(PTII)Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 4)

Chapter 8: In Galadriel's Realm

"Ah! What a piece of craftsmanship indeed!" Kalan exclaimed, clapping his gloved hands together with barely suppressed glee. "I'm surprised that such skill exists among the elves!"

"Well you see, I acquired this one from a merchant in Gondor but-" Edhael stopped when he noticed Gerithor watching them. "Ah, Gerithor! How goes the negotiations?"

"Worse than I hoped, better than I expected," Gerithor replied with a sigh. "They will allow the dwarves to pass."

"I guess I judged 'em too soon!" Kalan said with a laugh.

"But they must enter unarmed," Gerithor finished. Kalan's smile immediately faded at these words.

"Well, I'd be willin' to compromise in that way I suppose... But I can't say the same for my lads. They're not gonna be too happy about this, mark my words! It's like pokin' a bee's nest with a blunt sword... Bloody stupid and not very helpful!" He shook his head as he stood from the stump he had been sitting on and stalked away to speak with his soldiers. Edhael shrugged his shoulders.

"That one isn't so bad. The rest... Not my type of fellows," he said as he began to tune his lute. "Too greedy and proud for their own good."

"Well if you want my two pence, your people share the proud bit," Gerithor replied wryly. "It's just a different sort of proud."

"I can agree there, my friend. Dwarves are proud in the sense that they think they're the best at what they do... Which is justified in a way. Elves are proud in that they think they're infinitely wiser than the other races of Middle Earth. Also somewhat justified. But what they fail to realize is that Men are far more adaptable than both... And if Middle Earth continues to exist unharmed for more than the next year or so, Men will be the rulers of it. Not elves or dwarves. They shall fade into the mists of obscurity, their stubbornness causing their downfall." Edhael leaned against the tree behind him and closed his eyes lazily. "But what do I know? I'm just a minstrel."

"Even minstrels have a purpose, mellon nin. And for what it's worth, I think that you're far wiser than you show," Gerithor said. Edhael merely smiled wryly and began to play several chords on his instrument, his expression betraying nothing of what his thoughts were on the compliment.

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Without the rest of the company to care for, Gerithor and Haldir arrived at Caras Galadhon quickly. Though it was dark, the city was lit with a pale light and was visible from far away. The boughs of the trees did little to hide the otherworldly magnificence of the elven city, and Gerithor looked upon it with wonder. Elves descended down spiral staircases that wove among the trees, like angelic beings descending from heaven. A road lined with white stones led to the foot of a massive tree that stood at the middle of the city, a giant that Gerithor thought must have stood tall since the earth first formed. It seemed to the ranger that he was looking through a window into another time, one where the elves were still in the height of their power. His thoughts wandered to that age, when all of Middle Earth was at peace. Perhaps that age never truly existed, but a place of such purity was a vision of what such a time would look like.

As he looked upon the city he felt a sudden joy, a feeling of peaceful bliss that took his mind and body far from the world of darkness he had been in just hours before.

Haldir followed Gerithor's gaze up the trees, his mouth turning up in a wistful smile. "Under normal circumstances, I would give you a tour of the city. But the Lady was quite urgent in her request, and wishes to speak with you immediately."

"I understand. Perhaps I shall return under better conditions some day," Gerithor replied, his eyes not leaving the ethereal city.

Haldir nodded. "Come, the lady awaits."