Notes, Warnings etc
My Elves were demanding attention again sighs
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Aftermath
The next few days were quickly eaten up with celebration and travelling. On the Fields of Cormallen, the men continued to celebrate their victory though each one of them was planning the day that they arrived back in Minas Tirith when they could celebrate with wine and choice cuts rather than water, battle rations and whatever the hunters could find. Frodo and Sam were honoured the night following their awakening, a fact that upset both Hobbits.
"I did nothing but what I was asked," protested Frodo as yet another person bowed to him.
"Not everyone would have made the trip in Orodruin and lived to tell of his adventures," replied Dídauar as she handed both him and Sam a bowl of broth, neither of their stomachs quite ready to attempt the 'soldier's stew'.
"You saved our world Frodo, the praise and homage being shown to you are but shadows compared to what you deserve."
"But, begging your pardon Mistress Dídauar, we're just Hobbits. And the only ones stupid enough to step forward at that Counsel," put in Sam, going more than a little red.
"The only ones brave enough," stressed Dídauar. "And it's either Dídauar or Shadow. I am mistress to no one."
"But your Strider's sister and Gandalf said he's the King!" said Sam, looking to Frodo to confirm what he was saying.
"That does not make me mistress," said Dídauar. "I am a warrior Sam, and have very little time for courts and politics. If you must give me a title, call me Captain. And I'm sure even that title will cause some consternation among the council members."
"When have you not caused problems for those in authority?" grinned Aragorn as he deposited himself beside the trio. The two Hobbits looked scandalised at his comment while Dídauar swiped playfully at her brother's thigh. Sam was the first to jump to her defence.
"You shouldn't go saying such things about your sister. 'Specially when she is a Princess," he said. Dídauar chuckled lightly.
"Sam, it's alright. Estel is just being his usual tormenting self. So, what do we owe the honour of a visit from the King?" she said.
"Don't you start," warned Aragorn. "And since when have I needed a reason to sit beside you at the fireside?"
"You don't, but think of something before anymore of your nobles try to monopolise your time," smiled Dídauar, reaching over and kissing Aragorn's cheek.
"You sound jealous," grinned Aragorn, pulling Dídauar to sit in front of him and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Dídauar smiled gently and twisted herself around so that she was sitting between her brother's calves and Aragorn slid to the ground and wrapped his arms about Dídauar's torso, the younger twin tipping her head back so that it lay on his shoulder.
"No, I am relieved I am not the centre of attention any more," replied Dídauar. Aragorn chuckled.
"Carnir is going to be a problem," he confessed. "He is already telling me of how things are done in Gondor. Should I tell him I'm Thorongil?"
"Do you want more fame or derision?" asked Dídauar.
"It would get them off my back!"
"No, it either would make them more eager to hang around, especially the younger men, or it would led to half your council wondering if you are going to flee without a moments notice. At least this way, you get out of telling the stories and are given a fresh start," replied Dídauar.
"Or I could tell them you are Faerlain," grinned Aragorn. "As much as you protest, you enjoy holding audiences captive with song and tale as much as Merry and Pippin."
"I learnt from the best," replied Dídauar with a returning grin.
"I thought you hated being forced to listen to the minstrels," said Aragorn. Dídauar continued to grin.
"I meant the Shirelings," she said. Sam looked bemused at the comment, while Frodo smiled lightly. In the months leading up to his departure from The Shire, Dídauar had been one of the 'big people' that he had been seen speaking to, though most of the time had been either Halbarad or Herion, and on more than one occasion she had mentioned the entertainment aspect of the Hobbits' nightlife, particularly the tales that sounded beyond the walls of the Green Dragon. Aragorn laughed.
"It is little wonder you have developed such a rapport with Pippin if that's the case," he said, the aforementioned Hobbit being up on his feet and singing something at the fire across the common area between the tents. Dídauar grin lessened into a gentle smile of remembrance.
"I see Boromir in him," said Dídauar. "The bravery, the curiosity, the cunning and that blasted imp that decides to appear at the most inappropriate times."
"And you love him for it," murmured Aragorn, tightening his embrace and kissing the top of her head again. Dídauar nodded, biting her lip to suppress the emotion that was threatening to bubble over.
"'tis good to see that something remains never change," said Sam, sounding far to wise for a Hobbit of his age.
"Sam?" Sam smiled and pointed over to the fire Merry and Pippin had been dancing around only to find Legolas and Gimli on their feet and responsible for entertaining the masses. It appeared that they had been recounting some part of their adventures together but their friendly rivalry and individual differences had seen proceedings descend so that the pair were once again having a trivial argument.
