*。☆。
★。＼｜／。★
˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ DONNED IN WHITE  ❫ ❞
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT THREE  ── face et spera 🏹 ⁺⑅

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CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY  ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝ YOU RECKLESS IDIOT  ❞
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year 3019
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━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝘰𝘧 𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨, 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛 ❞

*✧ ─── GYDA HADN'T MOVED. NOT WHEN THE OTHERS JOIN HER. NOT WHEN ARAGORN HAD SCREAMED, OR WHEN LEGOLAS HAD WHISPERED an Elvish prayer by her side. Not even as Gimli whispered that they had failed them. Still she had clutched the scabbard, afraid that if she lost it, she'd have to look for it again among the burned remains. Afraid this time, she might find one of them...might find Elgarain among the death.

She failed.

Gyda squeezed her eyes shut, and willed the tears away but they would not listen. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs and yet not even a finger twitched. She was so tired. Tired of their journey. Tired of the weight she carried.

But more so she was angry. Angry at the world for the existence of the ring. Angry at Elrond for sending them on this quest. Angry at Elgarain. Stupid, whimsical, courageous Elgarain who had to join them to destroy the Ring.

Angry because she dared to die.

But most of all angry at herself for letting it happen.

A hand on her shoulder startles her, and one of her own hands flew up. Fingers wrapping tightly around a pale wrist.

Legolas.

"Gyda." He whispers cautiously... kindly. "We must move. It does you no good, to look at it."

But Gyda could not tear her eyes away from the pile, unblinkingly she stared until the sight changed as Legolas crouches down in front of her.

His blue eyes soften at her and her lip trembles.

Carefully her cradles her head in his hands, the warmth of his skin a small comfort. "I can't." She whispers.

"You can." He denies. "We must." Slowly his hands move away and grab her trembling hands. Gentle he untangles the scabbard from her fingers and gently lays it in the grass. Her eyes follow it and her eyes glaze over again.

"It's unfair." Her voice cracks.

"It is Gyda."

"I failed her." Her eyes flicker up again. "She was scared, and I was not there." 

"You did everything you could."

She sniffs, and let's her head hang, brown hair curtains her face. "It wasn't enough. it was never enough."

"She would not blame you." He promises her vehemently.

Gyda doesn't speak, instead she turns her head sideways, where she hears Aragorn rustles among the yellowish grass. Fingers gently moving across the dirt. "A Hobbit lay here—" his hand moves. "and the other."

She sighs, wrapping her arms around her torso as she silently listens with an aching heart.

"They crawled." Aragorn moves along the tracks. "Their hands were bound."

Slowly, Legolas pulls her up and Gyda's doesn't protest as they silently move to follow Aragorn. "Another joined them." A larger dent in the earth. Elgarain. "unbound hands."

She averts her gaze, unwilling to look for signs of her High-Queen. To have prove she has really died.

"They crawled further." Gyda watches as Aragorn scurries along the ground, holding a single cut rope in the air. "Their bonds were cut."

Gyda's heart begins to beat louder in her chest, her breathing quickens as she quickly moves towards Aragorn. "They ran over here."

Small feet-shaped imprints in the dirt rang along the hill, and Gyda's eyes search the ground for a sign of Elgarain. She falters as just behind a group of broken rocks she notices more scuff marks.

"They were followed." She breaths out, looking worriedly at Aragorn.

"The tracks lead away from the battleground."

Gyda wastes not time rushing towards the tree line.

"...Into Fangorn Forest." Legolas whispers.

"Fangorn?" Gimli echoes. "What madness drove them in there?"

But Gyda doesn't wait, and marches straight into the tree line, hazel eyes fixate on the ground, an worry blossoms in her heart at the sight of blood. The trail leads right up to an Orc as it lays dead on the ground.

Her heart flutters.

There, jammed into the eyes socket of the foul beast, a familiar paintbrush sits coated in blood. Her heart begins to race as she quickens her pace. Her breath gets caught in her throat as she notices the trail of blood that leads away from the Orc.

