IV - The Gift of Mortality
Legolas followed Elrond, Galadriel and the twins from the great hall. He paid no heed to the winding passageways and the spiralling staircases that led them up to the next level, for his thoughts were turned to the gem he carried, and he felt its weight growing in his mind. It was a sorrowful burden; and yet he felt strangely calm, as if he was nearing the end of another journey, a journey of great importance, although he himself had only joined it at the very end.
Finally they halted outside a richly ornamented door, and Lord Elrond bade them enter into a spacious, exquisitely furnished chamber. Wide windows in the shape of seashells admitted the warm light of a late afternoon sun. Alongside two of the interior walls stretched tall bookshelves, laden with countless volumes of all sizes. More books were scattered about the wide, delicately wrought table in a corner near the windows. Low settees and comfortable-looking armchairs beckoned invitingly. However, no one took a seat. There was a long moment of silence as Elrond walked over to stand by the windows, staring out across the white city.
Finally, the Elven lord turned back into the room to face his guests. His expression was one of calm composure, but there was a slight tremor in his voice when he spoke.
"I bid you welcome once more, Legolas Greenleaf. It was with both joy and sorrow that I hurried to Alqualondë upon hearing of your impending arrival, for any tidings you bring from Endor (1) will convey memories of happiness and grief for me." He hesitated for a moment, his eyes clouding over. "Forgive me for being so direct. Is there aught you can tell me that would soothe a grieving father?"
Legolas almost quailed under the imploring gaze of the mighty Elven lord. What could he say but that would bring further pain to Elrond? Yet he had known this moment would come when he had offered to escort the Lady Arwen on her last journey, a task he had undertaken because of the love he bore both her and her king. Now, as a last service to these two so dear to his heart, he had to offer what consolation he could to her father and brothers.
"My lord, I cannot take from you the pain that is in the knowledge of the fate the Lady Arwen has chosen. It is fulfilled now. King Elessar has departed. I took leave of the Queen at the edge of Lórien in the fading light of an autumn evening last year, and it was as if the starlight had disappeared for ever underneath the leafless trees." Legolas nearly faltered at the memory of the cloaked figure melting into the shadows among the naked mallorn trees. But then another, much older memory came to him, a memory of laughing voices and sparkling eyes, of little hands reaching out, dark-haired children clamouring to be picked up by their father's old friend, begging him to take them on a ride in the wide fields outside another White City. Little hands that now were strong enough to wield a sword, yet gentle, with a healer's power; and eyes that were wise enough to rule, and to inspire respect and love. This memory gave him the strength to continue.
"Like the fading of all starlight, it seemed to me. But I take consolation in the knowledge that in her children, Arwen Undômiel lives on. King Eldarion is both wise and compassionate, and he dotes on his twin sisters. Indeed, Elladwen and Elrahel are of a beauty that has not walked Middle-earth since the days of Lúthien Tinuviël, save in the likeness of their mother. But for seeing their strength, and love for each other and their people, I would have left the Hither Shores with a heavy heart."
Elrond passed his hands over his eyes and reached out as if to seek for support. In a swift movement, the Lady Galadriel was at his side, taking his arm. Elladan and Elrohir stood motionless, but their eyes spoke of the conflicting emotions that this account had triggered. It occurred to Legolas that perhaps they had not known that their sister had given birth to daughters who, like they themselves, were so alike each other in appearance and conduct that only those who knew them long could tell them apart.
He hesitated for a moment, not sure how to continue with this, the most difficult part of his tale. "My lord, Lady Arwen stood by her choice, although it was grievous beyond bearing in the end. Her last words were for you." He reached inside the folds of his tunic and drew forth the jewel he had been carrying with him since that last parting. "She bade me give you this, saying that this way, the Evenstar would remain forever in the Undying Lands."
With these words, Legolas extended his open palm, in which lay the beautifully wrought pendant on its silver chain. It caught a ray of sunlight, and a bright flash of silver-green sparked off the jewel, almost blinding those looking upon it. Elrond reached out, and with trembling fingers took the Evenstar from Legolas's hand.
"There is still life in the Evenstar," he whispered, tears shining in his eyes. The Lady Galadriel touched the glittering jewel with her fingertips and smiled, a deeply sad smile.
"There will always be. The love she had for those closest to her heart will endure."
These words offered comfort, yet it was not the Lady Galadriel who spoke them.
It was a new voice, a voice so melodious it filled the hearts of everyone in the room with song, though the song was sad beyond measure. As one, the Elves sank to their knees and bowed their heads, for they knew they were in the presence of one of the Ainur.
"Do not grieve for your daughter, Elrond, son of Eärendil," the gentle voice continued. "It was her appointed doom to be the Evenstar of her people. With her choice, she ensured that there will be some among the Apanónar who treasure the lore of the Firstborn, and who are blessed with your kindred's love for the earth and respect for all living things. And if you take no consolation in this knowledge, perhaps you will find it in this: Although for a short while Arwen Undômiel will still wander among the shadows of Lórien, she will eventually pass through the Halls of Mandos where Elessar awaits her."
At this, Elrond lifted his head. In the middle of the room stood a small, slender figure robed in a dark grey cloak. It was as if a veil concealed her features, yet she wore none; it was more a shifting of light and shadow that kept her face hidden from view. Despite her lithe stature, the power that emanated from this Vala was such that Elrond, mighty among Elves on Middle-earth and in Aman, could not bear to look at her for long, and he lowered his gaze again.
