"Well, Sam," said Kerra, staring hard at the ship, "it seems to be time." Her family had melted away, leaving only herself at the top of the hill with Elanor and Sam.
"Yes," Sam sighed. "It's time." He pulled on the reins of his pony and was about to start down the hill when a welcoming cry was heard behind him. Turning as fast as his aching body would allow him (although he was in wonderful condition for being one hundred and two, all the days of heavy riding had been rough on him), he was stunned to see several figures on ponies riding towards them.
"You didn't think you could get away without saying goodbye to us, did you, Master Samwise?" A striking blonde woman was at the head of the party, out of breath and windblown; she and her companions had obviously been riding hard for a long time.
"Tasla!" Sam's eyes were wide and joyful. "How did you know?" His face was a mass of happy wrinkles as Tasla reined her pony in next to his and dropped a gentle kiss on an old cheek.
"We have our ways, Master Samwise," she replied archly. Elanor nearly froze as her father gestured towards her and she became the focus of an intense emerald gaze. What was it about the fey, that they needed such devastating eyes, Elanor thought disjointedly as Tasla swept her up in a hearty embrace. Before long, she was thrust into another round of introductions; names from her father's story blurred in and out of her hearing...Tasla...Masirat....Votal...Iaka...they were all there to see her father off.
Sam was overwhelmed by the arrival of such warmly remembered friends, and even more touched when they all insisted upon accompanying him down to the ship. Elanor stayed close by her father's side, with their hands tightly linked between their two ponies. Amid the chattering, happy throng, Elanor had never felt closer to her father.
The ride was over too quickly. They had reached the bottom of the hill, and the time had come for farewells.
Elanor felt the tears coming hard and fast; until now, she had been able to deny to herself that her father was leaving; now, the time to say goodbye had come and she found she had no words to tell her father just how much he meant to her.
He heaved himself off his pony, joints creaking, and Elanor followed suit, with the rest of their companions soundlessly steering their mounts to line both sides of the path to the ship, silent guardians, filled with love and respect.
She gripped Sam's hands, tears blinding her. Her mouth worked unceasingly, but the only word she could get out was "Papa...papa..."
He laid a gentle, rough hand on her cheek. "Hush, sweeting. I...I have something for you." He reached into his pack, untying the strings with trembling fingers, and reverently, gently, withdrew the Red Book. He laid in in Elanor's hands, and she burst into thick, shaking sobs.
"Oh Papa, it's all finished, your story, it's all done--"
"Hush now, Elanor," Sam said sternly in the voice that had never ceased to bring her to heel as a child. She blinked at him through her tears and he placed his hands on her shoulders.
"My story may be done, my dear, but yours is still going on...'tis not only my story that'll be in this here book. Someday," he said, tapping the Book, "this book will become many books, filled with all sorts of adventures that aren't here yet." He smiled tiredly, and looked at the ship. "I think another part of my story is just beginning.
She threw her arms around him, sobbing breathlessly into his shoulder. "Oh Papa, I love you so much...I'll miss you...oh Papa!"
He stroked her hair, still light and buttery as it had been since she was born. "Hush, Elanor. It'll be alright...I love you too." His voice broke on the last word, and he pulled away roughly. She backed away, her heart aching ceaselessly, and watched him as he started to walk down the path to the ship. He walked so slowly, touching every fey's hands and whispering something to each of them in turn. Finally, just as he was about to climb the stairs to the ship, he turned back, gazing at the figures before him, silent and waiting. They all saw him suddenly reach under his shirt and lift something out. Elanor felt her heart spasm as she realized what it was: Anemosi's taena.
Sam lifted his eyes to meet Kerra's anguished gaze. She knew what he was doing, and it made her heart turn over in her chest. *Oh Sam,* she thought. *You long for her so...you wonder why she is not here...oh Sam...*
He gripped the taena in his hand tightly, feeling it lay cold and dead in his palm. He turned away from Kerra and faced the wood from which they had come, and whispered a name that made his entire being cry out for silver hair and skin, for the memory of eyes he would carry to his grave. "Anemosi," he whispered. "Oh Anemosi, this is goodbye...forever. My beautiful, beautiful Anemosi..."
He waited, for a movement within him, for a sudden rush of wind, for anything, but nothing came. Nothing. Nothing was different except for his heart, which was well and truly shattered. He raised aching eyes to meet Kerra's as she swung down off her pony and hurried to his side, her face agonized.
"I'm sorry," he moaned as she took his hands in hers. Tears were streaming down his face as he tried to hold in huge gulping sobs. Merrie had come to stand beside Elanor, and the two women had linked hands tightly in mutual support.
"I just wanted to say goodbye...where is she? Is she gone? I would have felt it, if she was...I just wanted to see her one last time..." His voice faded into wracking sobs as Kerra squeezed his hands tenderly.
"You poor old fool," she said lovingly, wiping away the tears with a battle-hardened hand. "You should have known you could not call her...Sam."
He froze in mid-sob. The voice that spoke his name, that was not Kerra's voice. Who had called him? He looked around wildly, trembling uncontrollably.
"Sam." There it was again! Who? Who?!
"Sam!" Oh, that voice!
"Oh, Sam!" breathed Kerra. "You should have known you could not call her...if she was already here."
Sam cried out, a sad mix of joy and wonder and an old, old longing that made Elanor's heart rise like a bird. He whirled around, and his eyes fell upon a slender figure, swathed and hooded in a grey cloak. He could not see under the hood, but could it be? Oh, could it? Could it...
The figure slowly raised graceful hands and lifted away the hood. Elanor had a brief glimpse of silver, reflecting the sun, when her father moaned out loud and she heard Kerra's muffled cry of joy.