Repost of chapter twenty-six!
Iowen was sitting on the bed in the flet when Tirnel entered. "Where have you been?" Iowen asked, setting down her hairbrush.
"Visiting my brother and his companions." Tirnel set her weapons down on a table. "They want me to accompany them on their journey."
Iowen stood, going to Tirnel's side. "Where will their journey take them?"
"Tell no one, but they plan to destroy the One Ring in Mordor."
"Tirnel! You cannot seriously think about accompanying them; You would be killed!" Iowen shoved Tirnel onto the bed and sat behind her, undoing the younger elf's braids and brushing out the gold-brown hair.
"And if their quest was to fail, we would all die." Tirnel played with the chain at her throat.
Iowen remained silent and brushed more forcefully. Tears were in her eyes as she began to braid, fingers fumbling.
"You're stress-braiding."
"No, I'm not."
"You only braid like that when you're worried about something."
"I'm not. Go on, go on your adventure and get yourself killed. I'll just stay here, taking care of Helegon and Nemirdir, and we'll all sail when we get word of your death." Iowen's fingers snagged in Tirnel's hair.
The younger elf turned around and hugged her friend. Iowen let tears fall onto Tirnel's back. "Iowen, you know there's no other way. I must go."
"No, you mustn't," Iowen sniffed. "You can stay."
Tirnel sighed, sitting back and taking Iowen's hands. "I cannot stay here while I have the chance the make a difference. I cannot stay here while...while…" she sat up straighter and looked her friend in the eye. "While my family and friends fight a battle that they will lose. I will go with them."
A knock sounded at the door. Nemirdir entered, bringing with him the scent of pine and woodsmoke that Tirnel knew well. "Hello, love," he said, pulling Tirnel into his arms. He kissed her on the forehead and sat down in a chair. "Where have you been all day?"
Tirnel winced, thinking of how heartbroken Nemirdir would be. "I was with my brother and his friends. They want me to leave with them."
"Leave? Where to?" Nemirdir appeared confused and slightly worried.
She took a deep breath and muttered, "To Mordor."
"Mordor?" Nemirdir said, disbelief and fear crossing his face. "Are they insane? Are you going to go with them?"
"I am," she said, looking at her hands.
"Tirnel, you'll be killed!" He took her hands and squeezed them. "Love, you'll die. Die, and I'll have to sail to see you again. Neither of us wants that. If you die, you'll be alone." Nemirdir kissed her hands and sat next to her on the bed, arms wrapped around her.
"And if I do not go, the quest will be that much weaker. If they fail, we shall die shouldn't I sacrifice myself to make a difference?"
"But why must it be you? Haldir would be a better choice." He winced as Tirnel scowled at him.
"Legolas is my brother. And Haldir must remain here and prepare the Golden Wood for the armies that will surely come. I would be a perfect choice." Tirnel stood and began to pace. "I am going, Nem."
He sighed. "I know you told me to worry about myself, but I want you to stay where it is safe. I know that you will also disregard everything I say. But I will drug you if I have to! I will put sleeping herbs in your food on the day they leave, and I will tell them that you are not going with them."
Tirnel stood suddenly. "I am going, Nem!" she snapped. "There's nothing you can do, short of wounding me perilously, that will stop me!" She stormed out of the flet, snatching her knives from beside the door and brushing past Helegon on the stairs.
She was so distraught that she hadn't even noticed where she was going. Before she knew it, she was in the clearing that the Fellowship lived in. Nearly all of them were gone, but Aragorn bowed his head to her as she sat next to him. He appeared to be deep in thought, staring contemplatively at a root at his feet. "What seems to be the matter?" he asked, after a few minutes had gone by.
Tirnel sighed. "The elf I love, Nemirdir, wishes for me to remain where it is safe, where I cannot be harmed." She scowled at the ground. "I want to go with you. But I do not want to break his heart, to make him die of grief. I am torn."
The man sat back against the trunk of the tree, eyes on the canopy of leaves. The wind stirred through Tirnel's unbound hair and tears, unbidden, suddenly filled her eyes. She quickly wiped them away as Aragorn spoke quietly. "Are you sure you want to join us?"
More tears threatened to fall. "Yes," Tirnel managed to say, before pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, placing her face on her knees, and beginning to cry.
Aragorn put his arms around Tirnel, murmuring Sindarin to her. Legolas approached the edge of the clearing, but stopped as Aragorn flapped a hand at him. "You're alright," the Dúnadan muttered. "You'll be fine."
Tirnel sat back, trying to breathe deeply, and wiped her eyes. "I hope. Thank you for your time." She stood and left, passing Legolas with a nod. She managed to make it to training fields, which were mercifully empty. The dummy sat where it always was. It was leaking hay from a few gashes, but was still good for destroying. Realising that she had left Variele in her flet, Tirnel smiled grimly and walked to the weapons shed to borrow a sword. She returned and whirled around the dummy, slashing through its torso and sheathing her sword. She drew her knives and cut off the dummy's head. The frame snapped, forcing the dummy into a bow. Tirnel snarled at it and brought her knife's hilt down on its back, cracking it in two.
She stepped back, breathing heavily, and sat down on a rock. Conflicting feelings rampaged through Tirnel's mind. She dropped her face into her hands, trying to block out the yells from one side of her mind, telling her to stay and live her life in peace with Nemirdir and to forget the travellers. The other side raged at her, the word cowardice at the forefront of its rant. "Stop!" She stood up suddenly, the word coming out louder than she had meant it to.
"Made your decision to stay behind and cower?" The voice of Boromir slipped into her mind. She wheeled around to see the man polishing his horn and leaning against a tree.
Biting back the curses she longed to snarl, Tirnel bowed her head. "My lord Boroming. I have taken long in council with my emotions, but have not yet come to a decision. But, my lord, did you? Or were you sent? I have heard that men do such rash things in the East, sending their men away, even if they wish to remain and play soldier." She smirked internally, enjoying the shade of red that Boromir's face had turned.
The man ground his teeth for a moment, then, to Tirnel's shock, bowed his head to her in return. "The others await your return." He turned and left, seeming close to having steam pour out of his ears. Feeling slightly more cheered, Tirnel sheathed her knives and followed the man back to the clearing. The others were arrayed around it: Legolas and Aragorn were sitting on one side, deep in a whispered discussion, the hobbits were clumped on the other, and Gimli was polishing his axe in the center. Boromir sat on the edge, an arrogantly bored expression on his face.
Aragorn glanced up as Tirnel entered the clearing. "Mae govannen, Tirnel. Have you made a decision?"
Tirnel grimaced. "Not yet, mellon. When is the Fellowship leaving Lothlórien?"
The Dúnadan winced. "Hopefully, sometime in the next two weeks. Make your decision before then."
Tirnel nodded. Hay still stuck to her clothes from the dummy, so she picked it off for something to do with her fingers. Not really sure what to do with the rest of her and feeling that she should leave the others to themselves, Tirnel left the clearing, heading for the dining hall. A few elves dotted the walls, but Tirnel was alone at the Galadhrim's table. She ate a small dinner and, though it was only around five, went back to her flet.
Eeee. I don't like conflict very much. Anyhoo, I really hope that Nem&Tir work it out, because (warning to my more delicate readers) this story is going to get real dark, real fast. It's kind of like if you spilled a small bottle of India Ink on a white shirt. For now, though, we're just dripping a few splatters here and there. So keep your hats on, and keep your eyes ready to read. See you next time! (PS: If you got the Pushing Daisies reference, points for you!)