War was very close.
It was late morning on a cloudy day, and Aldamir was once again sitting on the River-point, absentmindedly fletching an arrow as his mind wandered elsewhere. His clear, grey-blue eyes were gazing far off into the distance as his fingers worked with the feathers and the grey wood; his dark hair was stirred by a gentle breeze. But in his eyes there was an unhappy shadow.
As of late matters had been growing serious. Reports came of frequent attacks on Rohan, and the orcs of Saruman were becoming increasingly bold and dangerous. Orcs, and other foul creatures were also issuing from the Morannon and falling upon unguarded places in Gondor. It was no longer safe to go alone into the wild.
Sighing, the Elf set the finished arrow down and fingered a little fern growing out of a patch of moss. The tender, green, wispy little plant slid against his fingers, and he warmed to its small life. Glancing up at the sky, he scanned the grey clouds covering and frowned slightly. A silver little drop splashed onto his cheek, and he took up the arrow quickly. �No use to let a good arrow get spoiled,� he said to himself, getting up and walking back into the forest.
Adding the new grey dart to his quiver, he climbed to his flet and chose a spot where the gently falling rain penetrated the shadowy, leafy canopy and fell onto the flet. Sitting down, he rested his back against the mallorn�s strong trunk and lifted his face to the rain. He closed his eyes as the cool drops hit his face, taking comfort from their wet caress. Even though all else seemed to be turning dark, rain was still the same; wet, cool, life-giving, comforting.
A footstep beside him alerted him to Lindir�s presence, and he opened his eyes. �Suilad, mellon,� he greeted him.
�Suilaid,� responded Lindir. �Have you nothing better to do than to sit in the rain?� he teased, but with little mirth.
Aldamir smiled; then the smile faded. �Why do you look like that?�
Lindir sighed softly. �We have been recalled to Caras Galadhon; the Lady wishes to speak with the Galadhrim,� he said, gazing off into the trees. �I�m certain it has to do with the Shadow, and the wars. It�s something serious, but I don�t know what.�
Aldamir looked down at the patterns carved into the grey wood beneath him. �Are we leaving now?�
Lindir nodded. �We�re to be in Caras Galadhon tomorrow morning.�
Aldamir stood up and watched the silver raindrops fall among silver and green mallorns. �Well, let us be off then.�
It took only a few minutes for the Elves to gather up their weapons and ready themselves to leave the border. But before they left, Aldamir saw Haldir in close conversation with the Elves who had brought the message, and wondered at it. Haldir seemed worried, and the other Elf seemed to less troubled. He waited with the other Elves until their captain was ready to go, and then fell into step beside him as they left for Caras Galadhon.
�What is happening?� he asked. �Is it serious?�
Haldir nodded. �I believe it is. R�ndir said it had something to do with Rohan; what, I do not know, but it seems that the country is weakening under the harassment of the accursed orcs of Saruman. More I do not know, and neither does R�ndir.�
Aldamir fell silent. What was happening in Rohan that was so serious as to make Galadriel call upon her warriors?