CHAPTHER 1
CALEITHIEL
The forest seemed dim, as if a reminder of home was growing through its roots. Even the forest was now something that weighed on my mind. I felt myself weaken; nearly building brittleness along the lining of my skin as I my slight grief surged through it. Though, it was not so slight any longer. For it has not been for quite some time now: it had grown from night and day, stars and sun, and though Gandalf had known that, it was getting bad enough that even I began to notice through all my stubbornness. I was dying, and not even the warmth of the trees could save me now; not even Gandalf's humor, or the birds, or the rain, the river by the old oak tree in Breeland, nothing.
I was dying of a grief I knew not of.
I made my way towards the light that signified as the forest edge, and as I neared, I saw Gandalf, readying his wagon. I paused for a moment; and more ill came to my mind.
The factor of our send-off from this forest was lean, for we had just arrived to the trees of Brethil the day before yesterday. More often than not, when we travel, we linger in the same destination for moon after moon. Yet, something was wrong this day, and I could feel change in the ground. Gandalf was leaving, and on his own this time.
For we have parted before, yet only to retrieve and return, other than that we were a compound, never leaving the other for more and a three moons night.
I struggled to make my way over to him fast enough to satisfy my eager mind, for my body was weaker now than it had ever been and I had not liked the taste of it. I came up slowly behind him and paused; watching him fill his wagon of pipe weed and fireworks with the rough hands of a wooden-staff-keeper.
My brows formed downward, slanting toward the bridge of my nose, yet I relaxed them. There was no good use in being confused with Gandalf, at least not when you have ability with patients.
"You are leaving." I said softly with a tilt of my head that suggested somberness in me. He turned to me, with surprise in his face, I suppose he forgot how stealthy elves were, or that I would have return and caught him in the middle of his departure. But, where shock was, grew an understanding, apologetic smile, and he nodded his head slightly.
"Yes." He murmured, returning to his packing, "to the shire." He said clearer.
"Were you to leave without warning?" I asked, while scaling onto the ledge of his wagon, which I found difficult, as much had been during passed days. There was no use in putting irritation in my voice; I found little use in it as well as anger, for they never quite sufficed well with Gandalf.
He did not answer, and went on whistling a humble tune, that seemed to fade at the break of his lips. By the amount of pipe weed he had packed, I should have known he was going to Hobbiton. "Is it Bilbo then?" I asked. Dear old Bilbo, who Gandalf held near in his heart; It must be a party of some sort, judging by the array fireworks tucked away in the left corner of the old wooden cart; a party of which I received no enticement.
"His eleventy-first birthday." He said, covering up his shortness with a small smile. He sounded slightly troubled. And whether it was of Bilbo, or of our near departure I was not sure.
"eil shar os si vol?" (And what of the ring) I whispered quickly. He stopped his packing and stared at the ground for a moment, and then looked around him. For this was a subject not to be heard by seedy ears. He brought his face back down to the grass; it must be the ring that is weighing on him. Finally he looked up at me, dimly avoiding my eyes.
"I shall learn if it is indeed the one ring before the week is out." He said softly in his old, yet very strong voice, and then went back to his packing, dismissing the matter. I jumped down from his wagon, preparing myself to soothingly confront him. If Bilbo indeed had the one ring, we must bring it to the house of Elrond. Yet, before I could lift my lips, the jolt of reaching the ground hit me, and I nearly tumbled over. Gandalf caught a glimpse of my stumble out of the corner of a wise eye. Calmly, I collected myself and aligned my body upright, standing tall from the ground. Gandalf stopped his packing and brought all focus upon me.
An exhale broke from the paleness of his brittle teeth.
"Dear friend," he said sweetly, "no more troubling thoughts." I tilted my head away from him, and thought silently in a swell of stubborn solemn. I suppose I was the slightest bit frustrated by his leaving, but Gandalf always meant the best, and I quickly let go of what anger I held with him and the matter. "It's part of my plan, you know." He said, referring to his parting.
