A/N: Hello my dear readers! Sorry for the slight delay, moving out and in took a toll on my social life... But I'm back, and this is the third-to-last chapter to this amazingly long story! :'(
Disclaimer: Any recognizable piece of dialogue or character is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his heirs and/or of Sir Peter Jackson. I only own my two main OCs Baraz and Filí, son of Kilí, and some secundary characters.
Playlist for this chapter: Elven nightfall from the Battle for Middle-Earth 2 OST; The Woodland Realm and Girion, Lord of Dale from the Desolation of Smaug OST.
35. The return
2 F.A.
5th January
Leaving Rivendell behind perhaps for the last time in her life was by far the hardest thing Baraz ever had to do. Battling an Orc? Easy. Finishing a Troll off? Piece of cake. Flying atop an Eagle? Ha! But leaving the city she had begun to think of as a safe haven? Hardest thing of all...
On the morning of the 25th day of September, Lord Elrond stood on the bridge above the Bruinen, waiting for his guests to come and wish him goodbye. He and his own company were to leave the Elven City, along with the seven Hobbits, to journey to the Grey Havens.
Baraz felt undeniably sad as she stared at the tiny figure of her uncle being gently hoisted in a cart. She knew what was going to happen. She knew that the Sixth Ring-Bearer was to be taken on a ship sailing towards Valinor, the Undying Lands.
But she also knew that the grave look on Frodo's face meant something else than just sadness upon leaving Imladris. She knew her childhood friend was still plagued by nightmares and memories of what the One had planted in his soul. She knew his troubles, saw them daily, and secretly, she knew that he, too, wished to leave Middle-Earth.
The first group Baraz moved to say goodbye to was Samwise, his wife Rosie, and their baby daughter Elanor. Rosie's belly, by then slightly swollen, was showing the life living underneath, and as they embraced, Baraz thanked the Hobbit lass for her hospitality and wished her and the baby to be born the best of lives.
Sam shed a tear upon embracing her, something she'd have thought impossible before and during the Quest. They had not known each other very well at that time, and even if Baraz had known Sam's father Hamfast much better, the younger Gamgee was a definitely more discreet person.
Merry and Pippin made a fuss of everything when it was their turn, promising visits from both parties and crying their fill until Baraz had to gently push them away. Lord Elrond seemed very amused when she reached him, but he did not voice his thoughts concerning the younger Halflings.
Baraz thanked the Elf-Lord for the umpteenth time in her short life, and they exchanged quiet words in the Elven tongue before Baraz reached the cart and its occupants.
Bilbo, as usual, did not really understand the weight of their separation, thinking they'd see each other soon to hear the newest song he was writing. It made Baraz' heart leap with some of the happiness that was left in that old Hobbit's soul.
"Poppy..." came the gentle whisper as Frodo's arms closed around her torso.
"Frodo..." she answered in kind, squeezing his frame as hard as she could, perhaps in the hope that some of her strength would pass over to him. "Be kind to yourself."
He moved away a bit, a sad smile on his lips and an instictive hand going to his wounded shoulder. "We have seen too many things, my old friend. It is time for us to rest."
She nodded gravely, a tear escaping her eye. "Yes. Let's try and forget all of that gruesome adventure. Start afresh." She wanted to hint at the fact that they could start afresh in Middle-Earth, in the Shire or somewhere else, but Frodo merely smiled, and took her hand.
"I will see you when you depart this land, Baraz Gazardu. Make us proud." He tugged on her hand until she bowed low enough for him to kiss her forehead, then he climbed in the cart with Bilbo, who started an agitated conversation as soon as his nephew touched wood.
Merry and Pippin took that cue to assault her again, and nigh on half-an-hour later, Baraz and Fíli were climbing the way to the Misty Mountains, just as a company of thirty went over the bridge and into the Wild beyond...
"How do you feel?" came the quiet question on their third night in the Mountains. It was winter, and wood was scarse, but they had managed to light a small fire in the cover of a small cave, void of any Goblins luckily enough.
Filí had not talked to his cousin a lot since they had departed Rivendell. Baraz suspected he was buried deep in thoughts of Ceassa and the possibility of their reunion, a happy one she hoped, but she also suspected that he wanted to leave her with her own worries.
