Title: Hope is Kindled
Summary: A company of Lorien Elves seeks passage through Ithilien. Does the alliance between Elves and Men still stand? Faramir must decide. Takes place pre-LOTR in the Third Age 3013.
Pairings: None. There will be much interaction between male and female characters in this story, but the strongest relationship that develops, is a friendship.
Rating: K+ for some mild action/adventure violence.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Tolkien's masterpiece.
Author's Note: Welcome to chapter three, the last chapter of Hope is Kindled. I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, Mystress of the Dark, MerryKK, childofGod-4ever, and gymnastics-lover. Thank you all! I do not have a beta for this fic, so any mistakes that appear in this chapter are my fault and my fault alone. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Three
Another day passed and the Elves remained in Ithilien. A good number of Faramir's men left and not all returned. Haldir did not question him, though Hisael often voiced her objections.
She began to grumble once more and her face became more harried with each passing hour. From morning until noon she led her scouts through the ruined woodland and returned only to report stillness and silence.
"There is nothing to be done here," Hisael said to Haldir on the ever of the second night. The trees ached with the pull of the wind and swift clouds ringed the moon.
"I need more time then," Haldir replied. His voice was cold and he wished she would cease her complaints.
Hisael scowled and strands of her fair hair whipped over her brow. "You have had three days."
"Only two," he said. "We depart on the morrow."
"Captain Faramir has made little use of our aid." Hisael glanced sideways at the young man who stood with his Rangers in a darkening grove. They spoke in whispers. "Why do you waste your time so?" she asked.
Haldir shifted his weight from one foot to the other. For one considered wise, Hisael was nothing less than foolish.
"Our aid is not restricted to the strength of our arms."
"In what way then, do we do them any good?"
"By way of friendship."
Hisael opened her mouth. Her lips parted in disbelief.
"By way of friendship?" she echoed. And then anger made her features stony. "The time of the Elves is over. Our power wanes. We leave Men alone to face what they will."
Haldir stepped closer and tilted his head down to speak in her ear. Purpose thrummed within him and he would not have her folly thwart it.
"There will come a time when the alliance between Men and Elves must stand once more. The hour darkens and the day shortens. We must be ready."
Hisael recoiled. "Those are not your words, Haldir of Lorien, but another's."
"Yes," He nodded. "Heed them, if your wisdom allows it."
Hisael looked back at Faramir. He appeared small amongst the trees and pale. Haldir saw doubt fill her eyes.
"My scouts leave in the morning," she said.
Haldir's shoulders sagged in defeat. She would not be swayed, even by Galadriel.
Hisael decided to tell Faramir herself that she would soon quit his land. After informing her scouts of their intended departure, she sought the young Captain and his companions. But the grove where he had stood was empty and his men could not tell where he had gone.
Hisael set out to search for him alone and wandered through the old land. An ancient road circled a knoll. Dead grass along with the ghosts of wildflowers clung to its side. To her right the land sloped down and thick trees clogged a valley.
She stopped and watched the light of the stars fall upon the forest. The clouds had cleared. She could see the deep blue of night cast over the heavens.
"My lady!" Captain Faramir called down from the hill behind her. Hisael turned about. For once, he had surprised her. "Come if you will," he said and his breath fogged the air.
Hisael did not reply, but climbed the hill with ease. The ground was firm and frozen. The steps of many Rangers had molded a small path.
"Good eve, Captain Faramir," she said. He bowed and greeted her in turn.
"I look to the West," he said. "There the stars shine the brightest, over Minas Tirith, the White City."
Hisael thought she heard a sigh trace his words. The wind blew down the hill and danced in the dead branches in the valley below.
She would have to tell him. "Captain Faramir-
"Tell me of your lands," he said. Curiosity colored his eyes. His face softened. Hisael shook her head.
"How can I? How can I describe beauty that has not dimmed?"
"The minstrels do it well enough."
"I am no minstrel."
"You are wise, or so they say."
Hisael looked out over the vale. What to say?
Speak to him.
The gentle voice of Lady Galadriel caressed her thoughts.
I cannot.
The words formed in her mind before she could stop them. But the Lady only laughed.
He is descended of a mighty race. He will understand, this man.
Hisael turned to Faramir and the silver light shown upon him, casting his shadow onto the ground. She thought he looked noble and kind and…wise.
But how could a man be so wise?
Hisael breathed in the cold air and let it seep into her lungs.
"There is not much I can tell you," she said. "But I will tell you what I can."
And so she told him of Lothlorien and of the great mellyrn and the elanor that blossomed. She told him of Caras Galadhon, the city in the trees and she told him of the fair Elves that dwelled there. She told him of the Nimrodel and the way dawn lit upon it and chased away the mist.
Faramir listened and sometimes he smiled. When Hisael finished at last, he laughed.
"You spoke with grace, my lady."
"I spoke of what I know."
"I would wish to see such a place." Faramir adjusted his cloak and it fell about him like a green wave. "But there are many who fear your Wood. Perilous, they call it."
