For the second morning in as many days, Nephryn awoke to the sound of loud voices, coming from the gardens below her room. Judging from the angle at which the glaring light spilled through the windows, she had slept well into the morning though her body felt none the better for it. It had been quite late when she'd finally left the dining hall. Toward the end of the night, it had taken all her energy just to remain focused on the tall tales of one Bilbo Baggins.
Legolas had long sensed that she was very tired, and he'd offered quietly to carry her out of the hall. At that moment, seeing the sincerity of his offer, she'd almost laughed at the prospect of being carried swooning from a room of the most powerful creatures in Middle Earth. No, Nephryn Istriél had walked steadily and calmly from the room and into the hallway before turning humble, pleading eyes to her elf companion, who had graciously swept her up and carried her all the way to her bed.
Like the perfect, genteel elf he had thus proven to be, once she had changed and laid down, he had gently drawn the light quilt up to her shoulders, pressed a tender kiss to her brow and bade her sweet and peaceful dreams. Then, as promised, he sat by her side until her eyelids had fallen shut.
She smiled at the memory, basking in the warmth of the sun. Truly she would treasure moments such as those for as long as she lived. The bustle that tinged the atmosphere compelled her to rise, regardless that she felt as though she could sleep for yet another half day. She swung her legs out onto the velvet rug and stood, gingerly testing the mobility of her battered body. Her injuries had improved yet again, and as she stood in front of the window, she raised her arms in as much of a stretch that her sore spots would allow.
"You're awake, I see!" The deep voice behind her startled her, and she cowered slightly, covering her upper torso, for all she wore was a light sleeveless robe. Warm hands placed a heavier robe over her shoulders, and she drew it around her, pulling tight on the sash.
She turned slowly to view her early morning visitor. Elrond stood before her. He wore robes of birch-bark grey and deep-water blue. He wore a scabbard and, peaking over his shoulder, she noticed an ornately decorated longbow.
"You look much rested. How do you feel?" Nephryn snapped out of the trance she'd fallen into, and bowed deeply.
"I feel as though the lingering fatigue will never truly assuage. But it is better than yesterday, and tomorrow will be better than today."
Elrond smiled at her optimism and determination. He moved toward a chair and sat, motioning that she should follow suit. Clearly, the Elf-lord wished to speak to her, and for him to appear in person it would no doubt be important.
Though he appeared to Nephryn, more rested than she had seen him before, there was something in his eyes that spoke volumes about how expected her to react to what he was about to tell her.
"You are a creature of great intellect and strength of character, Nephryn. You have demonstrated that previously. It seems to me that, however, that you have more than mere talent."
Nephryn frowned at this, shaking her head for she did not know how else to respond to such an observation.
"There are a great many things afoot in Middle Earth, though I doubt that you are very aware of the most important of them. Tell me, what do you know of the Rings of Power?"
Nephryn briefly recounted all she knew of the rings; three to the elves, seven to the dwarves, nine to the men and a ruling ring, wrought by the Dark Lord, mixed with his own blood and life-force so that it would dominate all others.
Elrond nodded in silent approval, for the accuracy with which she told the tale surprised him.
"The Ruling Ring was lost, was it not? I know that Sauron has sought after it for many years, and he is not alone in his search. My pursuit by the Úlairi proves this. Am I to correctly assume that the Evil Ring has resurfaced, after its disappearance in the Gladden Fields?"
She spoke with an authority and confidence now, for this was an area in which she was most learned. Galadriél had been determined that her apprentice would be versed in the evil history so that the mistakes of old would never be repeated.
"You may. In fact, the Ring is here, at Rivendell." Elrond could see that this had shocked her. Long had it been suggested that it was only a matter of time before the Ring reappeared, but she knew as well as he the implications of having the Ring at Rivendell. It was only a matter of time before Sauron, and others located the ring, and Imladris would be besieged.
"You must destroy it!" Nephryn spoke so fervently that it seemed as though she was pleading with him.
