Book Nine A wedding and a homecoming
ii The halls of his fathers
At dawn a week later, King Elessar, and Éomer King of Rohan, with some of their knights, went to the tombs in Rath Dinen and shouldered the bier of Théoden, son of Thengel, King of the Mark, which was covered in cloth of gold. They bore it in silence down through the City to a great wain that waited at the City Gate. The old King's banners were arrayed before his body, and Meriadoc of the Shire rode in the wain, being the King's esquire, wearing the green of Rohan, with the white steed upon his mail. Then the Riders of Rohan formed an escort about the wain, and behind it ranged in formation King Elessar, with Frodo and Samwise at each hand. With them rode Mithrandir on his great white steed Shadowfax.
Éomer King and his sister, the White Lady of Rohan, rode behind Elessar, and with them rode Peregrin, with the Knights of Gondor, who always escorted the King of All the West everywhere. Legolas and Gimli rode together upon their horse Arod, just behind this leading cohort, escorted by more of Elessar's Knights. Behind all these rode Elrond with Eären his wife, she dressed for travelling in her elven tunic and cloak, with Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir, at each hand. Queen Arwen, accompanied by Galadriel and Celeborn, escorted by a fair company of elves from Imladris and Lórien, rode with them. Behind these came Prince Faramir of Ithilien, and the Captains of the City, and the Prince of Dol Amroth, with his swan knights. Last came all those lesser notables who also took the northward road that day, including knights and ambassadors from many lands, who had visited the City during this time of celebration, and now returned home at last.
Many folk of the city stood about the Great Gates and ranged along the north road a good long way to see them depart. When the whole cortège finally moved off at a slow pace, it was remarked everywhere that no King had had such a company to see him to his grave as Théoden Thengelson, King of the Mark!
The cortège travelled at a steady pace, without haste, in the shadow of Mindolluin along the Pelennor Field to the north gate in the perimeter wall. Thence they rode to the Grey Wood and Amon Dîn, turning west into Anorien, and beyond it up the Great West Road, a familiar route to those of the Mark and the Eärendili, who had ridden down it with such fell purpose earlier that year. At night, they bivouacked along the foothills of Ered Nimrais, the White Mountains, and when all their tents were pitched, and lamps lighted, so great was their number that they seemed, to any who saw them from afar, as a brilliantly lit city on the move.
Finally, after fifteen days of travel, they came to Edoras, in the foothills of Starkhorn, where the Golden Hall was lighted and all was prepared in welcome. The following day they buried Théoden, King of the Mark with all honour, and many of his oldest friends and kin watched through the night by his green burial mound. Just as the dawn was lighting the foothills to the east, it seemed to the watchers then that his spirit rose, and, mounted on his great white horse Snowmane, he rode to glory to feast in the halls of his long fathers. It was a sight that Merry never forgot, that filled him with both sadness for the passing of the good old king and joy to see him thus united with his ancestors of the House of Eorl.
Then there was held a great feast in the Golden Hall to celebrate Théoden's life and to mark his passing. Éomer King was toasted by his countrymen as the new king of the Mark, and, to Eären's great joy, when the young king rose in reply, he announced to all the company gathered there the betrothal of his sister Eowyn to the Prince Faramir of Gondor. While all drank deep in response to this welcome news, Elrond turned to Eären and said softly, "Our good work in the House of Healing bears fruit, at last, I think." She nodded, happy beyond measure to know that she might bring her dear brother to the Temple, one day, even as he had brought her. Only the day before her wedding had Faramir and Eowyn approached her with this good news, but they requested that she keep it in her heart, as they deemed it not fit to rejoice, until the funeral of Eowyn's uncle was over.
Éomer now heartily toasted Elessar as saviour of the Mark and of Gondor, and after much cheering, clapping and stamping of feet, the king finally rose in response to the toast. He spoke wisely and well of the friendship between their two countries, and his hope that it might be renewed forever. He took this opportunity also, in Eowyn's home country, to name Faramir once more as Prince of Ithilien, and gave him all the lands east of broad Anduin below the mountains, for his own, to rule.
Finally, when all ceremonies were at an end, and there was no more reason to linger there any longer, they bade sad farewells to those who would travel no further with them.
Prince Imrahil now wished to return to his own country in the south, for he had been long from home, and Queen Arwen also went no further, but must now bid the saddest and most final of farewells to her father and brothers. Elrond rode with her up into the hills behind Edoras, that final evening and none but they saw their most bitter parting. Only Eären saw, when, very late that night, her lord returned to their apartments in Edoras, and his face was graven like a mask with sadness. She saw that he would not speak of this event, perhaps for a long time, and she kept silence herself.
