Men, women, and children were gathered in the courtyard from all over the city. Today, King Elessar would honor those who fought in the War of the Ring. For the people, it was exciting to be able to witness such an event that was making history, for these statues would stand for all time. The wall was nearly completed, Rammas Echor was almost entirely repaired, and the damage that had been done during the War that had taken years to repair within the City itself had been completed earlier this year. It was time to celebrate, and everyone in Minas Tirith was looking forward to the following celebration.
The King in question stood just within the door of the Tower's exit to the courtyard, waiting to enter the place he would speak. He had been waiting to honor his friends for quite some time, and if this was the only way he could do it, so be it. He did not like to make speeches; however, on occasion they were necessary. These forms would stand as a testament in stone for all they had done for both Middle-Earth, and, in a much more personal way, for him. For what was there in his character that each of these friends had not helped him bring out? Each one had played a role of significance in his life and their courage, love, honor, and companionship had touched him deeply.
Standing a few feet away was his Queen, and she took in the full sight of her husband. His shining armor and royal cloak added to his proud stature and his face was noble and just. The crown set upon his head seemed to her as if it should always have been there, and it fit as if it had been made for him. A green stone hung around his neck within the breast of an eagle and it shone brightly in the sun. Arwen moved behind Aragorn, smoothing his cloak down over his shoulders. He turned towards her and smiled gently. He lifted her chin with his fingertips, watching the sun flicker in the gems of her crown; she wore blue, a color matching her beautiful eyes. She was just as lovely now as she had been in the firelight last evening.
"You are more radiant than the stars in the evening, my Lady," he whispered, and he pressed his lips to her forehead. She smiled and looked up at him.
"My Lord, you flatter me as always, but if I am the evening then you most certainly are the morning, for you shine more brightly and more handsomely than the sun ever shall. And here you are…in the City that once was known as Minas Anor." She kissed his chin, and held his shoulders tightly, hoping to pass on her strength to him. "You look distinguished and powerful, and if that would frighten some, it would be your kind eyes that would return them to you. All will go well, my Lord. You do your friends great honor today; know that their thoughts, even though some have gone, are with you."
"Your words are kind, beloved." He glanced back to the gathered crowd. "They are about to announce us."
"Are you ready, my Lord?" she asked softly, and he turned to meet her eyes and smiled.
"I do not believe I should ever be ready…not for this. Surely, I shall do my best." He extended to her his arm, she took it, and together they moved out into the sunlight of the courtyard. The shouts of the people filled their ears while the waving of hands and the smiling of faces filled their eyes. The people loved their King and Queen without a doubt.
Within the first few rows of the crowd stood Enguina, Legolas, and Gimli. On the dais near him, the King saw Faramir and Éowyn and he nodded to them. King Elessar smiled at his people and held up a hand to lead them to silence. Arwen released his arm and stood nearby.
Enguina watched from Legolas's side below; she had known that Arwen and Aragorn were well-loved by their people, but she had no idea the depth of their love. Looking at the faces around her, there was not a single person who was not hanging on every word that was going to come from the King's lips. More eyes were fixed on Arwen, for even though they saw her most days within the City, she was even more beautiful on the dais before them…and to be so visibly with child! The people had so many reasons to rejoice. Even Hildanir, who she had met the day she had arrived, stood on the dais with a large wooden chest before him, covered statues to his right. Enguina glanced over at Legolas, but even his eyes were fixed on Aragorn. It gave her a moment to study his profile…and then she blushed as she too should have been paying his words some attention.
"We are gathered here today to honor those who have accomplished extraordinary deeds for Middle-Earth. Each man and woman, elf and mortal, hobbit and dwarf, pledged their lives to make peace out of Sauron's destruction. Let us remember today the sacrifice each of them made during the War…and how true each one held to their purpose. Today we will remember them by giving an account of some of the tales of the Great War, and the downfall of the Lord of the Rings.
"Allow me to begin at the time of the Fellowship of the Ring's battle on the shores of the Anduin above Rauros Falls." The King looked over to Hildanir and nodded once; the young guard moved forward and removed the covering from the first statue. Nearly all that stood in the courtyard knew his face, and many bowed their heads in honor of him. "Who here can say they do not remember the fair stature and proud shield of Boromir, son of Denethor? Many of you knew him as a leader of the people, a fierce warrior for this country. I knew him as the most noble of men…and a loyal friend, who sought always to do for Gondor what he knew to be the best for its interests. He fought to save the lives of two young hobbits known well in this land until he could do so no longer. He fought bravely and he never lost his honor."