"Please, my Lord! You were there, at Dagorlad. You know the power and the evil this object has wrought. I have studied the Ring, and know just as you that it has no master save the Dark Lord. He will find it, and when he does, your glorious haven will be no more."
She slipped into silence then, as though she were ashamed of her impassioned outburst. She dropped her gaze to the floor, almost expecting a reprimand.
"You are wise beyond your years. Such judicious advice have I heard only from those who have witnessed the evil of the Ring, or those who bear the burden of its legacy. Clearly you have studied well. Fear not, for plans are underway to banish the Ring forever, but it will take time. During that time Rivendell, indeed all of Middle Earth, will be quite unsafe. For that reason, I am going to send you on to Lothlorién."
Nephryn raised her head and caught his gaze. There was an anguish plainly written on her pretty features.
"No," She whispered brokenly.
"I can help. I want to help. Please, I am no safer there than here, by your side. I am a competent warrior, skilled with a bow and knife. I am learned in the ways of Elven lore. Please!"
Her green eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
"Your competence is not in question. You are wise. Your wisdom in life is more important than glory in death. The decision is made, I'm afraid. Though I wish it were otherwise. Arwen shall miss you dearly, as will and all who have come to know you since your arrival. But I know that their loss will be softened by the knowledge that you are safe. If Rivendell falls, Lothlorién will be the last Elven stronghold protected by the power of a Ring. Better that you be there."
A deep-seated resolve shone in Elrond's eyes. He was not to be persuaded by pleas or tears. But neither did he seem angry or piteous at her unusual display of emotion. When her tears subsided, he spoke again in soft tones.
"If I thought that you might be safe here I would have you stay, for you are family. But it is not and there are a great many other things that worry us. Let not your safety add to those worries. I know that, as much as Legolas would have you stay, he will fight better and stronger knowing that you are safe."
He said no more, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder before he turned and left.
As quickly as the tears had rushed forth, and her emotions revealed themselves, a cool impassive expression came over her. She was numb at the thought of being without Legolas, though that which terrified her more was the prospect of living out her life without him. No, she thought, it was better to do without him and that he survive the imminent troubles than to face the rest of an eternity alone.
When it came time to leave, she would show no fear, lest he fear more for her. She would be calm and strong. She would learn to live without him for a time. It could be done, she knew, for she had spent all her life thus far without him.
**********
Legolas's nimble fingers swiftly restrung the elegant longbow, though his mind was not truly fixed on the task. Rather he worried about how to break the news that Nephryn would be sent back to Lothlorién in the coming days. He knew that she was physically strong enough to make the journey, though he wondered how her mind would adapt, having only truly found peace since she arrived at Rivendell.
Truth be told, he had become quite content to have her near him and he wondered how he would be, finding that he could not be there for her.
So utterly engrossed in his troubles was he that quiet observation from the doorway went unnoticed. Nephryn stood at the door, She had dressed more practically today, for she would not be cooped inside. She wore suede brown breeches and light lace-up boots, an olive green tunic, its sleeves doubly layered for warmth and a rich earthen leather scabbard clipped around her narrow waist. She lacked only the sword to holster in it.
As she watched the fair elf-prince, Nephryn could not help but admire the beautiful weapon he wielded. It was crafted from an ebony wood, and each end was tipped in gold leaf designs. It was tightly strung with hair the shone like spun gold. At his feet, Legolas's neat leathern quiver lay propped, full to the brim with long feathered arrows.
"Do you like it?"
Nephryn smiled. It appeared that she had not gone unnoticed, and that prince
Legolas was every bit the astute tracker that his reputation boasted. He turned to her and smiled weakly. She could tell that his heart was not behind it. She could not bear to have hidden truths between them.
The words slipped out before they had truly entered.
"I am to leave for Lothlorién when Aragorn and his companions return."
She was quite proud at how her voice did not betray the turmoil beneath her words. Legolas stood and walked toward her but before he could even raise his arms, she held up one hand, commanding him to stop.
"Do not! If you touch me, I will cry. That would be undignified and silly because I will see you soon anyway."