It began as a gently rumble in Frodo's chest but it quickly graduated to light laughter which then mutated to the two Hobbits and the twins sitting laughing at the antics of their friends. For the moment, life appeared to be following the proper path.
Lothlórien
It took the twins five days to reach the borders of Lothlórien. They had ridden their horses to the point of exhaustion across Rohan, grateful for the naturally increased stamina of their Elven steeds. Celeblas, the sentry that encountered them at the borders did not question the fact that they had returned before they were scheduled but let them pass and travel unaccompanied and unannounced on to Caras Galadhon. The haunted look in Elrohir's eyes was enough to let the border guard realise that this was not a visit to calm their hearts for a little while. Celeblas could only reach one conclusion. They knew of Haldir's failing and had come to say goodbye.
It took the twins less than an hour to reach the City and were met by Celeborn who looked nearly as haunted as Elrohir. Elladan prayed fervently that they could help Haldir because he simply wouldn't be able to cope with the fallout of the March-Warden's death.
"He is in his talen," said Celeborn. "Rúmil is with him."
"How is he?" asked Elrohir.
"Haldir or Rúmil?"
"Both."
"Haldir is balanced on a knife edge ready to be fall in either direction. Rúmil has yet to allow his own pain to surface. I fear that, unless a miracle occurs, this War will claim the lives of all three brothers not just Orophin," replied Celeborn, his voice, normally controlled and impassive when delivering such devastating news, cracking as he spoke the final words. Elladan noticed and pushed Elrohir in the direction of Haldir's talen.
"Go. I will stay with Grandfather while you talk to Haldir and Rúmil," he instructed. Elrohir looked at him wide eyed. Elladan wasn't coming with him?
"I will find you later. For now, it is a link to Kalya that Haldir needs. I cannot give him that," said Elladan.
"But……"
"Elrohir, she is tied to you not me. For what rhyme or reason of the Valar I dare not guess, but you know more acutely how Kalya fares. That is what Haldir needs, not some report that she was alive five days ago," argued Elladan. "I will find you later, but for now my place is here."
"Alright," murmured Elrohir before bowing sharply to Celeborn and all but sprinting to Haldir's talen.
"Rúmil?" said Elrohir gently, touching the dozing Elf's shoulder as he arrived. Rúmil jerked violently and spun round to face Elrohir, quickly moving to salute the younger of his Lady's grandsons, only to find Elrohir holding his hands to prevent the action.
"No," whispered Elrohir. "Now is not the time to show me such respect."
"Why are you here?" asked Rúmil fearfully. "Please. Don't tell me……Elrohir, it will kill him!"
"And you will follow," said Elrohir. "But I do not come bearing such ill tidings." Rúmil canted his head looking like a curious kitten but at the same time his eyes shone like those of a rabbit caught in the hunter's lamp.
"First of all, the war is over. The Halfling succeeded in his quest and Sauron is destroyed. Second, I held Kalya in my arms but five days ago just before I left to ride here. This letter was penned by her but hours before my departure. And her soul continues to sing in harmony with mine," explained Elrohir, reaching into his jerkin and retrieving a thick square of parchment.
"She knows?" asked Rúmil. "But why is she not here herself if she has such knowledge?"
"Her own people need her," began Elrohir only to be cut off by a furious Rúmil.
"Haldir needs her more!" he snapped, his voice rising higher than it had in weeks. "It is Haldir that is laying inches from death, because of her, but instead she chooses to stay with the ones whom she has spent most of her life running and hiding from?!"
"Halbarad is dead!" retorted Elrohir, grabbing Rúmil's collar and dragging him outside. "Arahael was badly wounded at Pelennor and Nemír was taken down during the last Battle. They are only now beginning to regain their strength. Eight others that followed her to Rohan and Gondor died in battles that should not have been theirs to fight! Tarcil and Culas do not have the strength to worry about their people, themselves and their fallen kin without some form of help. Estel may be their Chief but Kalya is the one they look to for unconditional support. That is why Kalya is still alive!"
"What?"