On the morrow, Imrahil and Arwen rose early to bid the diminishing company of travellers farewell.
"May your life be blessed with your new lord," said Imrahil warmly to Eären at the last, and they embraced lovingly, both much moved. She clung to him a moment, feeling the sharp pain of losing a loved uncle, who in truth had been as much a father to her as her own.
But Imrahil said fondly, "Go in peace, beloved niece, and let us trust that time and fortune will bring us together again."
Arwen also embraced her at the last, saying softly, "It is a strange fortune that we part thus - you to Imladris, my fair home, and I to the White City, yours! Yet Imladris will care for you well, if you care for it. May the days that are given to you there be blessed and fruitful!"
Eären kissed her on both cheeks, and wished her the best of all happiness in the White City with Elessar - and her heart was full of nothing but desire for her joy.
With many similar fond farewells, the remaining, diminished company set out for Helm's Deep, where Legolas went with Gimli on their long promised visit to the Glittering Caves, and Gimli claimed to have silenced his dear friend Legolas quite, by their beauty!
Then they rode on west, for Isengard, for Elessar dearly wished to see how the Ents had transformed that black stronghold, now that it was wrested from under the sway of Saruman. There they learned, with mixed feelings, that Treebeard had decided to let Saruman go, for he no longer feared for his malice in the world, he said. Mithrandir was clearly dubious of this generosity, but he saw that he could not mend it now, and said no more. Indeed, now that they were on their road home, the wizard seemed to have returned to his more serene and taciturn self, and said very little to anyone. Elessar received the keys of Orthanc from Treebeard, and in return, he gave to the Ents the valley of Isengard, to tend in perpetuity.
Here, too, began the final breaking of the fellowship of the ring, for now they bade farewell to Legolas and Gimli, with much grief among the remaining companions. They two wished to fulfil the second part of their bargain with each other, and visit the deep places of Fangorn, and from there they would travel on home to Mirkwood together, they had decided. As they said their farewells, Gimli voiced what was no doubt the thought of all, at the last, that he feared this company would never be all together again. However, he also hoped, he said, that some of them might meet - though at different times and places - and so it was to be.
On the further diminished company rode, now with greater speed, being fewer, to the Gap of Rohan, and the final parting of the ways came, of those whose lives lay north, and those whose lives lay south.
Now, the most painful parting of all took place with Elessar the king, who had come as far as he could, but who could ride no further with them. His life had so touched each of their lives in a profoundly transforming way, that to leave him behind was almost unthinkable for them all.
The hobbits' simple open grief helped Eären to maintain her composure, though with an immense struggle, for she had long dreaded this parting, almost as much as Elrond had dreaded the parting with his daughter. How hard it was for her lord, indeed, she could not begin to guess. He had but recently left a beloved daughter behind, and now had to face parting with one who had been a son to him. Yet, for once, her own pain occupied her so entirely that she had little choice but to leave Elrond to cope with his own pain as well as he could, and she trusted in her heart that he would understand.
They halted, at length, near the Fords of Isen, at the very spot where Pippin had first looked into the Orthanc stone, fateful precursor of all that followed in the last days of the War of the Ring. And when all that was friendly, affectionate or nostalgic had been said, and when all that could be said had been said, there came at last the heart-breaking moment when there was nothing left to do but part.
Therefore, their company left Elessar, sitting astride his great horse, high on a hill, in the grassy plains of Rohan, with his Knights about him, at about sunset, on the 22nd of August. It was fully a year since Eären had first met him in Imladris – and had seen, even then, how time and suffering had wrought much change in him. Now, that time seemed an eternity ago, and the events of the last months had changed their old friend Strider almost beyond recognition. When they looked back, for the last time, before the green country closed around him and obscured him for good, his white cloak caught the rays of the dying sun, and turned blood red, and he held up the green elf stone, as high aloft as he could, and its green rays poured forth light around his head.
Blinded by tears, Eären now set her face towards the north, and she and Brégor plodded on in silence. Elrond, perhaps overcome by similar feelings, did likewise. Indeed, no one in the company had the heart to speak for many miles, until finally they made camp for the night in the western shelter of Methedras, the southernmost peak of the misty Mountains. Then, with a brief breaking of bread, meat and wine, they all retired to their quarters and slept the sleep of exhaustion, such as comes to all, after deep grief. However, when they lay in their tent, Elrond held Eären close to his heart, long into the silence of the night, and she held him close also, though neither of them spoke a word.