Legolas stepped back, as though she had erected some invisible barricade between that could not be crossed. He looked at her, but Nephryn had to look away because she knew that all the pain and sadness in her own soul would be reflected in his. If she bore witness, she would crumble.
"You promised to take me out today. I am well and it is a beautiful day. I would spend my last day here with you."
Legolas merely nodded, understanding her need to avoid discussing her departure.
"I will get my cloak." Nephryn turned back toward the house.
"You will ride with me?"
His quiet request brought a fleeting smile to her face, and infused just enough courage in her that she turned and looked him in the eye.
"Of course."
**********
Arwen Evenstar pushed herself into a half-run across the courtyard, her eyes searching all around as she scurried. It was rarely that she fought openly with her father, but what he was proposing was ridiculous. To send Nephryn beyond the safe boundaries of Rivendell, when so recently she'd been on the verge of slipping away forever, was to Arwen's mind cruel. Rivendell was a safe haven.
And as she ran now, she searched not for her fellow elf-maid, but for the elf-prince whose heart she held. As she rounded the corner of the stables, she stopped short. Arwen had found Legolas, though not as she'd expected. He stood tall, next to his readied steed. Though show of emotion was rare for her, never in all her years had she truly seen a display of feeling in Legolas. As he stood there he seemed, for all the world, lost. His face was blank, though her keen eyes saw the well of tears threatening to spill and the way in which he gripped his longbow until his knuckled whitened, as though he was trying to restrain his rage.
Arwen approached him slowly. She knew that he would hear her, but was unsure if he'd welcome her presence. When he said nothing, she walked up to his side and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Legolas maintained a lost stare and did not seem to respond at all the elf-lady's presence.
"Legolas, it will be all right."
At last his gaze broke and he turned to stare at her. His bright eyes flickered with an anger and a desperation that she'd seen only once or twice in her father's or Aragorn's eyes.
"How can it be? I love her, with a force more powerful than I thought possible. It has happened in a matter of days, and now we are to be separated for months, perhaps forever? You know just as I do that Lothlorién is but marginally safer than here. If worst befalls us, we will be alone to face the dark. We are abandoning her!"
There was little that Arwen could say, for she too held these sentiments.
"She may seem frail to you now Legolas, but at her prime Nephryn is a powerful force, and strong of character. That which does not kill you only makes you stronger. She is strong, though you cannot yet see it."
She stepped up to him and took both his hands in hers, and met his gaze squarely.
"Trust that she will survive, and be sure to return to her."
The words of comfort sounded hollow to her ears but she needed some reassurance herself and hearing the words spoken made them harder to disbelieve.
At that moment, Nephryn rounded the corner. Upon seeing Arwen, she stopped short. The elf-lady turned toward her, and without hesitation, Nephryn threw herself into her friend's embrace.
"Fear not," Nephryn whispered dejectedly.
"I will be safe."
Arwen pushed away the tears, and saw that none befell her friend's face. Nephryn smiled at her then, regarding her fondly, wiping the tears with the cuff of her tunic. She said no more then and turned to Legolas. He grasped her lightly about the waist and lifted her carefully onto the horse. When she was settled, he hoped up gracefully behind her.
His touch was feather-light on her hips, and he kicked the horse into a slow trot. They turned as one and waved at Arwen.
"We will not go beyond the protected boundaries. We shall return before nightfall," Legolas shouted back, before turning and spurring the horse into a
gallop.
Nephryn sat comfortable, and though the horse raced, the ride was smooth as the beautiful steed compensated easily for the lay of the land. Wind whipped at her hair, which was securely bound at the nape of her neck. Legolas's broad chest was warm and comforting behind her, his hold on her waist gentle, but reassuring. She leaned back into him, and he pressed his smooth cheek to hers, peppering her face with soft kisses as the cool, fresh air rejuvenated their senses.
They rode for a half hour, until the came up over a crest and into a small valley. Legolas eased the horse to a halt, surveying the land with a slim hand shading his eyes. When he was satisfied that they were safe, he jumped down and stood ready to catch Nephryn as she descended.