Too much. She think. Too much blood.

"No..." She pleads, "Please no." She hurriedly follows the trail, vaguely aware of the others as they follow her.

"Gyda!" Legolas calls after her. "Gyda wait."

A hand latches on her wrist, and pulls her back.

Gyda glares at Legolas over her shoulder and she opens her mouth to protest but he cuts in before she can. "It's dangerous. We should stay together."

Her shoulders slouch, as she realizes the truth of his words. "You're right." She states deflated, "I'm sorry."

For some time the companions crawls and grope upon the ground. The trees stand mournfully above them, its dry leaves now hanging limp, and rattling in the chill easterly wind.

"We've been warned against this forest." Gimli spoke up.

"I do not think the wood feels evil, whatever tales may say,' Legolas replies as he stands under the eaves of the forest, stooping forward, as if he were listening, and peering with wide eyes into the shadows... as if it was talking to him.

Gyda understands, she feels it too. Like and infection evil slithers, but the heart of the forest remains pure of heart. "No, it is not evil; or what evil is in it is far away. I catch only the faintest echoes of dark places where the hearts of the trees are black. There is no malice near us; but there is watchfulness, and anger."

"Well, it has no cause to be angry with me,' Gimli scoffs. 'I have done it no harm."

"That is just as well," Legolas sighs. "But nonetheless it has suffered harm. There is something happening inside, or going to happen. Do you not feel the tenseness? It takes my breath."

The continue their tracks upwards, between roots of trees and fallen branches and crumbling rocks. Less sunlight manages to gleam through the thick canopy above them.

"Orc blood." They turn to see Gimli spit out something she can only assume is said blood and grimace.

Aragorn approaches the dwarf and observes the ground and the other three follow silently behind him. "These are strange tracks."

"The air is so close in here." Gimli mutters.

"This forest is old." Legolas supplies, "Very old...full of memory and anger."

Something creaks in the distance and Gyda reaches for the pommel of her sword.

"The trees are speaking to each other."

Gyda strains her ears and hears the faint indistinguishable voices as they are carried on the wind.

"Gimli?" She turns as the dwarf almost frightfully holds his axe.

"huh?"

"Lower your axe." Aragorn instructs.

Gimli straightens and slow and apologetically lowers his axe.

"Gyda, Aragorn, nad nâ ennas!"

Her posture straightens and she clings to her sword, following after the Woodland elf.

"Man cenich?" Aragorn whispers.

"The White Wizard approaches."

Gyda immediately draws her sword, as does Aragorn while Gimli tightens his grip on his axe and Legolas nocks an arrow. "Do not let him speak." Aragorn warns. "He will put a spell on us."

Gyda takes in a deep breath, eyes gazing in the shadows of the forest.

"We must be quick." Aragorn states quietly.

Just as they twirl around, a blinding white light.

Gimli throws his axe, but it shatters in a thousand pieces, falling like leaves on the ground, neither Legolas' arrow finds its purpose. Gyda moves forward, ready to lay her own attack, when suddenly her sword grows hot in her hand and clatters to the ground.

With a hiss she looks up, squinting through her lashes as the Wizard donned in white speaks. "You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits and an Elf."

Gyda grits her teeth and daringly steps forward and just her chin out. "Where are they!?"

"They passed this way." The figure speaks. "yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Aragorn demands.

They watch as the light slowly fades away and Gyda almost stumbles back if it wasn't for Legolas placing a hand on her lower back.

"It cannot be." Aragon mumbles.

"Gandalf." She breaths out in disbelief.

The White Wizard smiles.

"You fell." Aragorn frowns.

"Through fire...and water." He starts, "From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and every day was as long as a life age of the Earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back ...until my task is done."

"Gandalf." Aragorn smiles.

"Gandalf?" He pauses. "Yes. That is what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey."