Elessar bowed his crowned head. "In his last moments, he thought only of you, Minas Tirith, his City, his people. Only for Gondor did he regret his own passing, for he wished to fight on to restore its strength and glory." He extended his hand again toward the statue. "This statue of Boromir, son of Gondor, shall remain in our fair city as a testament to those who fought and are still fighting for the realm of the Reunited Kingdom, and for those who have passed away. Forever, in stone, will he be seen upon the wall, gazing ever Northward to Rauros Falls until the end of days. People of Gondor…let us remember them. These are our brethren." He said a silent prayer for them and then lifted his head to look upon Faramir whose gaze was sorrowful. Éowyn held his arm gently as his eyes looked at his brother's face carved into the stone. Elessar smiled at them softly.
"I would call forward Faramir, Prince of Ithilien, Captain of the Guard, son of Gondor, and brother of Boromir." Faramir was taken completely by surprise, but he let go of Éowyn and moved forward towards the King. King Elessar looked down upon him, his grey eyes filled with a kindly light. "There are many ties between brothers whose bonds are strong. There is much honor in you, just as there was in your brother; you have proved yourself a hundred times over to this City. May the strength in your blood sustain you, son of Denethor." Faramir bowed his head, and the King placed a hand on his shoulder. "I wish to give you something." He turned and Hildanir stepped up beside him, placing what seemed to be leather in his hands. Elessar looked back to Faramir, and the man could see that they were worn leather vambraces etched with the emblem of the White Tree.
"Five years ago, I comforted and blessed your brother as he passed away in my arms by the River Anduin." Faramir's eyes were stunned; he never knew that Aragorn had been there when his brother died. "Legolas, Gimli, and I placed him in a boat upon the river to be carried over the falls with the weapons of his slain enemies at his feet. We sang a lament, the words of which I cannot utter again, and when we could see his boat no longer, we grieved much for his passing. As a tribute to this son of Gondor, I took from his wrists these leather vambraces and placed them on my own. This was so the memory of Boromir would live on, that he would continue to fight without hesitation as he had before." As he spoke, he removed those that were on Faramir's wrists and replaced them with those he held. "May you now take these vambraces of your brother and wear them in memory and in honor of him." Faramir's eyes shone with tears and he bowed low before him.
"How do I thank you, my Lord?" he whispered, and the King laid his right hand on Faramir's head.
"No gratitude is needed when I owed your brother such a debt. A blessing on you and your house, Faramir, Son of Gondor! May the love of your brother and his love for you live forever in your heart. Go in peace." King Elessar removed his hand and Faramir stood. His love for the King was shining in his eyes as he took his position beside Éowyn once again. Hildanir stepped forward and removed the coverings of the next statue, revealing a fearsome horse and rider with a sword uplifted before the sky.
"Who here does not remember the riding of the Rohirrim in the Battle of Pelennor Fields? This statue of Théoden son of Thengel, King of Rohan at the time of the battle, will remain a standing pledge of the good will between the realm of the Reunited Kingdom and the realm of Rohan; whenever one is besieged or beset by evil, the other shall ride to help. Théoden King passed away at Pelennor Fields, but he is not forgotten by his people, nor by those who loved him. He was a strong and valiant King, and his sister-son who now leads the people of Rohan, is a man of his character. This statue is also, in part, in memorial of those who have passed away of Rohan, and in honor of those who will fight to protect those boundaries still. People of Gondor, let us remember them. These are our brethren."
Hildanir stepped forward again and revealed the second to the last statue. Carved in this stone was the gentle face of a Halfling—a hobbit.
"Who here does not remember the quest of the Ringbearer, Frodo Baggins, son of Drogo, and his faithful servant, Samwise Gamgee? To Mount Doom they journeyed, believing never to return to their land of the Shire. Frodo has passed on to the Undying Lands, to Valinor, so that he might live in peace until the end of his days, but he will never, in all of the stories and lore and legend of the Reunited Kingdom, be forgotten. Frodo was hailed as a hero and a mighty Ringbearer, but here on this statue you may notice an almost childlike face. This is to capture the innocence of that dear hobbit as once I knew him, before his toil as a bearer of the Ring of Power. This statue will honor the memory of the trials that the quest signifies for all hobbits. It is for their memory, and in tribute to those who still serve here and in Rohan. People of Gondor, let us remember them. These are our brethren.
