The forest has always been the best place to reconnect oneself with nature and with himself. But it was also a very good place where one could suffer without having anybody watch. Trees and animals would never speak of it and would not judge if one was being engulfed by their past. Darkness was around every corner, be it in the forest or on the fields. Even from afar, humans and elves could feel the danger that was working day and night in order to regain its power. The closest to the gates of Mordor, the longest was the night and the briefer was the day. The people of Gondor knew that best, it's been months since the towers in Mordor lit up once more and fear returned.
But life was still very much in motion and people still had their daily responsibilities. Common folk had to work in order to be healthy and ready for when the fight will come. Blacksmiths in particular were being very active, making armors and swords. Mister Grover was happy to have his three smiths work so swiftly but even happier was to have an elf make sure the quality of their products was above any other smith's.
"I see you returned from your daily walk in the forest," Grover started smiling at the tall woman. She looked nothing like an elf in his view; more like a very imposing woman, a warrior if not for her pointy ears and melancholic looks.
"I'll finish my part until dusk, don't worry." She replied taking her station. Mistril was not a big chatter but she was a good blacksmith, which was really what mattered.
Grover laughed and nodded, watching her with content yet doubtful eyes.
"You know, you never told me about your bandages," he started making her tense. "Did you get hurt?"
"I got burned while working for my last employer. I have huge scars that I prefer to keep covered." She lied although some of it was close to reality.
Humans seemed to question every little detail but it was still better than when she first arrived in Gondor. She wanted to stop in a small village, find whatever work, and live peacefully for a while. But Mordor rose and so did Sauron's marks. In the end, she had to search for a place with more than 100 people.
"Oh, prepare yourself, Faramir is coming down the street," Grover said with a soft smile.
Mistril looked up and sighed, feeling like she couldn't do anything right. She had a sweet spot and it was for children, especially those whose fathers were very important.
"Why are you here again, Faramir?"
"Came to see you, of course. You are like a magnet for kids, Mistril. They all flock around you," one of her colleagues said laughing.
"Mistril! Look, father gave me and brother these new swords! It's a bit heavy but I can hold it!"
Faramir was just a child, around 10 most probably. His eyes were shining with excitement as he showed her his new possession. It was funny how he would come all the way to the blacksmith only for that but it was also bitter because he reminded her so much of her youth in Gondolin.
"Be careful with it, then. Don't sway it in someone's eye." She replied bending so that she could be at his eye level. "If it's too heavy for you right now, why don't you learn archery? It comes in handy a lot more than you think."
"But father says that archery is not fit for Gondor's Steward...Boromir is already training in the backyard with his teacher." Little Faramir said with a pout.
Mistril couldn't help but remember how jealous she was of her older brothers when they started to learn how to fight.
"Do you want to learn to fight so badly?" She asked looking at the child with nostalgia.
"Not really but father says that it is our duty to Gondor! But Boromir is the oldest, so he takes priority..." He added feeling like the sword he got was not enough.
Mistril chuckled, her heart so full of love and care for such a little human being with such big hopes. It was just like watching herself plead with her brothers to let her hang out with them and Glorfindel. With a deep sigh and a thought in the back of her mind that she will probably regret it later, she bent next to him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Should I teach you a trick or two, then?"
His blue eyes widened with joy and excitement and he jumped once or twice before he wrapped his hands around her neck. It did not mean anything, of course, but once he let her go the pressure seemed to still be hanging on.
Fire. All she could see was fire and darkness. She couldn't breathe and couldn't move. Her eyes fell on her wrists and noticed she was chained to a rock wall in Mount Doom. Her efforts to break free were in vain but what came upon her next made her freeze. Mistril did not raise her head but she did not have to since she could see his heavy shadow on the ground.
"Your time is fast approaching, Daewen. The Shadow of Angmar shall strike again for its master." She heard his low whisper.
"No," she whispered.
One blink and she found herself back in Dagorlad, elves and humans dead at her feet and blood dripping from her sword. She looked up and saw Glorfindel stare right into her eyes. He was terrified by something that she was holding in her other hand. She turned very slowly and saw she had a tight grasp on the head of the Elvenking. Her eyes widened and she cried out.