"Yes, like Beren Erchamion and Lúthien Tinuviël, they will be together again," the song in their ears and their hearts went on. "And together, they will depart from my brother's Halls to embark on that journey of which the Eldalië know nothing, and will not learn until the day when Ilúvatar uncovers the entirety of his design to the Valar and all his Children. Such is the gift of mortality that he offered to your daughter." The grey figure stooped and placed her palm against Elrond's forehead. "She will find her peace. May you find yours."
For a long time, there was silence in the light-flooded room. Legolas knew that the Vala had left them, as silently as she had appeared; yet he dared not lift his gaze again. His heart was in turmoil, for he had never before been in the presence of such an ancient and powerful being, save in that dark hour in Moria when he and his companions had faced the Balrog. But where the terror of shadow and flame had filled his soul with dread, this soft and sorrowful song had left his heart weeping and laughing at the same time.
A light hand touched his shoulder. Legolas looked up to see Elladan standing next to him, smiling through unshed tears. The other three Elves were sitting together on one of the low settees, heads bowed, hands entwined. The Evenstar hung on its chain around Lord Elrond's neck.
Legolas quickly got his feet. He felt out of place, felt he didn't belong here in this private moment of grief, and was about to turn to leave quietly. At that moment, Elrond lifted his head, and met his gaze. The Elven lord's eyes, although still full of pain, showed acceptance, and a shimmer of hope. A slow smile lit his face as he got up and took a few steps towards Legolas.
"Hannon le, Legolas Thranduilion. You shall always have my deepest gratitude for making the last journey with the Evenstar." He touched the glittering jewel on his chest, and inclined his head.
Legolas was at a loss for words upon seeing the former Lord of Imladris bow to him. Silently, he returned the courteous gesture. When he lifted his head again, his eyes met those of the Lady Galadriel who had come to stand beside Lord Elrond; and he knew there was no need for words, for Galadriel's smile told him she could see into his soul, and read all that was there.
"Go and rest, Legolas of the Nine Companions."
Her soft voice triggered a fatigue that he had not felt before, and he acquiesced gratefully, taking his leave of the lords and lady. When he reached the door, Elladan, who accompanied him, put a hand on his arm.
"Hannon le, mellon nîn. I know you loved our sister and her husband dearly." The pain of the memory showed clearly on the handsome face, so like that of the Lady Arwen. "When the time is right, I would have you tell us more about her, and our gwador (2). We miss Estel as much as we grieve for our sister."
Legolas nodded mutely, and slipped out the door. It closed noiselessly behind him, and he stood as one rooted the ground. A thousand thoughts swirled around in his head, yet he could not hold on to a single one. He knew not how long he had been standing there when a voice woke him from his trance-like state.
"Legolas?"
Legolas looked up in confusion. A tall, white-robed figure came into focus, a benign face framed by a mane of white hair and beard. Their eyes met, and after a long moment Gandalf nodded.
"So you have heard Nienna's song. I will ask no more." The Istari put a friendly hand on the bewildered Elf's shoulder. "Come. I will show you the way to your chambers. You should follow our short friend's example and rest before the banquet tonight." When Legolas did not respond but silently fell into step with him, Gandalf eyed him from the side and chuckled. "You would have been the first one not to be overwhelmed by this experience."
The old wizard led the Elf through a maze of brightly lit corridors, up even more stairs and down again, past countless courtyards and chambers, until Legolas would surely have lost any sense of where they were, even if he had paid any attention. But he just followed Gandalf, withdrawn into himself entirely, for the encounter with the Vala had shaken him to the core; and the wizard did not speak, respecting the Elf's silence.
At last, Gandalf halted at the end of a narrow passageway and opened a door to the left, holding it open and motioning for Legolas to enter. With a visible effort, Legolas returned from the faraway realms his mind had been wandering.
"Mithrandir? I… where is Gimli?"
Gandalf smiled and pointed back the way they had come. "His chambers are on the other side of that courtyard. You should be able to hear his snoring." Indeed, although it would have been inaudible for a human ear, Legolas could easily pick out the familiar, if somewhat exasperating sound. His own smile, however, was tinged with sadness.
"He is not the same he used to be, Mithrandir. He is old."
The wizard looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment before he replied.
"Yes, Legolas. I have noticed it. Such is the fate of his race, even if here it may be slowed a little."
The Elf bowed his head. "I know," he whispered. Gandalf's eyes filled with compassion. "Do not think of that now, my friend. Rest a while." And with those words, he left.
Legolas stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The room was small but friendly, with two wide windows and a door leading out onto a balcony. A table and a stool stood facing a small bookshelf to the left, and to the right, two steps led up to a raised dais, in the middle of which stood a wide bed. Soft cushions and colourful blankets were scattered about the mother-of-pearl frame. Legolas's tired body and mind yearned to follow the invitation to lie down and fall into a dreamless sleep. But he knew he would not find peace. So he walked over to the open windows and, finding the ledge wide enough, made himself comfortable on the windowsill, sitting with his knees drawn up and looking out over the city towards the sea.
As Legolas watched the sky grow gradually darker, his thoughts wandered back to Mithrandir's words. 'Such is the fate of his race.' And his fate seemed to be to watch friends die, he thought, not without a trace of bitterness. He had learnt much about mortality since that day he had set out for Rivendell with news of the escape of the creature Gollum, not knowing then what these tidings meant and how this journey would change him so entirely. He had seen so much grief because of mortality, and yet he was not sure that the immortality granted to his kindred was so desirable. Nienna's song came back into his heart, and he wondered, as so often before, where the Secondborn and all the other races of his old world went after their lives were spent.
He leant his head back against the cool wall and closed his eyes. He was so very tired. Perhaps it would be kinder to rest forever at some point.
(1) Endor Middle-earth
(2) gwador sworn brother