Hisael stared at the dim outline of the land and her eyes sought Lorien, though she knew she should not spy it at so great a distance. The leaves would have turned to gold now. Mist would greet the Wood in the morning. She sighed.
"I have troubled you." Faramir grimaced. "Forgive me. I spoke not of my opinions, but of the folly of others."
"No." The harshness of the wind blinded Hisael and blurred her fresh tears. "You speak truth, Faramir. The Golden Wood is indeed perilous to all."
Faramir shifted. "My lady?"
"It is perilous in the way all love it. Long were the years of my life spent there and I dwelled in its safety. But now all fades and a great sadness descends upon my people." Hisael paused and shuddered. The smiling stars seemed to mock her sorrow.
"We shall leave this place and I shall leave Lothlorien. And all that once was shall be no more."
She turned to Faramir and let him see her tears. "We leave the world to the race of Men."
Faramir watched her in silence. Hisael saw understanding shade his glance. She smiled and lifted her hand to his cheek.
"You give me hope, Faramir."
He stood still beneath her touch.
"There is little I can do, lady."
"No." Hisael retained her smile despite her sadness. "There is hope in you."
The wind shifted and the trees whined. Clouds dashed over the moon. Hisael stiffened.
"Yrch!" she gasped.
Faramir clenched his hand over his longbow. "Where do they come from?"
Swift footfalls sounded on the road and the Ranger, Damrod called up to them.
"Orcs, my lord! A company passes near the camp."
"Come." Hisael bounded down the hill. Faramir followed her. "Show me now that my hope is not unfounded."
Through the night the foul company passed and the Rangers took shelter in the trees with their Elven friends. Black curses spoken in a black language sounded. Haldir waited for the beasts to draw closer. A volley of Galadhrim arrows swept down upon the Enemy and then a second, more scattered.
Faramir and Hisael returned as a third took flight. Haldir reached down and helped Hisael onto the branch beside him as Faramir readied his own bow.
"Could you have not given us a fair warning of their approach?" Haldir gestured at the onslaught of Orcs. Most of the Rangers were on the ground now. They unsheathed their swords.
"Forgive me." Hisael's eyes glinted as she watched Faramir. He was at the fore and his sword singed the air with steel.
Haldir raised his hand. Another barrage coursed down at the Orcs, some of which had begun to scale the trees.
"Morgul filth," he muttered. The Galadhrim on the lower branches climbed higher and fired down at the creatures. Black blood coated the tree trunks.
"We are overrun," Haldir said. A tight knot formed in his chest as he leaned forward on the branch. The Rangers were pushed back, some trapped amongst the trees. Faramir forced his way through the growing swarm and uttered a heartening cry to his men.
"The Gondorian cannot hold them for long." Haldir clutched his bow and loosed an arrow.
"Not alone," Hisael breathed. She pointed to the horizon where dawn licked the East. The rest of Faramir's company advanced through the forest. "I saw them upon the road," she said. "They circle about to entrap the Orcs."
"Valar bless us." Haldir sank against the branch in relief as the fresh force of Rangers poured into the glen. The company of Orcs attempted to flee but their retreat was cut short. Swords and arrows slashed their hides. The sun rose. A thin fog crept over Ithilien.
"For Gondor! For Gondor!" The Rangers cast back their hoods and chanted in unison. Most of the Galadhrim dropped to the ground and surveyed the scene with stoic pride. Haldir and Hisael remained seated on the branch. Together, they watched Faramir walk amongst his men with the dawn's light on his hair and face.
Hisael smiled. "Hope is kindled."
Afternoon gilded Ithilien in long shadows under a bright sky. The Elves made ready to take up their road once more and return to Lothlorien. Haldir paced along the loose line of his Galadhrim. The sun was at their backs and they would march through the night, not heeding the dangers of the wild.
You have done well, my Captain.
Galadriel's voice lit in Haldir's mind, soft and pleased.
Thank you, my lady.
He stopped his pacing to stare at the ground where old stones mirrored ancient glory.
Look, the Lady pressed him. Look for yourself.
Haldir glanced over his shoulder and saw Hisael. She stood conversing with Captain Faramir. The Elf tilted his head to the side, listening with keen ears.
"We part in friendship," Hisael said. She clapped her hand on Faramir's forearm.
"Most assuredly. I am grateful for-
"Bah!" Hisael tossed her head. "Heed what I have said and I shall be further pleased. Remember my words in your darkest hours, may they be few."
Faramir murmured a farewell of his own and Hisael turned away.
"My lady!" the young man called after her. She glanced back at him. "When shall you cross the sea?"
Sorrow and understanding infused Hisael's features.
"I do no know," she said at length. "But I give you leave to call upon me for aid whenever you must. And if I still dwell upon this shore, I will come to you. Let the alliance between Elves and Men still stand."
And with that she moved away and joined her kin. Haldir clapped her hand upon her shoulder, chuckling.
"What amuses you?"
"Nothing." He shook his head. "Come along now, the road is long and the day darkens."
The End
Author's Note: This was a short fic, I know, but I had fun writing it. I hope you all enjoyed reading!