The remainder of the journey north was a long and hard one for Eären. It seemed to her that a light had gone out of her world, and try as she might to recapture it, as it had flamed in the Temple, when she had walked so assuredly, like a Princess, on the arm of the King Elessar of Gondor, she could not.
Fortunately for her, others were in distress also. Frodo was strained and bone weary much of the time, though uncomplaining, and Meriadoc's wounded arm, where he struck the terrible Nazgûl Lord so bravely, began to ache and to trouble him greatly. Samwise and Peregrin were simply weary, sad and bereft of speech. Therefore, she and Elrond were grateful to be able to put aside their own grief, and concentrate on doing what they could for the hobbits, to make them comfortable, and to ease the hardship of their lengthy journey. The ride was tiring for Eären too, but her natural hardiness in the saddle came to her rescue, learned at the knee of kind old King Théoden, her kinsman. Now, his spirit did not desert her, she was glad to find, but seemed to her to ride beside her betimes on Snowmane, and sustain her along the way, with a jest and a song and some good stories from her childhood.
After another twelve days of hard riding, they came within sight of Moria Gate, now broken, ruined and impassable, and they lingered some while in that place, for it was a fair country, now that it was free of orcs and wild wargs, who had scattered and disappeared following the fall of the Dark Tower. Elrond, Mithrandir and the Lady Galadriel sat together, far into the nights, and remembered their long lives, during the three Ages of Middle-earth, now passing away, and considered what might befall the new Age, now dawning.
Eären did not attempt to disturb this old comradeship, of which she could have little part, but rather sat contentedly with the hobbits, before a blazing campfire, and told and heard stories with them, and heard them sing some of their happy, simple Shire songs of harvesting, and tramping the road, of drinking and eating good food. They seemed to comfort her dreary heart, she found, better than finer philosophies might have, in that hour.
She did not hear the Elrond come to bed, on the last night before their departure from Moria, and when she woke, it was to find that Celeborn, Galadriel and all their fair folk were dressed, saddled and ready to depart. This was their shortest way home, they explained, and so they had planned to set forth early, to cross the Mountains by the Redhorn Gate, and thence to the Dimrill Stair, to come down into Lórien once again, The companies mingled a last time, therefore, and many sad partings were said.
Lord Haldir now came to her to say goodbye.
"I did not imagine, comrade, when we set forth together from Imladris so short a time ago, how bitter our parting would one day prove," he said to her sadly. "You have been the best of comrades – stalwart, brave and resolute to the end. I shall never forget you!"
"Nor I you, Haldir," she said, heart sore. "Yet, I pray that you will not forget the feast in Imladris that Glorfindel promised you. Come to us before another year passes, and I promise you will receive a welcome such as few have received in the valley. Nevertheless, for a little while, go in peace. And may the Valar guide your way under the stars!"
Then they kissed each other on both cheeks, and he left her. Lord Celeborn now came to her, and said gravely, as was his usual manner, "Enjoy your life in the fair valley of Imladris, my lady. May your days be blessed with much sunshine, and your nights full of peace. Yet when you sleep there, do not fail to remember the gratitude of Celeborn, and all the elves of Lórien, because of your defence of our beloved land. If ever you are in need, call upon me. I shall not forget you!"
They embraced also, and he left her. Last came the Lady Galadriel, small in her white dress, her great golden eyes full of feeling, and she said, "Now comes the time when we must part, my Lady Eären, and I fear that we shall not meet again in Middle-earth, save once, at our last riding. At this parting, I have no gift to give you, except words. Yet that I give. When grief lies heavy upon you, and your suffering seems past bearing, remember Galadriel's words, 'When the first blossom of spring shakes the bough, and the river rises from his winter sleep, all shall be well. Go forth then, into the world, and live again!'"
Puzzled, as so often, by Galadriel's remarks, Eären nevertheless bowed, and thanked her. She took the lady's hand, and kissed her, on both cheeks, and so she departed. With many cries of 'Namárië! Namárië!' the elvish company waved and now turned away, east from their former road, and headed steadily towards the rising sun, and the Redhorn Gate. It seemed all too short a time before they had dwindled to a few specks on the far horizon.
Now Elrond, seeing Eären look about her with some dismay at their small company, said, "You are sad, my lady, to see so many old friends go?"
She nodded, and bit back fresh tears. Seeing them, he took her in his arms, and held her, for a moment, in comfort, as he had not done for some while on their journey.