"The final statue presented here today is very near to me. At Helm's Deep, their presence was unexpected, yet we would not have been victorious without their sacrifice. Many of you here in Gondor will not know the story, but in the Deep we could have been destroyed and hope would have fallen away. Many fought and gave their lives bravely, but without the leadership of one elf, the battle would have been lost. Without his guidance and authority, the elves that came to our aid in the Deep would not have arrived, and our last stand would have been the final stand of Rohan. This immortal of the Golden Wood…was Haldir of Lothlórien."
As the cover on the statue was drawn back, Enguina found herself staring into the very eyes of her brother. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked upon him. Much as he had looked to her in the days before the War, he stood tall and proud in his warrior's armor, his bow long and ornate in his left hand, his long sword from Lothlórien in his right. As she looked on him for the first time since his leaving, her eyes filled with tears. In spite of the shock, she felt a familiar warm hand on her back. She knew it was Legolas; she could not look at him.
"Haldir was a man of virtue and presence, and he honored the allegiance between men and elves. He came to our aid before we had given up hope, and he fought bravely until he was slain by two Uruk-hai warriors. He was strong in life, and his features will stand for all of Middle-Earth to see, both here and in Helm's Deep, where a statue in the likeness of this one shall be placed over his grave. The statue in the Deep will honor the elves that fought and passed there, while the one that shall rest in Gondor will ever face westward toward the Undying Lands, symbolizing our alliance with our Elven kindred. People of Gondor, let us remember them. These…" he swallowed hard, "are our brethren.
"There is one among us today who has been staying in our fair City for over a week now. Many of you have met her as she has traveled about Minas Tirith. She is Enguina of Lothlórien, sister of Haldir; I would call her forward if she would consent to come."
Enguina stood, astounded at being singled out in any way at such a formal event. She could not imagine actually going up there and standing across from him, and there was no way she could even remotely get her feet to move. She was so stunned that she could do nothing but stare at the King standing before her. He had honored her brother; what could he want her for?
She felt Legolas touch her elbow and it jarred her. "Guin…" he whispered.
"What do I do?" she hoarsely whispered, finding her voice.
"Go," he whispered back, pushing her gently with his fingers applying pressure to her arm. She felt her feet moving…and surprised herself by making it to the stage without stumbling to her knees in front of a few thousand Gondorians. But there was no way she could look at them; at the moment, she had eyes only for the man before. As she looked upon the King Elessar, she knew he was more than any man, and her heart was moved by such a show of empathy and caring for Middle Earth…and her brother. She knew then, no matter what more he could say or do, that she would forever be in reverence of the King of Gondor who had spoken to her heart. His grey eyes were kind.
"There are two things, Enguina, sister of Haldir, that I wish to give to you in this time we have set aside." He turned and Hildanir drew forth a small, but sturdy sapling of a mallorn tree. Taking it from him and holding it gently, he spoke again. "For those here who know not of the trees of Lothlórien…this is a mallorn, a tree whose leaves are green in the summer and do not fall in the autumn, but turn to gold. On my return journey from the Shire several years ago, I found it growing on the outskirts of the Golden Wood and I sought to plant it here in Gondor when it had grown sturdy and strong. I would now lay this honor on you, if you would accept it; to plant this tree in memory of your brother here in the garden of the White Tree so that it may grow strong and healthy forever; those in Gondor will be reminded of what our Elven kindred have done for us, and how they still serve."
Enguina bowed her head, finding her voice as if by some miracle. "Thank you, my Lord," she whispered, accepting the small mallorn, and gazing in wonder at its noble stature no matter how short.
"One last gift I would like to give to you, maiden of Lothlórien!" After reaching into the wooden chest, Hildanir came over to the King and bowed upon one knee, extending a sheath out to him. Elessar took it reverently, and Hildanir stood and took his place once more with the guard as the King turned back to Enguina. "The night Haldir fell on the stairs of the Deep, he held a long sword of elvish make that he carried with him into war. When I knew him, he and I had spoken of it only once and he had told me its story. In memory of him, I took this sword, and Brego, the faithful horse who bore me, carried it through all the War. When I arrived here and was made King, it remained in a position of honor within my House, though it was never drawn since that night. Once, shall I draw it."