The glade was sheltered from the breeze and the sun warmed the crisp air. They walked side by side with the horse until Nephryn stopped, shaded her eyes and inspected the land.
"There!" She pointed toward a large fallen tree trunk lying against a mossy outcrop.
Legolas followed her gaze and nodded slowly. He pulled the longbow and quiver from his back and set them on the ground at his feet. Nephryn climbed carefully across the rough terrain. When she reached the trunk, she pulled a small knife from her boot and cut a wide deep cross on the face of the bark, exposing the lighter wood just under it. As she returned, Legolas checked the arrow tips to for any bluntness or fracture that could cause it to stray. Satisfied, he handed a single arrow to the elf-maid, who now held the longbow in both hands as she studied the craftsmanship.
"You are sure you are well enough to do this?" Legolas asked as she took the offered arrow.
She smiled at him fondly, touched by his concern.
"Quite sure thank you."
Nephryn raised the bow. It was larger than she was used to, but it was finely crafted and so it was both light and sturdy. She set her feet apart and stood at an angle to her target, as she'd been taught. Long slender fingers set the arrow to the wood and strong arms pulled both arrow and string back, behind her shoulder.
Legolas watched as she set aim. Certainly Arwen had been correct when she'd spoken of Nephryn's skill with the bow. Her hands did not shake, and her stance was such that no part of her body touched against the bow frame. Such a mistake was common in even moderate archers. If there was such contact, it might affect the angle of shoot or the speed of the arrow.
For a single moment, Nephryn stood perfectly still as she sighted down the arrow and then, with the grace and ease of an expert, she released it. The arrow sang as it cut the still air. To a mortal it would appear but a blur, but Legolas watched as it sliced through the air. It missed some foliage and branches narrowly, but it seemed that such tight targeting was intentional for the arrow plummeted through the centre of the cross that she'd etched into the wood.
"Very good!"
Nephryn looked at him, but did not regard the comment as condescending, as others might. Instead she simply nodded her head in thanks.
Legolas went to the shaft of wood and pulled out the arrow. Then he pulled out his own knife and cut out a second cross directly below the first. When he returned to where Nephryn stood, she had already selected two arrows and was setting them to the bow. Carefully, she slipped the held the arrows between her fore, middle and ring finger. Just as Legolas had been taught, she held the arrows close to the tip, near the blade, so that she could sight down more accurately. She released the shots just as before and again the targeting was precise, piercing each cross at dead centre.
Legolas was impressed. It was entirely possible that Nephryn was a better shot than he himself was. This time he did not bother to retrieve the arrows but went instead to the horse. From a satchel hanging on the horse's flank, he pulled out a square of muslin cloth. He scooped up a handful of twigs, earth and moss, and checked for pebbles or stones before putting it onto the cloth and tying it with thread.
He held the sack up for her to see.
"Now we shall truly test your aim." He waited as she readied the bow, and then launched the small bundle it into the air. It was only seconds before the sack was torn from its flight and pinned to a tree trunk. As he retrieved it, he noticed that the arrow had pierced above the tie, such that the contents were not spilled. Nephryn noticed his close inspection.
"So that you do not have to prepare another!" She shouted to him.
She turned and sat on a small boulder. As she leaned over, she held her side slightly. Legolas noted her discomfort as her walked back toward her. As he came up behind her, he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder.
"Perhaps you aught to rest. You have proven that you are very skilled."
Nephryn smiled at the compliment, for it meant much coming from an archer of Legolas's repute.
"But you are still better. And I will learn and become more skilled so that when you return to me, we shall be evenly matched."
Though she spoke with levity in her voice, Legolas did not miss the underlying words. She was insisting that he return to her.
"Nephryn, you know that I cannot tell what awaits us in the coming days."
When she looked up at him, all flippancy was gone from her face and her eyes misted over with unshed tears, their jewel-like sparkle smothered beneath the iron mask of sorrow. She stood slowly and awkwardly, and took both his hands in hers. She could not bring herself to look at him then, for fear that she would cry and never stop.