"We have not talked as much as we might have done, these many days," he said now, soberly. "Forgive me. I fear that a journey such as this was not the best way to begin our life together. Travel does not favour speech, and when we rest, we are tired and wish to sleep. Yet come, my love – try to keep up your spirits, and do not let your heart fail you at the last. For in seven more days and nights we shall ride into Imladris together. Only think - that then you shall be home, at last, and I promise you a welcome such as you have not seen since you entered Gondor, in triumph, after the fall of the Morannon Gate! Then, when we have feasted with my people, sung many songs and told many stories, we shall go home to our bed in my house across the valley, which you always loved, I recall. And I will give you soothing potions, and you will sleep in comfort, on fresh sheets, in my arms. You will not wake until you are quite refreshed and at ease, and all the weariness of travel and much sorrow have left you."
It was a happy picture he painted, full of good memories of her time in Imladris, before the War of the Ring, but, even more importantly to her, it was lovingly spoken, and had its effect. Her sad heart warmed within her a little, and she took his arm, saying, "I do look forward to that, my dear lord. Do not fear that my heart will fail me now. Only bear with me a little longer, I pray you – extend me all your patience, until we reach home."
Elrond looked searchingly into her pale, grieving and travel-worn face, and then, full of love and care for her, said simply, "No patience has ever been needed between us, my dear Lady of Imladris. I doubt it ever will be. Be as you are – do not expect either to please me or to fail me by your changes of mood, for, even as you are, you are the lady I first loved above any, from the time I first saw you riding into the valley of Imladris! Only this I ask of you – that you come home with me!"
She was more moved by this speech than any that Elrond had said to her, for a very long time. She put forth her hand, and stroked his beautiful hair for a moment, as she had been wont to, in days before their marriage, and said softly, "You said once that I was your doom – but, oh, you did not know that you were mine!"
After they left Moria, the road was a straighter and easier one, and the weather held fine for travel. One evening in September, as the first autumn leaves were beginning to flutter to the ground here and there, they came through the foothills of the Misty Mountains and out of the thick trees, and unexpectedly, as always, they found themselves looking down upon the brightly lit valley of Imladris. The hobbits cheered, and every face in the company brightened immeasurably. Elf lookouts had been posted along the foothills for a good way to greet them, and they now ran to meet them, holding up lanterns in the early dusk to guide the weary travellers home, their faces full of joy.
With these as their guide, and filing slowly down through the trees, they soon struck the hidden narrow stair, hard to find for those who were strangers, but which Elrond's people found with the surefootedness of many years' acquaintance. Turning the sharp bend which had once concealed it from the world's eyes, they came upon the sound of the waterfall, and passing over the elven bridge, in single file, they at last entered the gateway of Imladris, by the path which ran along the banks of tinkling Loudwater.
Already, from afar, they had been able to hear wild elvish laughter and the sound of singing and music. Nevertheless, as soon as they set eyes on the long, winding valley, they were astonished to be greeted by what seemed every elf in Imladris, who now came forward, decked in flowers, singing and applauding, to hang garlands of welcome round their necks, while pipes, harps and instruments of many kinds sounded forth peals of jubilation, at full volume. Now Elrond's elves ran forward to bow low and offer greetings to their returning Master. As the captivated company slowly began to dismount, other elves ran forward to take their horses' bridles, while yet more came forward eagerly with refreshments - water to lathe their hands and tired foreheads, and quaravas to wash away the dust of long travel in their throats.
"There's nowhere like Rivendell!" said Samwise happily, stretching his weary, short hobbit legs painfully and wiping the drops of his welcome drink from his mouth. "Already I feel like a new perian." For their speech had become larded with strange-sounding terms like this one, which they had picked up on their travels, and which would set them apart, ever after, when they returned to their homes, though they did not suspect it now.
Eären had felt anxious, more than once, about their arrival, for she had long imagined this moment, unsure how she would be greeted on her return as Elrond's lady. Happily, she had little cause for worry. As she sat her horse a moment longer, surveying the glad scene, she found at her elbow, holding himself ready to help her dismount, none other than her dear old friend Alrewas, accompanied by a small group of retainers, bearing refreshments and assorted garments.
Now, gaining her notice, he bowed low, eyes twinkling in his elegant, handsome face, and said, "Welcome home, Lady of Imladris! You are thrice welcome, because you return to us as a friend, as a victorious soldier in the fray, and now most of all as the Mistress of this fair valley. May all your days with us be as full of joy and peace as today!"