"Her kin are the only reason Kalya does not yet reside in the Eternal Halls!" ranted Elrohir. "She tried to give up. After Pelennor, she collapsed with exhaustion and wounded herself further. Poisoned by Orc venom and the malice of the voices in the darkness, Kalya tried to give up her soul, unable to see a reason to live. Three of her 'children' were dead, as were friends and protectors of old, another three were reaching out to knock at the door to the Eternal Halls, Orophin had been slain to protect ones that didn't know his name and even Haldir's star was beginning to fade from the skies. She had been forced to watch helplessly as her world was shattered around her and it took nearly all of Estel's strength to keep her here. Even I failed to achieve a reaction from her near the end. Only through the will of the Valar was she pushed firmly back to our world."
"That does not explain why you are here and she is not," said Rúmil, crossing his arms defiantly.
"Because I am the one who can be spared!" snapped back Elrohir. "Haldir needs a link with his charge that is not surrounded by fear and darkness and other than Kalya herself, I am the best option. Unless you think Haldir will survive the journey to Gondor?"
"Does he look like he could survive it?" demanded Rúmil, pointing back to his prone brother who was murmuring again, a deep frown creasing his forehead. Elrohir's healer instincts kicked in immediately upon witnessing Haldir jerk violently, legs kicking out and head twisting sharply away as though evading an enemy. The raven-haired Elf dropped to his knees beside Haldir's bed and grasped his hand tightly.
"Haldir hear me," begged the younger Elf, reaching up to smooth Haldir's forehead. Haldir murmured something incoherent though he was plainly distressed.
"Haldir!" barked Elrohir. "You will listen to me. You must fight the tide that is pulling you under. The war is over. Your people are safe once more. Kalya is alive and well but she wont be if you fail."
"Nothing left……" whispered Haldir with a laboured breath, obviously not having heard a word Elrohir had said.
"No!" exclaimed Elrohir. "No Haldir. Remember you told me a story just before Naneth had left? You told me that every tunnel had an entrance and an exit. Even the darkest ones had to end at some point and that we would find ourselves in the daylight once more. We've reached that light Haldir. Kalya is alive and is waiting for you in Gondor."
"She is calling……" murmured Haldir.
"Yes. She is calling you home," said Elrohir, pressing Haldir's hand to his heart and placing his own over that of the silver-Elf.
"Feel Haldir," he murmured, concentrating on Kalya. Normally the bond between the two was not tangible, only making itself known when one or other of the twins was in distress and unable to cope alone, but this time Elrohir could feel the connection and he focus narrowed so that he was only concentrating on his foster-sister and her Guardian. "Feel her Haldir. See her, hear her, return to her."
Minas Tirith
Dídauar had returned to her habit of pacing the battlements. The troops that had fought at the Black Gate had been welcomed back earlier that day as heroes, and rightly so, and Aragorn was immediately set up in the King's residence. Arahael had persuaded the warden of the Houses of Healing that he was fit enough to greet his kinsmen as they returned and Tarcil was overjoyed to see his brother back on his feet. The Dúnedain had been housed with their chief, but Dídauar was uncomfortable in the House and the nobility that went with it. The nomadic sprite that made up her soul made it impossible for her to settle in such definitive role. She was more than willing to accept the role as Aragorn's heir, she was after all his only other living relative and was already a leader with their people, but to be confined within the cold stone and marble of Minas Tirith was the same as a prison sentence.
"You do not have to stay," said Aragorn as he appeared beside her.
"You wish me gone?" asked Dídauar, not turning around.
"I wish you happy," replied Aragorn, moving to embrace her from behind. "You know the reason you are called Faerlain. Even as Dídauar, you are not meant for a city of stone."
"I am happy at your side," said Dídauar, turning around and completed the embrace. Aragorn smiled gently and brushed away the braid that had fallen across her face, noting that it was once more one of Arwen's designs.
"I told you before, I do not have to be sage or Elf to know that something is bothering you," said Aragorn. "You would be happy here for a week, a month, maybe even a season, but eventually the wild would call to you again. Do not tie yourself to Minas Tirith and to me in such a way."
"I could always run free in Ithilien," said Dídauar. "It would not be a toil to remain at your side."
"I cannot ask you to put me before your own happiness. You've put the needs of others before yourself for so long, is it not time for you to put your own needs first?"
"You're my brother! I cannot be happy if I see you suffering," said Dídauar. "But I will not make my choice yet. So many things have changed within the past few weeks, maybe my spirit will also be tempered."
"Promise me you will make it for yourself and not for me," said Aragorn. Dídauar nodded.
"I promise," she said. Aragorn smiled and kissed her forehead before encouraging her to rest her head on his shoulder.
"Follow your heart, little one. I will always hold a door open for you to return, and you will always be in my heart," he whispered.
