At midday, Haldir stopped by a stream to try and cool Alexa’s fever, which had steadily increased throughout the night. He heard her murmur something in her sleep. She was dreaming again. He leaned down and gently touched her shoulder and attempted to rouse her.
“Alexa. Awaken.”
But she would not rouse. He felt her brow. She was deathly pale and her fever was dangerously high. He filled a bowl with water from the stream, and began to wash her face and neck, hoping to cool her down. He stopped when he heard riders in the distance heading towards them. Drawing his sword, he turned sharply, prepared to defend himself and Alexa. Seeing him, the riders removed their hoods, revealing long, golden hair that flowed behind them as they rode. ~Elves!~ Haldir sheathed his sword, and went to meet them. As they neared, he recognized his two friends, Calatar and Macilon, advanced scouts of the Galadhrim.
“Haldir!” they called to him. Dismounting, they walked over and clasped arms with him.
“It is good to see you, my lord,” Macilon said. “What news of Rohan?”
“I have no time for that now,” Haldir told them. “I have brought a gravely wounded Elven woman with me. She was attacked three days ride from here.”
Calatar, a skilled healer, walked forward to check the elleth. He knelt beside her and carefully examined her wound. He gently placed his hand on her brow and was surprised by the intensity of the raging fever. Calatar rose and looked at Haldir solemnly. “Her wound is severe and heavily infected. I am surprised that she has survived this long.”
“I know,” Haldir told him. “I have tried everything I know to help her, and yet she worsens by the hour. She has not awakened for a day now. I had no choice but to bring her here.”
Calatar’s face was grave. “We are going to have to take her on horseback.”
“I do not believe she can suffer the ride,” Haldir said.
“No, she cannot. I will have to close the wound before we can attempt it.”
Haldir turned to Macilon. “Ride to Caras Galadhorn with great haste, and tell the healers I am bringing in a gravely wounded elleth in desperate need of healing. Tell them to be ready, and I will bring her in by tonight.”
Macilon nodded and quickly mounted. “Good luck, Haldir,” he said and rode quickly towards Lorien.
Calatar carefully cleaned the wound. He sighed heavily. The infection was far worse than he had initially thought. He closed the wound, realizing that doing so was probably causing the elleth a great deal of pain. However, she did not so much as stir during the ordeal, which caused him even greater concern. Calatar gently lifted the maiden and gave her to Haldir, who had already mounted Spitfire. “Ride with haste, Haldir. Do not stop. She does not have much time left.”
“I know,” Haldir said softly. Holding Alexa against him, he rode swiftly towards Lorien. As they rode, she roused slightly.
“Haldir?” she asked faintly. “What is happening?”
“I am riding you into Lorien, Alexa. We are out of time.”
“I am not afraid to die, Haldir,” she said softly, having sensed his meaning.
“I am not ready to let you die. There is still much I have to show you.”
She fainted again. Sensing his master’s danger, Spitfire quickened his pace. Haldir glanced down at her. Her breathing had become labored and shallow, and the pallor of her skin had turned gray. Death was in the air. He could feel it. It surrounded them.
“No! Do not give up! Do you hear me? Not after all of this,” he said desperately, his voice breaking. “Stay with me,” he begged. He looked around at the countryside flying by them. “You cannot have her!” he shouted into the air around them. “It is not her time!” He began to panic, for he could feel the life slowly leaving her.
The forest of Lothlorien loomed before them. He dug his heels into the animal, who quickened its pace until it could go no faster. He knew this animal would die before it would slow its pace. It loved Alexa too much. He saw the Elves of the Galadhrim in the trees as he galloped by. Flying into the city, he rode to the healers. Dismounting, he carried her inside.
“Lay her here,” one healer instructed him, pointing to a bed in the center area.
Haldir laid her on the bed, and moved back quickly, as many healers surrounded her. One healer, Failon, took his arm and led him outside.
“We will inform you as soon as we are finished,” Failon told him.
Haldir sank onto the ground as Failon went back inside. Haldir held his head in his hands, his heart breaking. He was utterly spent and consumed with worry. He did not know if he had gotten her to the healers in time to save her. When he had left her, she had appeared to be dead. He sighed heavily. ~I must go and seek Lady Galadriel’s counsel. Perhaps she can tell me more.~ Rising, he proceeded to seek out Galadriel.
As he entered the hall, he heard Galadriel’s voice. “I know what counsel you seek, Haldir, but I may not have all the answers you desire.” He stopped and bowed respectfully before her. He rose slowly and stared at her in reverent awe. After all these years, her beauty still surprised him. Her long, golden hair flowed about her, and the light from her being radiated throughout the room. Her mouth curved into a gentle smile that lit her wise blue eyes. She motioned for him to sit in the chair opposite her. Sitting down, he began to tell her all he knew of Alexa.
“Her name is Alexa. She conceals the fact that she is an Elf, my Lady, and she wants nothing to do with her people. She has told me of being sold into slavery by her father. I do not understand why a father, an Elven father, would sell his own child into slavery.”
“All things shall come to light, Haldir. I will speak with her when her condition has improved.”
Hope filled Haldir. “Does that mean she will live, my Lady?”
Galadriel looked at him and smiled gently. “She is strong.”