When he had helped her dismount, he gently removed from her at once her dusty, travel-stained cloak, and replaced it with a rich, amethyst-coloured mantle, clasped at the neck with pure white gems. He placed on her head a thin silver circlet. Then all the retainers bowed low, and one offered her quaravas, in a fine silver goblet, while another stepped forward with an ewer of fresh, fragrantly scented water, and a white towel, and she washed her hands gratefully. When she had finished, she turned to see that the Lord Elrond had been similarly newly clad in a richly decorated, heavy cloak, as darkly blue as the evening sky over Imladris, and a bright sapphire adorned his brow. He smiled at her, his grey eyes alight, across the backs of their horses, for he was glad indeed to see in what honour his bride was received.
The other guests were fêted in similar manner, all greeted with different welcoming gifts, and Mithrandir, leaping down from Shadowfax as though he were a young man, despite his years, received a long chain of white gemstones, like small flowers, that was placed reverently round his neck.
Alrewas now bowed to Elrond and said, "My Lord, if it pleases you, a great feast has been long in the preparation in the Great Hall, and we would gladly accompany you there. Your servants await you, and when you are ready, you may all come in to the feast at once."
Elrond raised an elegant dark eyebrow, and his wry expression as he looked at Eären seemed to say that he saw no likelihood of their avoiding it! However, the smile that tugged at his lips belied any doubts about his pleasure.
"Very well, Alrewas," he said heartily, his deep voice carrying vibrantly through the twilight glades. "Lead on – and we shall follow you."
He raised one cloaked arm, and gestured to Eären to slip under it, and with his arm thus firmly about her shoulders, a comradely gesture, they set off together, stepping happily in tune, along the valley path towards the Last Homely House. All who saw them thus together applauded loudly, and sang good wishes and heartfelt desires for their future happiness together.
A small anteroom in the House had been set apart for the two of them, and they found helpers awaiting their arrival, including Elrond's personal servant Finavel, and Miriel, the elf maid, whom Elrond had given to Eären when she was last in Imladris. Miriel, when she saw her, bowed low, bright-eyed with pleasure to see her old mistress before her.
"Oh, my lady!" she said happily. "How well you look. I wish you all possible happiness in your new life with us. We shall do all in our power to make it so. Lord Alrewas asked me to attend you when you arrived. What may I do for you now?"
"Miriel," said Eären happily, taking her hands in greeting. "This is a welcome surprise, indeed. Here is Frea, my maid from the White City. I hope you will be friends."
Poor Frea, who had followed her to the Elf House, was looking open-mouthed with astonishment at her first glimpse of the fabled elven valley, and Eären realised suddenly that she would need someone to take care of her, until she had had some opportunity to grow accustomed to that remarkable place.
"Frea – Miriel will show you where our home is, and answer all your questions tomorrow," she said. "But for this evening, be free, and take your ease, for you have had a long journey also, and deserve your time of feast and celebration." A waiting elf sprang forward at once to take Frea to where she might attend to her own needs, for in the valley someone always seemed to know what anyone needed, even before it had been uttered.
Then Eären said to Miriel, with a wistful sight, "What I would like more than anything, Miriel, is a bath!" For she did not feel entirely ready to face an elaborate feast, and thought longingly of her large copper tub in the dressing room of her chamber at the White City. To this remark, Miriel however said, "Why indeed, my Lady. You shall visit the Lord Elrond's pool, of course, whenever you wish. But if I may suggest it, I can help you to wash here now, and change your garments for the feast, and you may enjoy the pool later in the evening, before you retire, for it is ever soothing and conducive to sleep."
This seemed a good compromise, and with Miriel's help, and with the aid of a beautifully wrought elvish screen, she thankfully stripped off her garments, and Miriel refreshed her tired limbs quickly all over, and towelled her dry. Then she brought her a pile of fresh clothes, for the elves were noted for their fine laundering, which craft they enjoyed greatly. They included an exquisite new dress of amethyst lace, which, Miriel said, had been made especially for her by the elves during her absence. When she enquired how it came to fit so well, Muriel reminded her, laughing, of the elf dresses she had received, as gifts, long ago, when her own clothes had been in need of washing. The elves had modelled the new dress, she said, on the old ones, and so its making was easy – and the old dresses remained in her wardrobe, Miriel added, and the elves hoped she would wear them again, and soon.
The new dress however was something spectacular, for the lace of which it was made was gilded with exquisite flower motifs, she saw, picked out in perfect, tiny, white and purple gems, which sparkled like the starlit heavens that she could see once more shining over the Hall. The seamstress who had finished the work stood by, and when Eären had stepped into the dress, she put a few finishing tucks and stitches here and there, so that as, if by magic, it became a perfect fit. Now Miriel let down her long, richly curling hair, and brushed it with a little oil to a brilliant burnished glow, and plaited a few knots about her face, elf fashion. Then last of all she replaced the amethyst coronet, and then drew the brilliant cloak with which the elves had greeted her about her shoulders.
