Chapter 9: In Which Luna Arrives in Rivendell
The roads were rough from then on out. Much rougher than they had been. Boromir was always on guard. Even when Luna took watch so that he could get some sleep, she noticed he had trouble shutting his eyes. When he did sleep, he tossed and turned, unease with the vulnerability.
A huge thunderstorm hit one week before Luna estimated their arrival to the Elf kingdom to be. There was nowhere for them to shelter Pepper, who was forced to drown in the showers for five days straight. Luna and Boromir had been reluctant to set up a tent. The small tarps were one of the few packages Boromir had managed to grab from Yellowtail's saddle. Stuck together with not even the road and their shadows to distract them, the two companions had little to do but speculate of what awaited them in Rivendell.
"Do you know what it is?" Luna asked him, raising her voice above the slap of rain on their tarps. "Isildur's Bane?"
"Do you know who Isildur was?"
"Of course," Luna answered. "The last ruling King of Gondor."
"And do you know why Gondor has never had a king since Isildur?"
"I'm afraid not. My teachings on Minas Tirith's royal seat did not hold into adulthood."
"It was a war," Boromir explained. "The War of the Last Alliance. The last time Elves and Men fought together on a battlefield. The Dark Lord Sauron vowed to take the life of King Elendil, father to Isildur. And when he took to the battlefield, on his finger, he bore a simple golden band."
"A ring? What is so special about a ring?"
"The Ring enhanced Sauron's power. With it, his goal was to rule over all free races of Middle-earth. However, on the battlefield, when Elendil fell, Isildur avenged his father. With his sword, Narsil shattered, he raised the broken hilt and cut the Ring from Sauron's hand. Without his lifeline to this world, Sauron was defeated."
"If Isildur succeeded, then why is this Ring his Bane?"
"Of that, there is no historical account, only speculation. Faramir believes the Ring took Isildur's life."
Luna shook her head. "A ring is but a piece of jewelry."
"Alas, this was not just a ring. This was the Ring of Power."
"A thing of children's nightmares and scary stories."
"You do not believe in the legends?"
"I believe in what I can see, Lord Boromir."
He hesitated before speaking again. "I know what my father has asked of you."
"Your father asked nothing of me. He did, however, make a few demands."
Boromir chuckled. "I have a feeling, whatever this weapon turns out to be, magic ring or not, it will be difficult to convince the Elves to let us simply take it back to Minas Tirith."
"We shouldn't have to convince the Elves. We will have to convince a Halfling."
"Ah, yes. 'The Halfling forth shall stand'. Well remembered." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "What is a Halfling?"
Luna laughed. "They are...little men, I suppose. They live in a haven known on maps as The Shire. One book described them as small, not often taller than three and a half feet. However, that is all I know of them."
"I suppose it would be unrealistic to ask you to know everything," Boromir teased.
The rainstorms eventually passed. And in a week's time, Luna began to notice change around her. The foliage grew thicker and greener. The trees began to smell fresher and grow taller. But the change blended well into their former environment that by the time Luna noticed, she felt silly mentioning it. They kept to the road, passing over a thick river on the way, marked as the River Bruinen on her maps. Soon on the other side, they were stopped by the first voice they heard other than each other's since their encounter with the Orcs over a month prior.
"Halt, Men of Gondor!" The voice seemed to come from above Luna and her head jolted quickly upwards in its direction. It was unlike any voice she had ever heard before. It seemed to twinkle with every syllable, like a lullabye in simple speech. "What business do you bring to The Last Homely House?"
"Greetings," Boromir called up, also seemingly unaware of where the voice was coming from. "I travel to seek counsel with the Lord of this Land."
"Pray tell, what counsel do you seek, stranger?"
"I seek the Sword that was Broken. I am called Boromir, Son of Denathor. Know my name and no longer need you call me stranger."
Not far ahead, where the foliage grew thickest, Luna heard the softest two thumps on the ground. From the greenery, two figures emerged. They were tall, with long dark hair falling out from the hoods of their cloaks. The hoods hid their faces, but Luna could tell, these figures before her were not Men. These were the Elves whose realm Luna had traveled so far to reach. "Who be the female?" the one on the right asked.
"She is called Luna, Daughter of Callum," Boromir answered. "She is a healer and hunter, sent to assist and guide me on my travels to your land."
"Our father was only expecting one from Gondor, not two."
Boromir raised his eyebrows. "I am expected?"