With a metallic song, the sword slid from the sheath that Haldir had worn and the King Elessar lifted it high. "Behold! Eldarnar—Fire of the Elves!" Gently he looked down at her and smiled. "To thee, Enguina, I entrust this sword. The courage and might of your brother still shine within its blade; know that his sacrifice will never be forgotten as long as I shall live, and it shall be written in all of the books ever drafted what your people have done for the world of men. Know that your brother was loved, and is still, and that he remains in the heart of the King for all time."
Gently, he slid the sword into its sheath and placed it into her hands. She stared at it, unbelieving. She never had imagined it had survived everything that had happened; she never thought she would be holding it again. "In your hand take this sword and never forget what hope your brother has brought to those who had none. Bless thee, Enguina, sister of Haldir!" he said softly, touching her cheek, and in the manner of the old days, the King leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. "Plant thy mallorn in peace," he whispered, and when she raised her head, adoration was in her gaze and tears were on her face. As she turned toward the garden and fountain where the White Tree stood, the throng of people parted for her with honor, and she was grateful. It was the first time that she walked through a group of people alone since her arrival in Minas Tirith, and some even touched her in blessing as she passed, but all were silent. The King's voice echoed behind her throughout the courtyard.
"People of Gondor, remember those who fought and died for the freedom of Middle-Earth. Remember our own; remember our alliances with elves and men and dwarves. These alliances shall the Reunited Kingdom honor until the end of days, and may they forever stand as long as the honor of men may remain. Go in peace and dwell not on sorrow, but the hope that these brethren have left in our hearts. May you be blessed today by their sacrifice."
And so the ceremony to honor those who had passed on and those who remained behind ended with the words of the great King Elessar Telcontar. Many had been touched by his words, and many more would remember them and tell these stories to their children for many years to come. Stories of his great kindness and compassion would enter into the hearts of mortals until no more stories or legends could be written or told.
Enguina slowly moved through the garden, her mind lost in memory and thought of her brother and the terror that the Great War had brought among her family. She thought of Erumar, whom she had known for years, who had been so distraught by Haldir's death that she had locked herself away from the world and cried for days. Her grief was so great that even her children could not reach her. She thought of her own grief, compounded by the loss of her brother, and her realization that there was nothing else in Middle Earth that mattered to her more than peace of heart. There were so many families whose lives had been devastated by the War and the anger of Sauron and whose lives were also touched today for the soothing and honoring words of King Elessar…Aragorn…Arwen's husband.
There were so many things that he had said that had touched her heart, and each moment she knew that her heart was growing more involved with this City and its people. She remembered Legolas' comforting hand at her back, the way he had urged her forward, and the gentle touch of the people blessing her as she moved past them. And she would never forget what the King had said about her brother…not ever. For one man to have such love for another was powerful…and there was something about the love of this man that made it even more so. She understood so completely what had reached Arwen's heart; why she loved this man beyond an immortal life. She could see it now, when before she could not. Her brother had known the touch of one that loved him before he had passed, and that was at least some comfort.
This brought her thoughts back to Legolas. She was thinking of that comforting hand again; he must have seen the tears on her face. He was always very conscious of her, just as Arwen had said. They had spent the morning together, laughing, eating muffins, walking in the garden, and then he had reminded her about the ceremony. Legolas had appeared just as surprised as her when Aragorn had called her forward, so she knew that he had not known. But Arwen had also been right about Legolas being serious in his pursuit, just as he had told her; he was courting her in all but name.
She tightened her hand on the hilt of Eldarnar, feeling it was too big for her grip. Another tear slipped from her eyes and she closed them, picturing it the last time she had seen it on Haldir's belt. Haldir had always said to her that her hands were too delicate to wield a sword and so she would be better suited with bow and arrow. Eventually, after quite a few years of practice, she discovered that he was right—even though she hated to admit that to an older brother. Now, she wished she had. It was not as if she regretted time wasted, for she had certainly used the time with her brother well. They had enjoyed each other's company for hundreds of years and she would never forget those years. She only wished that he were around to see her continue her life…she wished she could have spoken to him of Bragolaur at some point, but she had never had the courage. He knew of what had happened of course, but Haldir was not always the easiest man to talk to, brother or not, and she had struggled with the sadness of what had happened to her for years. She did not know if there was a future here, if there could be, but Haldir would have approved of Legolas, surely…they had known one another.