"Tell me what it is that steals the light from your eye," Legolas implored quietly.
"I am scared," she mumbled, her eyes still fixed on their intertwined hands.
"I feel now that if I were to lose you, my will to live would die with you. And this scares me more than my own death or yours. The very thought that in only days, our souls having seeming become interdependent and that I cannot bear to be away from you. I fear that what I feel is simply the manifestations of a desperate girl. For if it were true, and in only days I loved you, what does that entail for the future."
Legolas's slim hands had cupped her face, as though to quell the storm of emotions that raged in the elf-maid. The words she spoke put better expressed his feelings than he could ever have himself. There was very little in life the Legolas was afraid of, but the strength and depth of the emotions that coursed through him now terrified him. They held him in such sway that he found himself ready to sacrifice any and all for her safety and happiness.
At that very moment, Elrond's true reasons for sending Nephryn away rang through. Could it be that the wise Elf-lord saw in them a blinded love before even they themselves had seen it? If anyone would see it, it would be Elrond for, as he himself had stated, he had seen the greatest loves and hates in Middle Earth over the last six thousand years.
He leaned down impulsively then and captured her lips with his own, endowing passionate ardent kisses. When they broke for air, he looked deep into her smouldering eyes and pressed his forehead to hers.
"I understand your fear. I feel it too. But my soul tells me that you are the one with whom I will spend the remainder of my days, be they long or short. It is best that you be in Lorién, for if you are there you cannot come to harm and I will have no fear that you will not be there when I return. And so I will try harder to return, knowing that you await me in safety."
His tender heartfelt words stunned her into silence, and she merely nodded. Legolas did not need to hear words though; he could see the profound love in the tears that fell and the sobs that choked her breath. She sank to the ground and he supported her as she fell. They sat there, embraced for an eternity, until her tears subsided.
For the rest of the afternoon, they did not speak of her departure or of their newly discovered love. They eat and drank their fill. Nephryn practiced further with the bow. They walked down to the river Bruinen, and there they bathed their feet and spoke of their lives before Rivendell and their fateful encounter.
At nightfall, just as comrades at Rivendell had begun to worry, Legolas and Nephryn returned as they had promised. She was encircled in his protective embrace now, her face hidden from curious eyes. The elf-prince reined the steed to a halt and slipped down to the ground. Nephryn all but fell into his waiting arms, for exhaustion enveloped her to the point where she could hardly hold her head up. A stable hand took Legolas's bow and quiver and led away the grey stallion, and the elf-prince carried his precious charge to her room.
As he walked, he felt her succumb to sleep. She lay in his arms, her head curled against his shoulder and one flailing hand thrown around his neck. In only a matter of hours, it seemed that she had come to trust him completely, just as he had hoped.
For a third night, he stayed by her side, watching her sleep, trying to commit to memory the contours of her face. Hours later, Legolas sat there still, watching as the rising moon cast an ethereal glow on his beloved's face. That image, he thought, could sustain him through anything the dark powers threw his way. That and the fact that his passing would be followed by hers, and to deprive this world of such a magnificent creature would be a crime that he would not be a part of.
**********
The sun had peaked high over the summits of the Misty Mountains when Aragorn rode back into Rivendell. His companions had parted with him at the borders of Imladris, for never was their toil in the pursuit of Mordor's minions done. As he rode into the courtyard, it seemed empty. As such, when a solid hand landed on his shoulder while he was removing the saddle form the steed, Aragorn was startled. He whipped his arm around, aiming to strike at the throat of unknown enemy with the blade of his hand. Were it not for Elrond's sharp reflexes and equal fighting skill, the elf-lord would surely be unconscious at the man's feet.
Elrond deflected the arm easily and stepped back holding up his hands. Aragorn exhaled heavily and a ghost of a smile danced on his lips as he pointed a warning at the Elf-lord.
"It seems that I may have taught you too well."
