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“Vaele Andarion, scout and marksman of the first rank,” the archer corrected with a smile.
Gilduin murmured a vague ‘pleased to meet you’. Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense for a scout to be marching in the first rank. Glancing around, he saw that most of the elves near them were dispersing for the night. The captains were returning to Caras Galadhon, presumably to meet with Celeborn. The other warriors were resting or wandering among the trees, conserving their strength for the march the next day.
“Maybe we get to march together then?” Vaele asked, after a moment.
Gilduin suppressed a rather hopeful ‘maybe not?’ and tried to change the subject, not wishing to explain that he found it difficult to communicate with people. “Are you prepared for the march?” he asked. He continued without waiting for an answer. “You should rest until the commander returns. I do not know how early we will leave.” He gave a polite bow and turned away, seeking solitude among the star-crowned trees.
~
Gilduin wandered, half-dreaming, in the silent darkness of the Golden Wood. Though he stayed close to the city, his mind roamed far, finding strength in the power of Laurelindórinan. In the still, dark hours before dawn, a melodic horn call summoned the contingent together. Withdrawing from his nighttime reverie, Gilduin slowly joined the muster to find his place in the first rank. The noise of the contingent was muted, as if no one was willing to disturb the predawn stillness.
“Ah, Lindorion, there you are.” Eldegon addressed Gilduin quietly, looking harried. “Our lord Celeborn has decided to lead the contingent himself. There’s been a slight change in the marching order, but it shouldn’t affect you much. Make sure you are ready to march: we leave as soon as the contingent is assembled.”
Gilduin checked his weapons and the standard as the commander left. Finding nothing wrong, he waited while the ranks fell into place. Vaele Andarion, the scout he had met the previous evening, took up position on his left. Gilduin gave a mental sigh, but found he did not mind seeing the other as much as he had expected. To his surprise, he found it comforting to see a familiar face.
Slowly, the sky began to lighten. Celeborn, Eldegon and the captains walked up and down the ranks, speaking quietly to the elves. At last the full company was assembled, and the leaders took their places in the first rank. The herald played one long, sweet note on his silver horn. From the city many voices answered: the Galadrim sang to greet the dawn and farewell their warriors and their lord. From his position on Celeborn’s right, Eldegon gave the call to march, and the contingent moved forward, past the city, with the rising sun behind them.
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