And yet, it struck her as she walked, that as Eru closed one door in her life, he would soon open another, for just as she had grown tired and weary of the world without her brother and of her situation, she had found joy and renewal again in the…attentions of Legolas. She had surely thought her life in Middle-Earth was passed, and here, to her complete surprise, it had the opportunity to begin again.
She came upon the perfect place to plant the small but beautiful mallorn sapling and she knew it would grow tall, strong, and handsome as she had often told her brother he had. Leaning against the stone wall nearby, as if by some miracle, was a small shovel. After resting the sword and the sapling on the ground, she took it up. She dug slowly, reverently, knowing that here was the place her brother's tree would stand forever. When she knew it was deep enough, she there planted the tree in the fertile soil. Gently, she folded the sapling in the rich earth, kneeling next to it with Eldarnar across her lap. Yes, it was winter, but everything in Minas Tirith seemed to last on its own accord, and she was sure that it would do well here.
She looked at its golden leaves and its sturdy stature and she could almost see her brother's face in her mind. She thought of his strong features, his golden hair, and his bright blue eyes. Softly, she began to sing in her people's tongue:
Namárië, toron nîn,
lissi moica fëa;
si utuvalye este.
Hyeran vantalye si
miya ú-naicë nwalyalye;
mussë hyeran nalye varna.
Ilúvatar tuvua so;
ce fëarya senda.
Nyare so ya melan so.
Haldir! A! Haldir!
Lye senda meruvan
var lye quildë quettar quenar.
Lye senda oi
ante tuo nin;
man si antuva nin senda?
Lye huorë guina or,
lye cal a lye tuo;
lye mahta cole estel linana.
Iste sanwë nin na lye lyenev,
a táruvan lye.
Namárië, melmë nîn mentan lye!
[Farewell, my brother, a sweet gentle soul; may you now find rest. I pray you now walk where no hurt can torment thee; softly, I pray you are safe. Eru take him, make his soul at peace; tell him that I love him. Haldir! O! Haldir! Thy comfort will I miss and thy quiet words spoken. Thy comfort always gave me strength; who now will give me peace? May thy courage live on, thy light and thy strength; thy fight brought hope to many. Know my thoughts are near thee, and I will honor thee. Farewell! my love I send thee!]
"Namárië, toron nîn, I mela lye. Renuvan tuolya a melmëlya ninan. Ne seere, toron nîn, ne seere, [Farewell, my brother; I love thee. I will remember your strength and your love for me. Be at peace, my brother, be at peace,]" she spoke softly.
She rose and drew Eldarnar, studying the Elvish blade, hefting it in her hand. No, it simply was not right for her. "You were right, dear brother," she said softly. "This sword is not for me; a sword is not for me to bear, but it shall have a place of honor in my home and in my heart forevermore." She hesitated, still studying the sword. "Brother, would it be terribly wrong of me…if I were to find someone I thought worthy…if I were to give your sword to them? Then, it would see defense as it once did in your mighty hand. Perhaps, if it was someone very worthy…" She sighed.
"I will miss you," she said softly as she sheathed the sword, wiping the tears from her face. "I do miss you terribly. I will never forget you, Haldir; I loved you."
Slowly, she turned from the tree, letting her brother finally sleep in peace.
"Do you think she is all right, Gimli?" Legolas asked, looking down on the gardens from his position on the wall. He leaned on his elbows, watching Enguina carefully planting the tree, knowing that she was grieving for her lost brother.
"I can't see her without Elven eyes or Elven height, you pointy-ear," the dwarf laughed in response, "but yes, I suppose the lass will be fine. Whenever you lose someone, it's hard, and she will be in that place for a while. But…she seems a young woman of good temper; I don't know how strong she is, but she'll pull through all right." He looked up at Legolas and whispered, "Ye've made a fine choice, my lad." He thought about the amusement they had together in the City yesterday, and then nodded again. "Yes, you made a good choice."
"Do you believe I should have stayed near her…to comfort her?" Legolas asked, looking urgently to the dwarf for some reassurance that he had made the right choice.
"No, no, give her some space, some time alone with her brother. He was a fine warrior if I do say so myself, after I got to know him. Alas, it was a sad day indeed when his passing came in the wee hours of that morn."
"Of course, Gimli…you are right. She does need time to grieve—I should not horde her with comfort. If she needs it, she could come to me…yes?"