Aragorn laughed lightly, shaking his head at the seeming ridiculous comment.
"There is no such thing as being too well prepared. You yourself told me so. And you have but passed on skills that you have mastered over many of my lifetimes."
Elrond smiled and bowed his head, acknowledging the deep respect that existed between he and his fostered son. His face darkened measurably though as he turned to matters more serious.
"What news of the path to Lothlorién? Is it safe?"
Aragorn said nothing as he hefted the weighty saddle and placed on a hay bale at the door of the stables. When he turned back to the elf, his face was dark and foreboding.
"We found no Orc or Úlairi, but that is not to say that they hadn't passed through. Truly there is no place safe now. If you send Nephryn on, she must be well accompanied and they aught not to stop for any reason. To do otherwise will invite tragedy. Do you consider her well and strong enough for such a journey?"
"She accompanied Legolas to the pastures beyond the river today. She was tired when she returned. She has acknowledges that the journey is necessary. I believe that she can make the journey, but there is a risk. I must ask her to consider this for I cannot force her out to the danger from which she has fled for so long."
Aragorn did not respond, merely nodding his head. He did not envy Legolas, for had he to make the same decisions that now faced the Elf-prince, Aragorn would surely falter.
Elrond walked away, taking over his shoulder as he moved back to the house.
"You have done well Aragorn. I thank you for your noble services."
When the Elf-lord had disappeared inside, murmured under his breath, "T'was my duty my lord, though not my pleasure."
Indeed Aragorn would rather that none of them would have to leave Rivendell and that that blasted Ring had never resurfaced. But such yearnings would achieve naught, and there a great deal yet to be done.
**********
Elrond raised a hand and knocked lightly on the heavy oak door. The sun was high in the sky, and he knew that the elves would not be spending perhaps their last day together cooped up inside. He heard soft murmurs behind the door followed by a louder voice.
"Come in!" Elrond obliged and pushed open the large door. When he entered, he saw Nephryn sitting on the bed, fully clothed in a tunic and breeches. She sat cross-legged, and was surrounded by an array of weapons. Legolas lounged in a chair beside her, a lazy, relaxed smile on his face.
The Elf-prince stood when he saw that their visitor was the head of the house, and was about bow when Elrond waved him down.
"It is too early in the day for formalities. What is all this?" He gestured toward the array of instruments on the bed. There were daggers and long-knives, bows and a quiver and several smaller items, some of which were foreign to his eyes.
"Legolas has offered to part with some of his possessions until we meet again. He thinks I shall need them for my trip!" There was levity in Nephryn's eyes as she spoke, as though she considered the suggestion preposterous. It weighed heavily on Elrond's heart to inform them of Aragorn's news. It seemed that even in his wisdom, his face was something of an open book for Legolas sensed immediately that something was amiss. He stood again, concern written plainly on his face.
"There is news!"
Elrond inhaled deeply, in preparation to fend off what would likely be an angered elf.
"Aragorn returned with the morn. He and his comrades have scouted the most direct path to Lothlorién. Though they did not encounter any creatures of the Dark Lord, it was clear that Orcs and possibly some of the Úlairi had passed that way. It would be remiss of me not to warn of the danger of such a journey."
There was a pregnant pause and the air was charged with tension and anxiety.
"You would have her leave regardless?" There was a challenge in Legolas's voiced that dared Elrond to spur his anger.
"If you truly do not wish to make the journey, then you are welcome to stay, for if Rivendell is not a refuge first and foremost, it is nothing. No I will not ask you to act against your will. But the circumstances of your safety have not changed."
It seemed that although the two elves were discussing Nephryn's decision, she was not a part of it. There was friction between Elrond and Legolas, both wanting for her safety but by very different means, and her voice had become lost in it all.
"I will go." Legolas looked at her, stunned. There was a flash of anger in his
eyes. Had she betrayed him?
"I must leave, for there are a great many dangers wherever I go. I will be of most value where I can continue to study under Galadriél. Where I will be out of your thoughts. You must not worry. Only concern yourself with staying alive."
