To Elrohir, the apology is strange, but he recalls soon enough that he is speaking to men, and not those familiar with the kingdoms of elves. He knows few of the horse lords and fewer still from Gondor, so he shares in her unfamiliarity. His greeting is well recieved, though it pained her to answer it, and he says nothing of how her grip goes white on her borrowed saddle.
"Well met, Éowyn," he says first, though it is strange to hear in in the common speak. "It was providence that you arrived when you did. My brother and I had only just arrived. If she had not been searching for us, I do not know if our grandmother would have reached the borders in time."
He glances away from her, if only to keep an eye for his brother and his horse, but the caravan is dense and they both excel at going unseen.
"You have come to Lothlórien, one of the few great strongholds of the Eldar," he explains for there is no one else who can. "The Enemy is at our northern border, mounting an assault as we speak. There are few wardens stationed in the far reaches, but even undefended, the woods are a safe harbor. They are well known to the Enemy. That you led two of the wraiths here is..."
He casts a look back, but they are far too deep into the wood to hear the combat or the death of that wraith. They are through the barrier and spared the darkness of the outside world. He worries, despite himself, but if his grandmother has perished it would be evident across all the woodlands.
"I will not say fortunate, for no aspect of wraiths can be considered so, but it was their mistake. Neither will survive to torment the world of men or elves again."
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Date: 2025-06-15 01:50 am (UTC)"Well met, Éowyn," he says first, though it is strange to hear in in the common speak. "It was providence that you arrived when you did. My brother and I had only just arrived. If she had not been searching for us, I do not know if our grandmother would have reached the borders in time."
He glances away from her, if only to keep an eye for his brother and his horse, but the caravan is dense and they both excel at going unseen.
"You have come to Lothlórien, one of the few great strongholds of the Eldar," he explains for there is no one else who can. "The Enemy is at our northern border, mounting an assault as we speak. There are few wardens stationed in the far reaches, but even undefended, the woods are a safe harbor. They are well known to the Enemy. That you led two of the wraiths here is..."
He casts a look back, but they are far too deep into the wood to hear the combat or the death of that wraith. They are through the barrier and spared the darkness of the outside world. He worries, despite himself, but if his grandmother has perished it would be evident across all the woodlands.
"I will not say fortunate, for no aspect of wraiths can be considered so, but it was their mistake. Neither will survive to torment the world of men or elves again."