"Well…" began Gimli, "not necessarily, lad." Legolas seemed confused and looked down at Gimli.
"Then…should I go to her? If I see it in her face that she needs comfort, should I—"
"Well…" he started again, "not necessarily—"
"What? You confuse me, Gimli!" he said in reply, exasperated and as he threw his hands into the air, he began to pace. "First, you tell me not to go to her; when I suggest I should wait, you tell me otherwise. When I asked the third time, again you give me different counsel!" He pointed his finger into the dwarf's face. "If this is a game you play on me, lousy dwarf, I am not amused!"
The young elf's frustrated face made Gimli laugh and then he shook his head. "I don't play games with you, you pointed-eared Elvish princeling!" he laughed. "Women are hard books to read, and you have finally understood what it is to be bound to one!"
Legolas eyed him seriously. "Gimli…we are not bound in any way to each other."
"Well, then soon to be," the dwarf snorted loudly. "I've seen the way you look at each other. From an outsider's perspective you can clearly tell. You've confessed your love for her, right?"
"Well…no," Legolas admitted, "I felt it might be a bit more information than she is ready for. I…would not know what to say to her. She seems...a bit shy about such declarations. I am unsure she is ready."
"I thought you knew!" Gimli grumbled. "I thought you knew she was the one!"
"She is," Legolas said, his voice now soft. "I know that, Gimli; I did not say I was not ready. I do not need to think about it. Every moment I am with her, my feelings toward her become more powerful. My feelings are not in question…hers are."
"And to think that I was all set to be best dwarf at the wedding."
"Gimli," chided Legolas, rolling his eyes, "I am not quite at that point if I have not even confessed my love yet! And what is this talk of 'best dwarf?' You will be the only dwarf."
Gimli chortled with laughter. "I could set the stage," he said, raising his eyebrows up and then down. "Perhaps I could help you out a bit—"
"No," Legolas stressed, shaking his head. "I appreciate the kindness, but please, I am trying to be as careful as possible…subtle even. Your interference would almost certainly overstep my bounds." He did smile though. "I am very much, however, hoping she will consent to dance with me this evening. When Aragorn first told of a celebration, I could not help but think there might be dancing. Now that I have seen the floor for it with my own eyes, I am delighted that I will have the opportunity."
"Perhaps she'll consent to dance with me as well!" Gimli chortled, and Legolas rolled his eyes. "Don't laugh! Some women might find me more attractive. Here, a wager," Gimli said slyly, "if Enguina dances with me at all, you must promise to declare your love for her within the next week."
"That is a terrible wager!" Legolas declared. "If I know anything about Guin, she will dance with you simply to have a good laugh! No, if she dances with you first—"
"No, it won't do!" Gimli laughed. "If she dances with me at all; we are not such good friends as you think! How about she dances once with me at some point during the evening, and yet she stands up with no one else but you for the others. How is that for a wager? If that happens, you must declare your love for her within the week."
"And if I do not?"
"You owe me lunch and your hard labor every day for a month. Agreed?"
Legolas looked at him hard, but thought honestly with himself. If Enguina danced every dance with him tonight, he was without a doubt going to be proclaiming his love for her within a few days. How was he going to prevent himself? "Deal, lousy dwarf."
"Excellent! Let's wait and see how the evening goes then!" he laughed. "And may the best dwarf win!"
Enguina slowly began her walk out of the quiet garden. She knew Aragorn's presentation of the statues was over and the people would begin to prepare for the celebration that was going to take place that night in the square on the fifth circle of the city. There would be food and drinking, and singing and dancing. If she were very lucky, perhaps Legolas might ask to dance with her; though, the likelihood of him not asking was very slim. Legolas's attentions had been focused on her since she had arrived. She knew he was bound to ask…and she was almost certain to say yes. In so many ways, this was unlike her; she had not felt like dancing or singing for a great many years.
She heard footsteps not far off behind her, and they startled her out of thinking about Legolas. A flash of panic lit through her; she was alone, and if the steps were following her, she might be in danger. She quickened her pace, but they suddenly stopped. Her eyes widened in fear of something else, was someone disturbing the place where she had just been planting the sapling?
Turning, she hurried back along the path and came to a stop before the corner's end. She peered around and found Aragorn standing there with his head bowed. He wore now, no glorious armor and crown, but a simple navy tunic. Obviously, he had come looking for the tree, or for her, and had found it. Here, he looked crestfallen and his eyes showed the pain that he had felt for so long over the death of his friend.