"In a certain sense," answered the one on the left. Luna noted their voices were seemingly identical. "But not for some time." Boromir was about to interject when the two pulled their hoods from their heads. Luna gasped and immediately regretted it. Both sets of striking grey eyes blinked in her direction. Their faces were hard to describe. Sharp and angular. Pale, but not sickly. More like they seemed to glow. Both faces were identical, down to the last pore. They bore no beards, not even stubble, yet they were not boyish at all. Young they seemed, yet Luna was lost at what age to assume them at. And their ears were pointed, which was the only feature so accurately described through the writings she had read.
"You have never met an Elf, young maiden?" the one on the right asked.
"Nor did I think I would ever get the pleasure," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.
The twins both chuckled. "Father will be pleased. A surprise you are, Miss Luna, but strong of heart you seem."
"Your father is Lord of this realm?" Boromir asked. "Lord Elrond?"
"The very same, Lord Boromir, Son of Gondor's Steward. And I suspect he will want to meet with you both once you have rested and recovered from your travels."
"Meet with us both?" Luna asked. "I am just a guide for the road. What business would an Elf Lord want with me?"
"I suspect he will try to find out why he did not see you coming," The one on the right answered. "Now, come, travelers. Cross the border into Imladris, the Last Homely House East of the Sea."
Luna pulled Pepper's reins towards the foliage growth and followed behind Boromir, who followed the twin Elves. She soon realized that the foliage wasn't growing thicker, but just upwards, along some sort of structure. The twins led them through and on the other side…
"By the Valar, that is a sight," Boromir muttered. Luna was too stunned to mutter anything. Never had she seen such a haven full of natural beauty. There were constructions around, of course, but they seemed to blend into the plants around them, rather than take up their own space. And the structures she could see were an architecture completely foriegn to her. She had never seen buildings like these that stood tall, yet unimposing. Beautiful, yet natural. Strong, yet calm. And after the sudden shock of it all, Luna began to adjust to it's differences and a sense of calm overcame her. A sense she had not felt so strongly since she had been home in Dol Amroth so long ago.
"Forgive us," said the twin on the right. "But we have failed to introduce ourselves. I am Elladan."
"And I am Elrohir. We, the Sons of Elrond, Lord of this Land, officially offer you sanctuary in our halls. No harm will find you here. Only comfort and rest until you choose to leave the Homely House."
"Lord Boromir, you will go with my brother," Elladan said. "Miss Luna, I will escort you to your borrowed quarters."
Luna glanced at Boromir, raising her eyebrows. She hated asking for his permission, but after two months of zero separation, she could not help but ask and remember the orders given to her by Denathor. Boromir nodded, reaching over to pull his bags from Pepper's saddle. "No traps or tricks will find us here. I will find you after a rest."
With that, Elrohir led him away. For the first time in so long, she was without him. A weight seemed to lift from her chest that she had not realized was there. She felt much like the first time Faramir had brought her outside Minas Tirith's walls. She felt free.
"Come, young one. I will show you our stables where your steed may rest," Elladan said, leading her toward the east of the city.
She started to notice the tall figures of Elves walking silently through the paths and gardens, through the open hallways in the buildings. "It is so quiet here," she muttered.
"Is it?" Elladan asked, leading her through a set of double doors. "These are our stables. I hope they are well suited for your steed?"
Luna could not believe her eyes. It was the cleanest stable she had ever entered. The tack that lined the walls gleamed with polish. Every stall was prepared for a horse. She could hear birds twittering up above her. Sunshine gleamed through the panels above the rafters.
"Will it do, miss?" the Elf asked.
"Will it do?" Luna whispered. "Oh, if my father could see these stables."
"Is your father a horseman?"
"My father is Callum, Stablemaster of Dol Amroth."
"Ah, a child of the sea. I did wonder of your origins. Alas, I find myself baffled still by your coloring."
"You are not the first, my lord."
The Elf held up a gentle hand and shook his head. "Elladan is my name. By that, I wish you to call me."
Luna smiled. "Then I extend to you the same courtesy."
"As you wish...Luna." He turned toward another Elf, standing in the corner and spoke softly in a language Luna did not understand. It was not however, unfamiliar.
"To hear an Elf speak Sindarin is most different than a Man," she noted, handing Pepper off to the stableboy.
"You know our tongue?" Elladan asked.
"I occasionally heard it spoken amongst Prince Imrahil and his family." She reached out and took a few saddlebags from the stableboy's hands.
"Intriguing," he noted, picking up the remaining bags. Luna could tell how obvious it was, how much more gracefully he carried the luggage than she. "Follow me, if you please."
He led her out of the stable and down a short path, up a tall set of stairs. "Imladris is often a haven for travelers on the road. Our visitor's quarters are well attended. Plenty of maids at your disposal. I will send word to the kitchens of your arrival. Food will be brought to you shortly. Until then, bathe and rest."
