilya softly shimmered on her finger.

°∴,*⋅✲✦ ( ♕ ) ✦✲⋅*,∴°

𝕬𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝕹𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . .

I absolutely loved writing this chapter! While it has a lot of Ararain and Gylas moments that I adore. This chapter really represents what this story is truly about: Elgarain and Gyda. Their bond means everything to me okay. Enemies to best friends, to actual sisters is such an underrated trope in my eyes. Platonic soulmates anyone?

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I did! We added a little book scene in as well, with the blindfold and such. Just because I thought it was too amazing to leave out. Also a little glimpse in the role Vilya will play in this book. Elgarain is a badass healer but a little help goes a long way...

Please don't be shy and share your thoughts in the comments! Oh and if you want to read about what happens in that room after Elgarain left...Please go check out Ballad of Broken Swords by -voidlegends. I promise you won't regret it!

See you all next time!

xx Nelly

ELVISH TRANSLATIONS:

Anarinya ― My sun

Dúath ― Nightshade

Fëa ― Spirit or soul

Hröa ― Body

Boe de nestad ― She is in need of healing

Tolo ar nin ― Come with me

Tarinya ― My queen

Nésa ― Sister

Ni 'lassui ― Thank you/I am glad

NOTES ON LORE:

Fëa & hröa ― Fëa and hröa (fëar and hröar in plural forms) are Quenya words for "soul" (or "spirit") and "body". According to the Elves, the fëa is powerless without the hröa, and likewise the latter would die without the former.

Dúath ― Dúath, or Nightsade, is a poison that comes from a black flower. This flower grows from vulcanic ashes. The poison turns its victim into ashes so that the flower can be reborn. This is not canon. I created this poison especially for this story. Plagiarizing this will not be tolerated.