"Now, my lady, you look like the Lady of Imladris – ready for the greatest elven feast in the land!" she said happily, as she dabbed a few drops of sweet-smelling lavender on her brow and her kerchief.
When she emerged from behind her screen, she saw that Elrond had already emerged from his, and, with a shock, she saw that by some magic transformation, he seemed to her once more to have become the mysterious Elf Master with whom she had fallen so passionately in love. She realised now what she had sensed, but been unable to put her finger on at the time, that there had been a subtle unease about him in the White City, only apparent now that she saw him in his own habitat once more. For cities, she thought ruefully, are not made for elves, though he had never once complained of that, making the best he could of her home, while he was there. Elrond now wore a brocaded ivory satin shirt, with a high collar, made of the finest fabric, with minute gemstones woven into its threads, and over it was his familiar velvet tunic, and the new dark blue cloak overall. His beautiful hair was burnished on his shoulders, and the gemstone on his brow sparkled like the light of Eärendil itself. However, his bearing was what struck her the most, for he seemed so much at ease in his own country, and his grey eyes had regained all their depth and penetration, that she had once found both enticing and alarming.
Seeing her emerge, he came to admire her, taking her hands, and gazing at her from head to toe.
"You are beautiful beyond imagining, Lady of Imladris," he said tenderly. He took her small left ear in his hand, and to Miriel, he said, in a brief aside, "Something tiny for the Lady's ears, I think."
Her fingers in haste to please him, Miriel looked at her tray of jewels, and found a pair of tiny amethyst earrings and slipped them on. Then, not taking his eyes from her face, the Lord Elrond held out his hand to an elf on his other side, saying simply, "The bracelet?"
This elf brought forth a flat, beautifully tooled leather jewel case, and opened it with a flourish, and Elrond took from it a magnificent silver filigree bracelet, of an inch or more in width, studded all around with heavy white and blue gems. He now placed this carefully round her slender left wrist, where it hung in splendour, rays sparkling from it that seeming to set the whole room alight. He said simply, as he did so,
"A gift, my beloved, to welcome you home."
"My lord!" said Eären, astonished, gazing at it, bereft of speech for a moment, for she saw that it was no ordinary bracelet, but one a long time in the making, of deep elvish craft, and containing jewels rich enough for a Queen's crown. Then she murmured, "It is quite beautiful. You are too generous to me, my lord."
"A love of fine things is a weakness of my people," Elrond said, with a wry smile. "One which I hope to exercise often, now that you are here! Whatever you desire, you shall have, my most beloved bride. For I promised you that, should we came through the darkness, you would know the bliss of the elves, and I have not forgotten this oath."
He took her face in his long, elegant fingers, and kissed her lovingly on the mouth. Their helpers waited respectfully by him, deeply interested in this evidence of the harmony of their relationship. For even the eldest of them had not seen their lord in quite this mood before, and they saw that it was a romantic home-coming they witnessed, which would be long talked of in the valley, and soon made into song, as was their custom.
"And now," said Elrond, turning to Alrewas, who stood by, "I believe we are ready to go into the feast."
The great Hall, with its polished wood floor and long tables, which she remembered so well from her stay there last year, proved to be packed to the rafters, not only with elves and the company who had just arrived, but many distinguished visitors who had come there specially to greet them. There was King Thranduil of Mirkwood, father of Prince Legolas, Glóin, father of Gimli, Lord Baranor of Dale, and many representatives of the foresters and hunters of the woods round about Rivendell, who had come to show their gratitude for the victory so hard won.
Eären and Elrond were seated in the place of honour, Elrond, as always, in his high-backed chair at the High Table, and she on his left beside him, while his sons Elladan and Elrohir, clad in their finest, sat on either hand. The place of honour, on the Elf Master's right hand, was saved for the Ring-bearer, Frodo son of Drogo, who had also been clad in ceremonial beauty in a fine new cloak, with a circlet wrought in enamelwork and gems of leaves and flower petals on his curly head. Ringing cheers and clapping greeted his appearance there. Elrond's magnificently clad Elf Lords Glorfindel, Erestor, Alrewas, Niniel, Finarfin and even the stately Hador ranged alongside these, while distinguished visitors took places of honour at each end of the Table. Foremost among these was Frodo's dear friend Samwise, the two younger hobbits, the elderly hobbit Bilbo, who had come forth to greet them early, to Frodo's unbridled delight, and Mithrandir, who with his white gemstones about his neck seemed to shine in the darkness of the hall like a beacon to light all their ways.