"Gandalf." Gimli repeats

"I am Gandalf the White." He grins. "And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide." He pauses and his eyes catches Gyda's. "We've come back."

His white cloak moves, like sunlight and parts to a new sight. One that makes Gyda's breath catch in her throat and her knees buckle.

Gyda takes a shaky step forward, and another, and another until suddenly she was running without regard for anything else but Elgarain. Without warning she flings herself at the Elleth and breathlessly chokes out; "You reckless idiot." Before wrapping her arms so tightly around her, Elgarain can barely breathe. "I believed you to be dead!" A cry escapes her.

"I'm glad to see you too," Elgarain replies through her tears, but the Elleth winches in her hold and her heart hammers in her chest as she remembers.

Because Gyda notices, Gyda always notices. Slowly she unwinds her arms from around her, a thoughtful frown on her face. "You're hurt." You were hurt in our dream.

"I was," Elgarain answers. "I managed to heal myself just in time. Thanks to Vilya." She gestures to her ripped clothes and revealed the scar from where the orc had pushed his blade through her stomach. "I'm just a little bruised now."

Her heart shatters again, and guilt starts to spread through her like an infection. She clenches her fists by her side. The same words ringing through her head. I failed... I failed.

Gyda's eyes are drawn to the scar and her bottom lip trembles and she averts her gaze remorsefully. "I'm so sorry Elgarain." She confesses, "I-I wish I was there. As my vow had demanded of me."

I failed...I failed.

Elgarain shook her head. "You've trained me, taught me how to protect myself. That's how you've kept your vow."

A small glimmer of acceptance tries to push true, and Gyda tries to let it. Tries to let Elgarain assuring words be a balm to a wound she has carried for so long. But it is hard, and Gyda doesn't quite know how to accept such a thing as imperfection. It rattles like a warning in her head, tells her no. You should be guilty. Your own High-Queen, hurt and scarred whilst she was not around.

But she ignores the voice. Just this once, because Elgarain is here, in her arms. Safe.

Gyda grabs her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. A silent thank you.

"I've never in my life been so glad to see an Elf," Gimli spoke loudly, and Gyda is glad for the interruption, for she has no words left that can describe what she wants to tell Elgarain.

"You got us running all across Middle-Earth, lass." He sniffles quietly, desperately trying to hide the glimmer of tears in his eyes.

Gyda watches as Elgarain looks over her shoulder at the dwarf and chuckles as she got to her feet and walked towards him.

Gyda waits a moment more before standing up as well, looking more relaxed than she had in a long time.

"You've got my most heartfelt thanks, master dwarf." Elgarain replies charmingly with a small smile.

He swatted her words away while continuing to mutter beneath his breath.

It made Gyda chuckle.

"I'm glad to see you alive, mellon nin," Legolas smiles, stepping forward and placing his hand on his heart, bowing his head in a gesture of their people.

"As am I," Elgarain says and bows her head in return.

Gyda watches, as almost reluctantly, or perhaps frightfully Elgarain turns to the last member of their dwindling Fellowship.

Aragorn stands still, like a statue, as if afraid a single twitch of his hand might make Elgarain disappear and turn out to be a visage of his dreams. A figment of his imagination. Gyda had thought so at first too.

"Magical is it not?" Gyda turns her head to look at Gandalf as the man smiles at her beneath his beard. "How the bonds of life intertwine us all."

Gyda doesn't reply immediately as she instead gazes at the others. An unlikely group they make she admits in her head. Her mind wanders back to her dreams, and she wonders. "Gandalf--?"

"We must make haste." The White Wizard instead addresses the whole of the Fellowship remaining. "Rohan stands on the edge of peril. We must travel to Edoras with all speed."

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elvish translations:
Gyda, Aragorn, nad nâ ennas!
— gyda, aragorn, something is out there

Man cenich?
— what do you see?

AUTHOR'S NOTE
our babies are back together