For she had loads.
Since departing from their friends and family in Imladris, Baraz had been plagued with the weight of what was needed of her one more time. She kept thinking about her own reunion with Bard so long after leaving his side, and what she'd say upon seeing him again.
So when Filí asked her how she was feeling, she really did not have a clue.
"Cold?" she answered with a smirk.
He sighed, and remained silent for a few breaths. "It's going to be alright."
Baraz did not answer. If anything, she doubted things would be. Alright.
They descended the last slope of the Misty Mountains a few days before Christmas, and when they entered Mirkwood on the newly reopened East Road, the woods were being decorated with taste by the Elflings they crossed path with.
Baraz marvelled at the sight of the Old Wood being rejuvenated. It was a sight she never thought she'd see, and one she appreciated greatly.
Every evening for a fortnight, they had company, may it be one, two, or more Elves who delighted them with tales or asked for their own. The age-old hatred between Elves and Dwarves seemed to have vanished into thin air, and Filí looked ever more comfortable being with the Sylvan Kin.
Until one day, as they edged closer to Thranduil's Halls, Baraz heard her name being called from ahead.
"Aier!" Despite having heard the name several times when in Elrohir and Elladan's presence, Baraz felt the name course through her veins until she whirled around, feeling light-headed with the sheer joy that filled her.
"Legolas!" The Prince was hurrying her way, a couple of females behind him, both carrying garlands of ivy and flowers that they'd no doubt hang somewhere close by. He was smiling widely, looking much happier than she had ever seen him, and when he reached her, he actually drew her into a hug.
"Aier! Rwalaer! I am so glad to see you!" He moved away from Baraz and saluted Filí in the way of his people. "What an excellent surprise!"
Baraz was still stunned by the apparition, and she grinned too. "Yes, it was quite unexpected but a lovely surprise nonetheless. How fare you, old friend?"
"I could ask you the same question, my friend," he laughed, and the chime-like sound sent a pang of happiness through Baraz' veins. "Come now, we are preparing for Yule time. Tauriel will be delighted!"
Tauriel was indeed delighted and, surprisingly enough, King Thranduil allowed both Dwarflings to stay as long as they wished. He refused to speak Common Tongue to Filí, but Baraz was glad to use her elvish again, and then again, her cousin had learnt an awful lot in the two years he had been ambassador to Greenwood.
"Tell us, what's happened after we left your side?" Legolas asked the second evening, as they watched others dancing around a fire, fireflies dancing around them as well.
Baraz smiled sadly. "Alas, the Shire was plagued with Saruman's greed and wish for vengeance. Our Halfling friends and I had to fight him off, and it took some time and cunning. After which the country needed rebuilding."
"And you decided to remain there."
It wasn't a question, more of an affirmation, but she could see the surprise in Legolas' eyes, something that was legitimate since he knew of her intimate wish to be accepter by her people.
Baraz nodded. "For a while, yes. But I do not belong there anymore. I have seen too much, my soul is too tainted." Legolas nodded back, but did not add anything, for there was no need, really.
"Well, you can stay here as long as you wish, my friend."
Baraz and Filí spent Yule with the Elves. It was a great feast in other places too, but nothing compared to the Sylvan Elves' way of celebrating. Every tree was decorated, every animal was invited in a way, and there was a sense of magic in the air everytime a song was sung or a dance danced.
Then, nigh on the first day of the New Year, they left Greenwood, a promise to visit on their lips, one that was not hard to fullfill as they lived merely three days from the Mountain.
It took the two companions twice that to reach New Dale, impeded as they were with the snow covering every inch of the ground out of the forest - which had somehow retained some of the autumn's warmth.
Baraz stood under the archway indicating the bridge to the Western Gate, staring in awe at the buzzing life in the streets, even in the cold.
"They had preparing for the wedding," Filí said with gritted teeth.
Baraz swallowed the lump in her throat, and nodded. "Come, let's go back to our families." She took a pace, then two, and then stopped.
A group of Dwarven guards was walking their way, in full armour and fully armed.
"Lady Baraz Gazardu, you are summoned by our King," said their leader, and Baraz knew she had indeed been gone too long...