There were, too, at that feast the kin of Aragorn, the chieftains of the Dúnedain, of the line of Isildur in the north, who had ridden with them, from the White City, though their Chief, Halbarad, was a sad loss to their company that night. None the less, he was toasted now, and long remembered in the annals of Rivendell, for his valiant defence of the City and his faithfulness to his liege lord, Aragorn, on the field.
When all were seated, elves ran forth with serving dishes piled high with every delicious food that the land provided, save living beasts. There were steaming fresh soups, piled platters of roasted vegetables, salads of all kinds, corn, oats and potatoes, wild honey, exotic fruits, dried fruits and nuts galore, galaxies of fine cheeses, elvish way bread baked in a dozen cunning shapes and sizes, and goblets of fine wine, quaravas and sparkling herbal drinks. Then they all fell to and satisfied their long hunger of the trail, liberally, for though they had not gone hungry on their journey, they had lacked the home-prepared food that satisfies the stomach and the heart, which now appeared before them in plenty. Even the hobbits, who enjoy good food more than most, found that they could eat no more, at length, and hobbits did not send back food without good cause.
After the meal, of course, more drinks were served, and the company repaired to the Hall of Fire, which had been magnificently decked for the occasion with flowers and garlands. All now gathered round the great fire in the hearth, which had been lit during the meal for the first time that year, for it was already a cool, autumnal night in the north, unlike the White City, which had yet been warm and sunny when they left. Now, minstrels sang and there was dancing and mirth and joy unconfined. Comfortable and relaxed as she now was, her weariness in abeyance for that time, Eären listened, enchanted, for long into the evening, while clear elvish voices soared to the dark rafters overhead, and both she and her lord joined happily in the singing.
However, after some time, despite herself, she began to feel impossibly sleepy, and after struggling for long with her eyelids, which simply would not keep open, she whispered remorsefully to Elrond that she feared she must excuse herself, if she were not to sleep where she sat!
Elrond leaned towards her to whisper in her ear, where she sat beside him, "My love, I know you are tired. But I think we must wait just a little while longer, for I believe there is one final ceremony we have not yet seen."
He beckoned then to Lord Alrewas, Master of Ceremonies of the evening, and when he came, said quietly, "I think our guests will wish to retire soon, Alrewas, for they have had a long journey. May the last ceremony commence?"
Alrewas nodded at once, and as soon as the present song ended, he stood forth, in the midst of the gathering, and held up his hands for quiet, saying,
"Honourable lords and ladies, elves, dwarves, men kind, and our most honoured hobbit guests of the Shire! This night should never end . . . . . ."
A chorus of agreement supported this observation, waking Bilbo with a jerk of surprise, for he had been quietly sleeping in a corner for some time.
Laughing, Alrewas continued, "But we must think of our honoured guests, and how far they have travelled."
A murmur of understanding followed. He held up his hands again for silence.
"Let us, therefore, fill our goblets, for one last toast, and then we shall end our festivities for tonight with a torchlight procession!"
He beckoned to the serving elves, who had worked hard all evening to ensure that everyone had what they wanted, and they now came hurrying round the room again, charging the goblets afresh with pitchers of good Imladris wine.
When all were ready, Alrewas raised his goblet high and spoke thus, "Friends, we have honoured the Ring bearers, and all the Companions of the quest, and we have praised Elessar, Elfstone of Gondor and King of All the West. We have praised the valiant deeds of all those who fought in the Battles of the One Ring. One only have we not honoured this night, and that is our owned beloved Master!"
A chorus of assent at once greeted this remark, and Elrond looked taken aback. Evidently he had not expected this when he asked for the final ceremony to commence. Alrewas was continuing.
"For his guiding hand, amid the darkest days, for his faithfulness in time of need, for his patience, courage and endurance, and his wisdom beyond measure, when all seemed past hope, we remember him now! May he live long and happily with his new bride among us. We offer him our fealty, and our love. I ask you, friends, to raise the loving cup, for the last toast, which is: Elrond, Lord of Imladris! May the stars shine upon his face!"
The answering, "Elrond!" which followed Alrewas's toast, in a mighty shout, from every voice in the assembled company, left no doubt of the warmth and admiration in which their lord was held. All now rose, as one, to their feet, and lifted their goblets towards him. Goblets were drained, and the company seemed to reach a zenith of happiness in that moment, which would seldom be seen again in the valley of Imladris. Eären too had no difficulty in rousing herself at this call, and she raised her goblet with a will, and smiled delightedly at her dear Lord, glad to hear him praised, and so deservedly.