For a moment, it seemed that the elf-maid's pleas had no effect on the Legolas. Then the elf-prince's face softened, and her reached out to her face, caressing her cheek gently.
"I know." Nephryn bowed her face into his touch, and the burden of her decision pulled at her heartstrings. She closed her eyes to stifle the tears that threatened.
Elrond stood back a little, feeling as though he was an unwelcome intruder on the scene before him. At last Legolas pulled back, resignation and a perhaps acceptance on his features.
"She will travel with at least seven other elves. They will be well-trained and well-armed." Though the request was spoken more like an instruction, Elrond merely nodded. He understood the Elf-prince's need to feel that he was doing as much as possible to ease her journey.
"I will select them myself," Elrond added, hoping to reassure both elves.
"And you will travel as one, without pause. It is a four-day journey. If you continue without break, you will make it in two, two and a half days. You can rest when you are safe."
Nephryn nodded dumbly, as the reality of her too-sudden departure set in.
"When do you want me to leave?" She whispered the words, waiting on bated breath for an answer. Elrond could see that she was preparing herself for the worst.
"Today. Prepare you belongings now and we will leave when you are ready."
"I will never be ready to leave this place." Nephryn stammered dejectedly.
Elrond regarded with fondness, the girl-elf that was once the hope for Lothlorién to thrive when the Lady of the Light passed over the sea. Though her heart was aching and her spirit seemingly crushed, he still saw in her an inherent strength, a determination to persist despite her fear or doubt or weaknesses. When such fortitude was coupled with a natural talent for the art of Elven magic, a formidable and inspiring leader was born.
"You will survive. And you will return here one day, and then we shall talk of the days when we risked all for such a little thing as freedom."
Nephryn mustered a smile from under the suffocating coat of fear.
"I will hold you to that. And I anticipate the day when we will all be free once again to continue our lives." She bowed formally, giving thanks for the short stay and the kind care. Before he left, Elrond pressed a soft, father-like kiss to her forehead, and whispered quietly to her.
"En aifrein y vetei sufletül" Be well and stay safe.
It was but two hours when Elrond had assembled seven elves, all well armed and eight strong steeds. In the end, Nephryn had could not bear to come between the bow and its master, and she had instead chosen to take two daggers. She walked slowly beside Legolas now as they made their way to the stables. She had one knife tucked into her boot and the other tucked into a belt at her hip.
"Come now!"
Both elves turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Aragorn strode toward them purposefully. He carried in one hand, a longbow and quiver and in the other a small box.
"I come to bid you well and safe journey." Though he sounded jovial all knew that the man wanted no less that the elf-maid be safe.
Aragorn stood before her and bowed lightly. Nephryn smiled graciously at the gesture. Then Aragorn held out the longbow and quiver to her.
"It is light and sturdy, but not too cumbersome for your small frame. It shall serve you well though I'd rather hope that you will not need it at all."
Nephryn was touched by such a kind gesture from a man who was practically a stranger. Legolas stood behind her and affixed the quiver to a leathern baldric, which hung from her right shoulder to opposite hip. Then he secured to longbow to the quiver. Aragorn was right. The bow was smaller than Legolas's, but no less durable and its smaller size would not hinder Nephryn in the saddle.
"And Arwen bade me give you this. She cannot bear to part with you again, but she sends her love and prayers. She said this once belonged to you." Aragorn held in the palm of his hand a small ornately carved wooden box. The blackened metal hinges and tarnished gold lock gave nothing of its contents, only that it was very old.
Curious, Nephryn took the box and pried the stiffened catch with small nimble fingers. When it opened at last, its contents startled her so she almost dropped the box. Her breath caught in her throat as she pulled out a most exquisite emerald set in a bronzed metal casing. The casing was fashioned in the shape of a teardrop, and was affixed to the end of a long chain. Legolas looked on curiously.
"What is it?" Both man and elf wondered what it was that could affect her so.