"Always a plan with you." I said with dry humor. "Can I not go with you friend?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. Gandalf was quite unpredictable though, I suppose that was the only reason I had questioned, for I had the slightest hope in me that he may allow me to convoy him once more.
Yet, he smiled, shook his head, and coddled "no, child." My hope submerged to the back of my mind, and I felt a little weaker. "It would not go along with the plan, you see." He smiled even greater. "Besides, those shire-lings would fall ill of excitement if an elf-maiden of Lorien were to roam Hobbiton, let alone a royal elf-maiden of Lorien, They may as well drop of death!" he explained with great enthusiasm. We laughed together.
"The shire," I hummed, as our laughter died out. "I have longed to see it. You know, it's probably the one pleasant place I have not been," I sighed.
"See the shire?" Gandalf gasped, I looked at him faintly puzzled. "My friend, the shire longs to see you!" he said, chuckling again. "See the shire," he mumbled to himself, "your quite the odd elf my dear." He declared, while absent mindedly wagging his finger at me. I must have laughed the most I've ever laughed this whole day.
"But a dear Elf to you nonetheless," I objected humbly.
"Ay that you are." He nodded, "and because of that, I must leave." He said, allowing the conversation to die down for a moment. I crossed my arms and leaned against a nearby tree.
"And where am I to go?" I asked myself allowed, waiting for Gandalf to answer for me.
"home." He answered quickly. "It would smother your grief, and the small bit of your mothers as well. For you belong on the thrown Calethiel." He said with the upmost seriousness. I laughed at his words as I took a jar of pipe weed from his wagon and fiddled with it in my hands. It was in fact too easy to figure his intentions sometimes.
"And by home you mean Rivendell? Of course, knowing I would never go home to Lorien unless on my own terms." I said slickly. He smiled his very widest smile and placed his hands on his heart.
"Ay, curse me for trying to fool an elf." He chuckled, while tossing me his old wooden whittled pipe. I stuffed the jar and the pipe both in my small leather sac I wore around my back, and continued to laugh along with him.
As we pulled his wagon over to Shadowfax, and I helped Gandalf prepare to take leave, I could not help but think of Gandalf's "plan." This was a normal thing for me, but now that the two of us are parting, I much desired to ask him about it, just this once.
"Friend," I started gently, "do not think me a fool, for I already know you never share you preparations with me, nor anyone, but just this once my desire to know has gotten the better of me. Will you not tell me something more than a riddling fortune?" I nearly begged.
Gandalf looked at me with his old eyes, and smiled, pushing every wrinkle to either side of his face, "Elven groveling?" he laughed, "Well that is certainly a sight I must say." He smirked at me as I helped him onto the wagon.
I sighed, "A fortune then?" I settled.
He hummed a laugh or two, smiled his greatest smile yet this day, and said "Your happiness lies within the good messenger of the woodland realm."
I nodded, accepting my last fortune before I proposed him farewell.
"Smile, Calethiel." Gandalf demanded, as sweetly as he could.
I shook my head. "Do not worry friend," I assured him with a smile. "I do not doubt your ability to do me a common favor. If this is best then I bid you good leave taking. Bitterness would weigh more on me now than ever." I said, stepping back from his wagon, and giving him room to ride away.
"We shall meet again; do not lose faith in me yet." He said, as he gave Shadowfax the signal to go.
"Another fortune?" I asked, calling out to him.
"A promise." He said shallow, knowing my elf ears would hear. I could feel his mouth stretch wide from corner to corner even from yards away, it made me smile myself.
It was odd, watching him ride off. I studied his wagon for as long as my elven eyes allowed me. My sweet friend was gone. Once he was out of complete sight, I was not sure of what to do with myself. I stood there for a moment, in our clearing that we had spent so little in. I suppose I should head for Rivendell, considering going home to lothlorien was not even an option in my mind. Without another thought, I whistled for my horse, Glindofin, and began to travel in the opposite direction of Gandalf, making sure I did not look back.