He stood with head bowed for quite some time, and just as she was about to go to him, he lowered himself to one knee. She watched him for a moment more, still debating with herself whether go to him or let him be. She chose the latter, and she turned to leave again. Softly, behind her, she heard his song begin, and her feet were stilled in their place.
Namárië! Namárië; toron nîn, mellon nîn
Kyeran go orë nîn ya aqua nelye.
Vane lúmemas ve I edainlaor;
tyele lúme akkarato, toron nîn, mellon nîn.
Nelye huorë i rambanna ya lóme.
Lante liccotumor lúvatya ar macil-taura!
Tuotya ar cánë ne pella vë;
toron nîn, mellon nîn, meran nelye har.
Nyaren le ya caurë elye nayes orëesse nîn,
na i melmë lean i altaména.
Tana nin moica nilmëtya ana utuva
i tuo ya sire hyorëesse ninello.
Astaldo, nur, hyn nati cala alcarinqua,
macar ar timo hyn ne yando le.
Ú-vantalye imbë i lohta-aldar,
ú-varya macilmas yassen ilye urqui usa.
Laituva fintya lá vile. Nutuva quarëtya lá lúva.
Lantuva omatya lá lhaw. Ú-cenuva lalaithtya.
Cole Cassar Balë, caituvalye si;
er linuva apairëtya orëesse nîn ilye rér nîn.
Harye ilya sana nuin aldar Lórienesse
pela terë ore nîn ve nyeran nyérënna nîn.
An ú-lantuvalye i lantarambanna,
túlelye ana ú-na nin ar ú-hlarelye orë-yello nîn.
Nyera orë nîn, ar na i búlënyérë,
an toron nîn, mellon nîn, losta dín.
Toron nîn, mellon nîn, hlara hyermë nîn si:
haryuvalye envinyata ar nuva tuo en.
Envantuva i firn ar telduva sanwë;
ú-caita morniëesse, harya sérë an aute lóme!
Namárië! Namárië, Ilúvataro anna fëa.
Toron Eldarinwa, toron nîn, mellon Haldir—în nîn!
[Farewell, farewell, my brother, my friend. I pray with my heart that thou were content. Time passed by as the years of men; too soon (did) time end, my brother, my friend. Brave thou stood upon the wall that night. Many foes fell by thy bow and sword-might! Thy strength and valor were beyond compare; my brother, my friend, I wish thou were near. I would tell thee that fear though it be in my heart, the love for thee is the greatest part. Thy gentle friendship led me to find the strength that flowed in this heart of mine. Valiance, devotion, these traits shine brightly, swordsman and guard these also were thee. You shall not walk among the flowering trees, nor protect by sword which all orc flee. Thy hair no breeze will bless. Thy hand no bow shall string. Thy voice shall grace no ear. Thy smile shall not be seen. Helm's Deep has claimed, thee here now shall lay; but thy victr'y shall sing in my heart all my days. Each moment we spent under trees in Lórien runs through my mind as I grieve on my sin. For thou would not have fallen on the fallen wall, if thou came to help me not and thou heard not my heart-call. My heart does grieve, and the grief is deep, for my brother, my friend, silently sleeps. My brother, my friend, hear now my prayer: thou shall have healing and strength will be there. The dead shall walk again and memory shall last; do not lie in darkness, have peace for night is past! Farewell! Farewell, Eru's gift in a soul. Elven brother, my brother, friend Haldir—my own!]
Enguina's heart broke with the anguish that was held within that strong tenor voice. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she felt her feet carrying her back to the place where the King knelt. When he heard her steps on the grass he stood. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulders, but he did not turn to her. She could see the tears on his face as he had wept for her fallen brother. For him to sing such words the bond between them must have been very close…more close than she had ever realized.
"Your heart speaks to mine, King of Gondor, and your grief as well. For it may be that your grief is more terrible than mine, for your heart is burdened with the pain of guilt while mine lies in the light of good times with my brother. Do not grieve, Aragorn…Haldir would not want you to feel so much pain at the loss of his life. He did not fall because of you…or because your love for him failed. Perhaps it was his time, to give his life so that others might live more fully.