"Speech!" cried the hobbits, and this cry was soon taken up around the room. Elrond saw that he would not escape too easily from this night's revelries! After a rueful glance in her direction, he rose languidly to his feet. An expectant silence now gradually fell.
"Honoured guests, neighbours and companions of old," he said, looking round at their flushed and happy faces thoughtfully, his clear voice carrying to the furthest recesses of the room. Even the busy serving elves had come out to listen, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "In an age now long past, I was herald to Gilgalad, when Isildur first cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand. My part in those dark days, as a young elf lord, was to go to war. At the last, victory was ours - or so we thought. Yet the darkness persisted, through all our efforts in battle to bring it to an end."
He paused, evidently weighing his words carefully, as was his custom, and Gandalf nodded approvingly, for these sentiments echoed his own deeper thoughts.
"I founded Imladris when the Shadow gathered once more, and the remnant of those who resisted it needed a place where they might gather strength, be healed of their wounds, and renew their hope. I am proud of the way in which our beloved home has fulfilled that task. It has been a light in the darkness through many long ages."
All eyes filled with something like tears at this valediction, for all knew the truth of it.
"Now, victory is ours, once again, and once again it is tempting, as it was then, to believe that the Shadow has been destroyed. The victories at Isengard, on the Pelennor Field, and even at the Black Gate of Mordor itself, were the most comprehensive yet achieved by those who would live in peace, without the constant threat of corrupting power, greed and fear over them."
Many voices murmured assent to this. Elrond's face was however sombre now.
"But let me remind you all of this, that what has been before can come into being again! This time, at least, let us not deceive ourselves into believing that the darkness has passed forever. Sauron is dead, that is true. But the darkness did not merely lie in Mordor, in the foul fires of Orodruin!"
Many shivered at the very mention of that name, and Frodo looked pained and sad. Elrond continued.
"For the darkness to gain strength, it must be given leave to do so, in all our hearts, in each and every one of us."
He looked round seriously at their many earnest faces turned toward him, and now he had them listening, and thinking, as they had not before that evening.
"Therefore, glad and pleasant though these celebrations have been - and I thank you for them with all my heart, for they have been a gift I shall long remember - let us go soberly now to our beds, keeping in our hearts all those who suffered and died, because we – and I mean all the free peoples of Middle-earth – were every ready to forget the shadow! And lest we forget, once more, I therefore propose that, in all the years to come, on this day, the 21st day of September, we hold a great feast in Imladris, in remembrance of these events, and of all that was suffered by so many in the destruction of the ring. Moreover, let us invite representatives of all the races, to join that remembrance with us, in token of the part each played in it. Therefore, I ask you to raise your cups yet once more, and the toast I make is: the Fallen of all lands!"
The company now rose solemnly, and raised their goblets, saying, "The Fallen!" and once more drank deep, and more soberly, as Elrond had requested.
Then he turned, and would have left the hall, but Alrewas stopped him, saying, "Kind Lord, pause only a moment more, before you leave, for we would guide your steps, and those of your bride, with torchlight, to your home, in token of our gladness to receive you back in Imladris the Fair!"
As he said this, elf bearers ran out from the interior of the hall, all bearing hands full of brightly burning torches, and they handed these to everyone who wished to hold one. Then all the elves, leaving before the guests, ran forth and lined the paths of Imladris, in a long guard of honour that stretched along the whole valley, as far south as the stone seat beyond the garden, by which - how could Eären forget? - they had set forth over the mountains, and to the northern extremity, marked by the waterfall and Elrond's house. It also spread out round the whole greensward, so that all the outbuildings were illuminated, including the Houses of Healing and the smaller guest houses, which housed the most distinguished guests, including Gandalf, Herubrand, and King Thranduil of Mirkwood. The fair valley looked magical indeed, everyone saw, by this means, for it was a flood of brilliant light in the darkness, as it had ever been, from days of old. And the greatest joy was that there was now need to conceal the light.
When all was ready, Alrewas bowed low before Elrond and Eären, and holding the largest torch aloft, he guided them and the honoured guests between the torchbearers, and, their faces flickering in the flames, they ceremonially left the Hall and passed along the many paths of the valley. They lighted Frodo and Merry to bed first, for they were billeted in the Houses of Healing by command of Elrond, and then those who stayed in the Guest Houses, and finally they reached the waterfall and the Lord Elrond's own front door. There, the large oak door mysteriously opened, as she had often seen it do, in days gone by. Elrond now took her hand and they stepped, together, over the threshold, while all clapped and cheered and harps and pipes played the gayest music to light them to bed.