"You said Lord Elrond wanted to speak to me."
"My father will insist you take rest and meal first. When he is ready for you, he will find you. Here we are." Elladan stopped in front of a tall door and led her inside.
The accommodations rivaled even Lothiriel's chambers back home. It was sparsely decorated, but it did not need it. The east wall of the room opened up to a balcony overlooking the largest structure she could see. She supposed it was some sort of Hall, perhaps where Elrond resided.
"This is where I leave you," Elladan said, placing her bags on the floor. "Rest well, young one."
It was the first time she had been truly alone in months and Luna had very little idea what to do with herself. She found a drawn bath behind a partition in the corner of the room. She had not bathed in something other than a natural flow of water in so long, before she knew it, her trousers, split skirt and linen shirt were piled on the floor. She sank into the warm water and she stayed there for a long time and allowed her mind to wander.
Eomer. He still thought of her. He still cared for her. Distance and time had not changed how he felt about her. His men openly defied words of the king to keep her safe from Grima Wormtongue. She wondered where he was at this moment. Surely not as safe as she felt in this moment, finally allowed to think of him after so long of forcing him from her mind.
When her feet started to prune, Luna decided to leave the bath. A soft, warm robe was folded for her on the basin table. She put it on and exited the wash area, surprised to find a hot meal waiting for her by the door. She had not heard anyone enter while she had been in the bath, but she was so famished for a meal prepared in an actual kitchen, she thought little of it as she sunk her teeth into the warm bread. The food did not last long as she scarfed it down and soon felt the white sheets on the bed calling her name. Though it was midday, she had been going most nights with only four or five hours of sleep. And after all, she was told to rest.
Luna woke from her sleep after the sun had set and she had no clue what time it was. She hadn't meant to sleep quite this long. Would Boromir have gone looking for her? And what of Elrond?
The light curtains around the doors to the balcony waved gently with the night breeze. Luna leaned gently against the frame, looking at the Elven city below her and a memory surfaced; one she had not allowed herself to think of for many years.
"Luna?" Eomer asked.
"Mmm?"
"May I write to you?"
"Letters will take a long time to travel from Aldburg to Dol Amroth."
"I can be patient, when I choose to be."
"Then I look forward to receiving a letter from you."
She remembered holding his calloused hand. His rough and gentle skin against hers. "I am not much of a writer, but I am happy that we are not parting with a permanent farewell."
"It is still a farewell in most ways," she said. "And I find that I don't want to say it. Only the Valar can know if I will ever make my way back to Rohan in this lifetime."
"There is one thing I know for sure of you, Luna, Daughter of Callum. You are meant for adventure."
Luna twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers. He had been right after all.
A flickering light from below the balcony caught her eye. It was clearly the light of a soft fire, dancing through the windows of Elrond's house. She could tell it was a large room, not a fire lit for a night in one's chambers. She squinted, but could not see any figures in the night. Why would a fire be lit at this hour? After months of not allowing herself to idle, she suddenly felt a tingling in her toes. Without allowing herself to think and talk her way out of it, she dressed herself in a light chemise and pulled the soft robe around her tightly and took off down the hall, still barefoot.
After a few twists and turns, she managed to find a way out of the quarters Elladan had led her to. Now back on the twisting pathways of Rivendell, she could easily follow them to the still flickering firelight. And as she neared the building, she hear a soft voice.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
The voice subsided into a hum as she walked up the small incline to the door of the room, which she now realized to be a large Hall. Inside, she found a man, ears pointed like an Elf, but he probably stood not much higher than her elbow. And while the Elves were ageless in their appearance, this man was old and wrinkled. A walking stick was gripped in one hand and with the other, he fiddled with pieces of his curly mop of brown hair. Like Luna, the man wore no shoes, but, even accounting for his size, they were large feet, the tops covered in thick hair, the bottoms soiled brown. This small man could only be a Halfling.
"I know you're there," he said quietly, causing her to jump. "You spend enough time amongst the Elves, it's hard to be snuck up on."
"I didn't mean to sneak, sir," she said, entering the room. "Your song was beautiful."
"You think so?" he said excitedly, turning towards her. "I always love a good tune in the-Oh, my!"
"Yes?" she asked, confused by his outburst.
"You are no Elf!"
Luna laughed and walked a bit further into the room. "I am not an Elf, no sir. I am but a traveler sent here from Gondor."
"A traveler, eh? Well, I am pleased to meet another of those. Might I know your name, lady who admires my songs?
Luna smiled and gave a small bow of her head. "Luna, Daughter of Callum."
"Well met, Luna of Gondor," he hobbled over on his cane and reached for her hand. "I am Bilbo Baggins of The Shire."