"NO!"
She was nowhere near Mount Doom but she was close to Mordor. The chances of having nightmares every single night were high, especially now that humans were speaking of it so often. She was sweating and could still feel the blood on her. Her bed was a mess and she was surprised she hasn't fallen off in her try to escape Sauron's doing. He was at fault for awakening Daewen and he took great pride in pushing her to the end of hope. His control was growing stronger and she had to draw blood in order to calm herself down.
The little house that she paid for was in the loneliest and most unused part of Gondor. She did not want any villagers to hear her cries during the night, and as of a few months, day. It was harder to differentiate what was real and what was Sauron's illusion. There was one bedroom, one extremely tight bathroom, and a kitchen that was also a living room. The building itself was barely holding on and winters were particularly breezy but she didn't care. It was almost like a self-induced punishment for what she remembered, a punishment that was still so irrelevant considering how many lives she took.
After carefully hiding her marks with bandages, she walked out and went to her workplace. She used the same route every day and she enjoyed her weekends in the forest. When she arrived there, she noticed Faramir waiting patiently in front of the front door.
"What brings you here so early? Have you even had breakfast yet?" She asked as she opened the door and went to her workstation. She was lighting the fire when little hands wrapped around her leg. "What is the matter, Faramir?"
"Father has instructed me not to come down here anymore so I need a reason to be able to spend less time at home."
"Why don't you find a new hobby? What is it that you like?"
"Watching you work. It looks very elegant compared to the rest of the men. Maybe because you are an elf but everything you do and say sounds elegant." The boy muttered. He heard some weird noise coming from her and noticed that she was laughing. He had never heard her laugh so joyously before.
"There are kingdoms of elves who would tell you otherwise. I cannot dance, sing or even stand in a proper way. My interest was never in such scholarly subjects."
"But they are fun! My mother loved music so much, it was a joy watching her and listening to her. Father is not at all interested in it. He only nags."
"He wants you to be able to protect Osgiliath from enemies. Believe my words, Faramir, the enemy strikes when you least expect it."
The boy pouted and sat on a nearby chair.
"But I don't want to be a warrior. Boromir is teaching me how to hold a sword but I don't want to hurt anyone. What about you, Mistril?" He asked as she started to work on a kitchen knife. "Do you like swords that much?"
"No. But I like the power it gives me, the safety I feel when I hold it. I don't like hurting others either but sometimes it happens." She replied thinking about all the lives she took in the past. "A sword is a promise to save lives rather than take them. I'm sure that is what drives your brother too."
"He likes to play war and go up to Minas Tirith and even near Minas Morgul. I prefer to go into the library."
Mistril glanced at him over her shoulder and sighed. He wasn't a warrior although his family was pushing him toward that path. His father was more interested in making his oldest son a true leader rather than understanding the needs of both Boromir and Faramir. She couldn't help but imagine herself and her younger sister. While their mother wanted Mistril to become a musician and play at the court, she probably gave less attention to the youngest sibling.
Faramir stayed put for a few hours until he felt hungry and pestered Mistril to go and have lunch with him.
"Feels like you're having a son, doesn't it?" Grover asked seeing how easily she complied. "Why do you even go with everything he asks? You should just hand him to his brother."
"He doesn't have many friends and he feels like an outsider at home. I can relate to that." She said but that was not the main reason. Faramir was a human boy with human needs and the childishness that he was exuding made her feel closer to Legolas. She missed the blond prince and she missed the cold gaze of the king.
While walking to buy something fresh to eat, Faramir was careful to speak of a new book he found about the heroes of the Second Age. There weren't that many people in Osgiliath but he still managed to run into somebody while walking backward so that he could look at her.
"Sorry," he mumbled. His head leaned back as his sight went up to a tall man in grey robes. He was old and held onto a stick that had a diamond or some type of stone at the top. "Wow." He couldn't help but gasp.
Mistril was not as enchanted to see him. She recognized him immediately as the man who returned her sword.
"Mithrandir. Is it a coincidence that we meet again?" She asked although both of them knew there was not such a thing when it came to his arrival.