"Haldir's spirit lives within you, as it does in me. Just as you spoke those words today, Aragorn, I know that they blessed my heart. Your hand, your voice, your gifts have brought healing to my heart…can my words do naught for you?"
There was silence for a few moments, and then he rose to his feet, turning about to face her. "No, my Lady…do not grieve yourself for me. My heart is burdened with much that may or may not have been fault of my own, but more things must a person such as I bear on my conscience." His eyes met hers and they were sad. "I would not have him think less of me for grieving for his loss, but sometimes, late into the watches of the night, I see his parting over and over again…" His breath caught in his throat and he swallowed, closing his eyes, "as is my way with those I have loved and lost. I see him on the wall looking down at me, answering my call, and in the next moment his eyes are filled with pain. I called his name, and in that moment I knew that he would never answer again.
"When I finally arrived at his side, I only caught him when he fell…and I was too late. Already, when I laid him back in my arms, he had passed. I could do naught but lay a hand on his heart in peace, praying that Eru would kindly receive him and that he would suffer no more. I had no choice but to fight on."
"But that is the way my brother would have wished it, Aragorn. Do not trouble yourself for Haldir, for he was happy in the last years of his life and peaceful in death. When he went from Lothlórien those many years ago, he was content. He knew what he was doing, Aragorn. His sacrifice was well made. He loved you—"
Aragorn smiled ruefully. "Yet…that seems to be the heart of the matter, Enguina. It is some sort of curse for a person to love me! Each one either comes to great pain or passes before their time—"
"All must meet their end in some way, Aragorn," she said softly, meeting his eyes. "If Haldir was going to die, he would sooner have given his life for a cause or someone he cared for. The bond between you both was much greater than ever I knew…and who are you to know each one's time? You must not take all this grief upon yourself!" she said seriously. "These people you speak of…they choose you because they love you!"
"Such things have been said to me before, under different circumstances and in time of war, Enguina. I have seen them all my life," he said sadly. "So many have fallen, and they have all died for me." His eyes reflected the sorrow that ripped through his heart. "Never have I felt worthy of their sacrifice, though I am told so often."
"Not worthy?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "Not worthy? You, the man whose fierce heart led him into battle against some of the most dangerous men and beasts all of his life; the man who would lay down his life for a comrade, who would brave any sort of danger to protect the woman he loved, who would reach out his hand of healing to a stranger if it meant hope to them…and you think yourself unworthy!" She gave a hoarse laugh as sudden tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, dear Ilúvatar, what deeds, in heaven's name, need a man do to prove his worth!" She turned from him, shaking her head. "How…how after all you have done, can you still find yourself unworthy of the sacrifice of those who laid their lives at your feet?" She crossed her arms and faced him again.
"Each person loves you in their own way, Aragorn! Each one meets you and loves you, for both your character and the greatness that is within you. Éowyn told me she wished to ride with you to the Paths of the Dead for she did not want you to meet your end alone, and she feared for your safety. She loved the very idea of you…though she loved you as well! Her brother, she told me, loved you since he met you on the fields of Rohan when you came out of the very shadows of the stones! Legolas loved you since you were but a child and Arwen…how does one even speak of the love she holds for you? There are many who would die to preserve the life they love best, and you are that life, Aragorn! Do not wish that things were different, for it is your heart," she said placing her hand on his chest, "that makes you this man that anyone would die to protect!
Her eyes were serious. "I barely knew you a week ago, Aragorn," she said softly, "and if I had not met you and I had only continued to hear the rumors of your deeds, your love for Middle-Earth, your love for my friend, my brother, your friends who love you…I would have to have believed them and loved you well only on hearsay. But now," she shook her head, "after hearing your words and learning of you and coming to see your kindness, I know why these people defend you until their last breath. Given an opportunity…I would, too.
"No longer grieve for the passing of my brother, Aragorn. He would have thought you a worthy friend and a wonderful King," her voice grew soft. "And he would bless you a thousand times for the care you have shown his sister and the Evenstar." She could see how moved he was by the words she had spoken.
He looked at her gently, and bowed his head. "If his sister requires anything else that is within my power, it will be hers. Thank you for your words."
"Sometimes," she replied, "we need to be reminded of how special we truly are. But again, I say do not let your heart be grieved any longer. Let today rest, and let the night be full of this celebration you have planned before us."
"As you wish, Lady," he agreed, and she smiled at him. The two of them left the garden of the White Tree together.