Thanks to DownliftedAndUnderwhelmed for beta-reading :)


pronker: It's fiction, so some things may be easier :)

dearreader: I think the potential happiness makes it all even more difficult, doesn't it?


- 53 -

Among the elves of Imladris, listening to the songs and poetry, she felt merry, and her heart was light. But when there was tale-telling, and when someone mentioned the legend of Yavanna and Aulë, Run quietly went out, and stood on the terrace, but even the noise of the waterfalls could not drown out her thoughts, and even the warmth of summer nights could not melt away the cold she felt. And on such nights, when she went to sleep, in her dreams she was young again, and the summer was high, and she was looking into a familiar pair of eyes which were like mountains meres, and she whispered all the things she had never said. And when she woke up, she shook her head and smiled sadly, for saying them now and in dreams put nothing right.

And on other nights, when there was music and harp playing, she sat in the corner and listened with her eyes closed, and recalled the firelight in the underground halls, and runes engraved on a simple wooden harp. And on one such night, Lord Elrond's daughter, the Lady Arwen, stood up when her father began playing, and she sang the tale of Lúthien and Beren. Run laughed soundlessly, covering her mouth with her hand, but the Lady Arwen noticed, and her face turned thoughtful, but she asked or said nothing.

Later in the evening, before going to sleep, Run stepped out onto a little narrow balcony, and breathed the night air. And though she shivered in the cool wind, she stood there for a long time, looking at the mountains, and thinking how foolish she was, to be so sentimental in her late years. She felt there had been no other choice, even if that did not mean her choice had been the right one. And yet deep down, though she never admitted it even to herself, Run felt she had made a terrible mistake, and then another, maybe even a worse one; but it was too late for regrets, for they would change nothing.

Run did not cry, for her tears had long gone dry, and she did not allow herself any regrets. She just walked out onto the tiny balcony, night after night, and with a smile whispered a blessing into the wind. And it took her only a few nights to stop clutching at the railing so hard her fingers went white and numb.

But life in Lord Elrond's house was calm and quiet, and soft like flowing water, and the deep peace of the place soothed all pains, and after some time Run felt as if she could breathe again fully. For the first time since she had left Ered Luin, and even more after her second departure, memories brought her no bitterness, and awakened in her only a dull ache. But even that sorrow felt sweet to her, for it meant that once there had been joy, and happiness.

. . .

The Lady Arwen was kind to her, and most gentle when asking questions, choosing words carefully, and it was clear that true interest and friendship spoke through her, not mere curiosity. That was a talk similar to many others, quiet, unhurried, and the long periods of silence were never oppressive, not when filled with the murmur of the numerous waterfalls and streams of Imladris.

"What is this sign?" the Lady Arwen asked, her hand pointing to the kerchief usually tied around the elderly woman's head, but now resting in her lap.

Run's features softened, and for a while she gazed ahead, at the far peaks on the other side of the valley, fingering the kerchief absent-mindedly. But her eyes were not focused on the ragged horizon, but further, as if the mountains stood in the way of her gazing at something far more distant.

"And what would you make of it, Lady Arwen?" she asked finally.

Lady Arwen leaned over, to give the stitched pattern a closer look, wondering aloud. "It looks like a flower to me. Yavanna's flower, maybe? That would fit well with your life as a healer. But it looks like it was carved in stone... No, that's not quite it... But of course! Iron! Cast in iron by Aulë."

The elderly woman smiled at that, running her hand along the stitched shape softly.

The Lady Arwen caught that smile. "Is it?" She smiled as well, pleased with her guess, and the very air around her seemed to brighten with the quiet joy and enthusiasm of that smile. "Is it Yavanna's flower cast by Aulë?"

Run's smile did not fade. "It's just a stitch on an old kerchief," she said in answer.

The Lady Arwen regarded the elderly woman for a moment, then put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll take my questions, then, and leave you with your memories," she said, perceptive as always.

Run nodded, then turned her gaze back onto the far mountains. Snowy peaks, the ragged lines of rocks, so different in shape, and so similar in texture to those other mountains. When the Lady Arwen's footsteps had long faded away, the healer curled her hand around the kerchief, and when she moved her head, the light of the setting sun caught on a single metal hair-clasp like fire. The symbol there was not recognizable anymore, worn out by years of use: a flower, the same as on the kerchief. Cast in iron.

She kept digging through her thoughts for a while – her grasp of what little Khuzdul she had learnt over the years was slowly slipping away.

"Azlîth," she whispered quietly to herself, with unexpected tenderness and a hint of sorrow. "May Mahal keep you..."


And here we are... This is the end.

There will be an epilogue; however, since it's different in style, it'll be submitted as a separate story, "The Songs of Ered Luin". So stay tuned and, meanwhile, check out my other fanfics :) (Ah, I know, I know, shameless self-promotion... But one has to do some advertising from time to time.)

At some point, I'll make this all into one nice .pdf file, featuring the main story, the epilogue, additional scene (which will not be published otherwise), all concept arts etc., and upload it into my deviantart gallery (link in my profile info). If you're interested, let me know, and I'll PM you once it's ready. But that will take some time, so please be patient.
Also, on account of making it an e-book of sorts, I can add questions&answers feature - provided you have any questions you'd like answered. If you do, put them in the comment or PM me.

One last thing. Would anyone be interested in a dwarf-centred fanfic? Khazad-Dum, a Durin (not the Deathless one), maybe some more tales if the inspiration would be generous. I'm not quite sure yet if that's what I'd like to focus on for another half a year, so please let me know if you'd be interested. (After LotRO, I don't think I quite got over Moria yet, but half a year is a lot of time, and there are too many fanfics waiting on my to-do-someday list.)