The wizard smiled at the boy and then looked at Mistril.
"I am only here for documentation."
"Is that what you call it nowadays?"
"Come, come, lady Mistril, we have a boy here. He does not need to be acquainted with such sour subjects just yet."
"I want to. Actually, I request you do so. Are you a friend of Mistril's?" Faramir asked his interest in this old man only increasing.
"No. He is a wizard."
"Gandalf is my name," he introduced himself his eyes sparkling in the light. Mistril rolled her eyes at the way they seemed to shimmer with mischief.
They entered the bar and Faramir was more than happy to stand and speak to everyone he could recognize while also stuffing his face. That let the two adults speak comfortably.
"How are your marks?" He asked without even trying to butter her up. "Have they caused any troubles lately?"
"No. As long as I am far from other elves I am fine."
"Mordor is very close and it has been rumored to have awakened once more." Gandalf started looking rather puzzled. "I am sure you know nothing of it, but the darkness in Dol Guldur has prolonged to other lands as well."
"As long as the ring is hidden, there is no need to worry. It is still forgotten, isn't it, Mithrandir?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. When he didn't reply she felt terror come over her. "Where is the ring?"
"I would have wanted it to be in the depths of earth but I am afraid it came to light."
"Is it that creature that dwells in the goblin caves?" She asked leaning forward. "If that is so then-"
"I am afraid that Gollum has been separated from his ring. The creature lies in the most isolated cell in Mirkwood while the ring has been used in a hobbit's adventure. Bilbo has sworn to me that he has dropped it." Gandalf said calmly although she felt his tension.
"Do you believe him? If he used it, he must have felt its power and value. The ring changes people, Mithrandir. No matter the race or the rank."
"I know and I want to believe him. There is nothing to worry about."
"How did a hobbit get into the goblin caves anyway?"
"I want to hear the tale too!" Exclaimed Faramir as he sat next to the wizard. "Does it have a happy ending?"
"True tales rarely do little steward," Gandalf answered but he did tell the story of the hobbit that helped the dwarves of Erebor reclaim their mountain.
"Aw, but what good is it now that the king and his inheritors died? They fought for nothing."
"It is unfortunate indeed but their deaths rebuilt faith and gave the people of Lake Town a new home. Sometimes what matters more is the big picture. The dwarves regained their home and erased a threat."
"Erebor is a very good place where one can easily camp in order to destroy rather than save. It is better to have dwarves reign there than something evil." She explained to Faramir who nodded in reply. "Well, if that is all..."
But by the look Gandalf gave her, it was clear he had more to say.
"Faramir, you should go home." She said suddenly but the boy was engrossed in every word that came out from the wizard.
"But I want to hear more," he said with a pout.
"Why not come meet me in the library in the afternoon?" Gandalf whispered to him. Faramir's eyes widened and he nodded ardently. The desire to expand his knowledge was greater than his desire to please his father.
Faramir did not leave before he gave Mistril a hug. He liked that he got to meet such an interesting character through her.
"You hide the marks but that does not mean they are not there. I heard of what happened in Lorien." He started in a serious tone. "Has he reached out to you?"
"Every night." Her answer strongly displeased the wizard. "He is not strong enough but I hear his whispers. He is calling me back, threatening me, seducing me with power, any way just so I will let my guard down."
"He will ask for the ring soon. Do not let yourself be tempted, Mistril. He will attack you with your most precious memory."
"He cannot read inside my mind. Nor can Lady Galadriel." The elleth snarled.
"Thranduil must be the exception, then," He said with a knowing smirk. "He did not forget you. However far you run, these feelings will never fade."
"I know. But I can't stop my heart, can I? As long as he is safe, as Legolas is safe, then everything is alright." She ended that subject briefly. She did not need a wizard to meddle in her romantic life.
"Then maybe you should return to Mirkwood for a short time. Aid them into protecting their kingdom now when the powers of evil are still insignificant."
"What if I kill someone?"
Mistril was worried for the safety of everyone except herself. The wizard was reluctant in giving her a second chance, especially after her fits in Lothlorien but now that time passed and she was more in control of her emotions, he dared take a risk.
"I hope that won't be the case."