When Nephryn finally looked up from the intricate piece of jewellery, there was a joy in her eyes that neither Legolas nor Aragorn had seen before.
"It is the Brightstar. My namesake. Just as Arwen is Undomiél to her people - Evenstar - I was deigned Istriél - Brightstar - by the Lady during my study with her. She gave me this, though I thought it lost in my flight from the Orcs beyond Lorién."
She folded the chain neatly back into the box and pushed in deep into a small pouch attached to the sash of her tunic. She took Aragorn's hands and pulled him close and pressed an almost motherly kiss to his temple.
"Thank you for this, and all that you have done. I do not know as well as I would like, but you shall make a King such as Gondor has not seen since the fall of Elendil. Of this I am certain. Give Arwen my thanks, and tell her that we will meet again."
Aragorn nodded in silence, wishing more with every passing moment that both he and Legolas could safely see her to the Golden Wood. Such a loss to the elf-prince would it be if she were to be lost now, so soon after they'd found each other. Though he could not quite put this in words, it seems that there was no need for to the elves his face was an open book. They saw his concern and worry plainly etched on his face, and both seemed to acknowledge and take heart from it.
"I am sorry that I cannot do more. I pray that your journey be swift and your enemies far away." With that he bowed formally and left them. Though he was glad that he could help a little, the reality of the situation was not lost on him for he knew that if things took a turn for the worst, he might never see the fair and wise elf-maid again and such a prospect left him aghast.
**********
When Legolas and Nephryn arrived at the stables, her companions were mounted and ready to leave. A single tall grey mare stood, clad in light armour and a bridle. Elves had no need for a saddle, and used it only when necessary. Aside from her newly acquired weaponry, Nephryn also carried a small sack tied to a roll. Legolas took the roll and threw it over the horses back. In it there was fresh water, lembas and some Kingsfoil.
He turned to her and they embraced in silence for words were woefully inadequate in expressing the profound sorrow each felt at the parting. There were no tears though. They had been spent hours ago. Legolas kissed her softly on the lips and when they broke, he kept his forehead touching hers as he spoke in quiet, insistent tones.
"Do not stop for anything, even though exhaustion will dull your judgement. If you should fall prey to Orcs if you are nearer to Rivendell than Lorién, do not hesitate to turn back. Do you understand?"
There was a fierce doubt in his eyes, as though she did not carry his warnings with enough weight. She raised a hand to his face, tracing the fine contours of his face, as though trying take with her the memory of his being.
"I will not stop until I am face to face with the Lady herself. We shall ride hard, without pause. I carry arms and strong comrades and the good wishes of all that I leave behind. Fear not. Just promise you will return to me."
Legolas could not speak, for a lump had lodged in his throat and cut off his voice. Her courage and determination were breathtaking and he was dumbstruck.
"I love you." His words were choked and filled with pleading, as though the words could stay her departure.
Nephryn nodded, and could only mouth the words in return, because her voice was simply gone. The truth of the words hit as hard as any force, and she found it still difficult to understand how such a bond had developed in mere days.
Without warning, she found herself being lifted onto the horse. She looked down at the handsome elf-prince who, by some miracle, had so quickly captured her heart and soul. The love and care that radiated from his face, the like of which she had never known, was all the inspiration she needed to sustain her for the trip. She spurred he horse onward, but had not travelled far when she stopped, and turned to face Legolas one last time. Their eyes met and without a word, she fished out the wooden box from the pouch at her hip. She threw as hard as she could and Legolas's quick hands caught it easily. When he looked back to Nephryn, the group had left and crossed the narrow stone bridge over the Bruinen at a gallop. Shaking hands pried open the small case. Inside, delicately folded was Istriél, nestled in velvet glinting dully in the dying evening sunshine.
He knew what it meant. She wanted it back, but only if it was born in his hands. For her sake if no other, he would fight and work and survive to return the keepsake to her.
TBC
Want more...
(A simple yay or nay will suffice thank ye, no flames cos I know how to return ta sender just as well as the next obsessed fic writer ^-^)