Epilogue
Homecoming
"Are you certain this is best course?
Melia straightened and lowered her arms from the task of brushing down Lomelindi's velvet like coat. Since their arrival in the dry, arid climate of the Sunlands, the animal was constantly plagued by dust and sand being caught in its fur. Melia had taken to performing this daily ritual to ease the beast's discomfort. The animal had come to her from Rohan and had cost her almost a year of savings to purchase. Lomelindi was more than just her horse; the mare was her friend. In a time when Melia had been completely alone in her life, existing as mere shadow in the woods of Angmar, this beast had been her only companion. She had no intention of allowing herself to forget that now that her life had changed.
Turning around slowly, she met the anxious gaze of Aunt Felamin, her father's youngest sister who was awaiting her answer.
Melia had never known her aunt as a child because Felamin lived in another village with in the Bors Tribal lands. Felamin had married before Hezare's return from the western lands and as custom dictated, was forced to travel to her husband's village to begin her new life. Unfortunately, the devastation of the Scourge had seen Felamin lose not only her husband and most of the men in his family, forcing her to take her own children and returned to the village of her birth. Kirin who at the time, suddenly found himself the High Chieftain had been more than happy to welcome her into his house, having lost his mother during the attack. Felamin had tended to Kirin's house until his marriage and now enjoyed the reputation of a dowager of sorts, caring for her family both infant and adult.
Melia wished she had known the lady when she was a child because despite being hopelessly trapped in the Tribe's apparently outdated customs towards women, Melia and her aunt had liked each other immediately. Since her homecoming, Melia had spent a great deal of time with Felamin whose wit and good humour reminded her greatly of the father she had lost.
"It is the only course," Melia said impatiently, resolute in the decision she had made and refusing to entertain any other arguments to the contrary. "I am going to find my husband. I should never have fled in the first instance. Of course, it is hardly surprising since I seem to have a history of running whenever I am faced with any situation of difficulty."
"That is hardly fair," Felamin pointed out. "You have been through a terrible ordeal. You told me yourself when you came here that you thought that you were doing the best thing for your husband by leaving him and forcing him to follow you."
"No," Melia shook her head and turned away, her eyes staring through the open door of the stable into the horizon beyond, "I did what was best for me. I should not have made that demand of him. I wanted to save him but put no thought into whether or not my decision was wise. I have had time to think Aunt and I know I erred in asking him such a thing."
"It was a mistake borne out of love," Felamin said sympathetically, liking this headstrong young woman very much. Felamin had not known Melia's mother but there was no need for that since the girl was almost all Hezare. Felamin thought and not for the first time since meeting Melia, how much like her father Melia was. Melia had Hezare dreams in her head, his determination in her eyes and while her face was an amalgamation of both parents, Felamin could only see Hezare.
"I ran from him once Aunt," Melia confessed, feeling more a fool when she spoke the truth out loud. "I promised him I would never do that again and here I am, having done the very thing I promised I would not do. I should have been more sensible. I could have simply returned here and told him that I needed to come home. After what we had endured, I do not think he would have begrudged me that desire but coercing him to leave the battlefield, whatever the intention, has no excuse. I keep thinking of Legolas as my love when I ought to have remembered that his is also the Lord of Eden Ardhon and for the moment, the commander of the elven army. It was irresponsible of me to make such a demand of him."
"You were trying to save him from himself," Felamin approached Melia and rested a comforting hand upon the younger woman's shoulder. "All of us have heard the tales of his rage at Axinar. It is understandable that you behaved as you did. You did not wish him to destroy himself in the pursuit of his vengeance."
"So I made a demand of him he could not possibly keep and knowing him, it would have hurt him deeply to refuse me my request," Melia dropped her gaze to the straw covered floor in shame. "I only hope that he is still in Mahazar when I arrive."
Melia felt no anger that Legolas had not come to her in the wake of the news that Mahazar fallen to the Tribe of Bors and the western army. How could she when his arrival would only drive home how foolishly she had behaved by demanding he leave his army and his responsibilities? She had thought to save him from himself by taking away his vengeance but to deny him the right to kill Dallanar was not her choice to make.
It was his.
Only he could decide whether or not he wished to travel that path even if it led to destruction. She could try to convince him against it but ultimately; no one could make the decision for him. She should have gone to him as Gimli had wished. She should have gone to Legolas to embrace him in her arms and tell him that no matter what, she loved him still and always would. It was her own shock at what he was capable of doing at Axinar that had sent her fleeing like a frightened child. It appeared her entire life was one endless flight after another. It disgusted her completely that she had not recognised that by now.
Ironically enough, coming to the Sunlands had replenished her as she had hoped it would. Suddenly what happened to her in Eden Ardhon seemed very far away and though there would be scars upon her psyche that would never truly fade, she knew she could live with them and perhaps the ordeal had even made her stronger. However, she first had to find her prince and tell him that she was a fool and perhaps he might forgive her for doing the unthinkable once yet again. Melia hoped he could forgive her.
"The war is ended," Felamin answered, resigning to the fact that Melia would leave as she intended the next day and nothing said would change her mind. "I would imagine that the western army would have some issues to attend before they can depart."
"I would imagine that they would have quite a great deal to contend with," Melia answered, unable to imagine what an enormous task it must be to set Haradwraith in order now that the enemy was conquered.
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Hadar, Kirin's son of seven years. The boy had latched himself to Melia soon after she had arrived, demanding to hear the tales of the western lands. Melia was able to oblige him with the legends of the Fellowship and the history of the elves as imparted to her by Legolas, earning her his undying adoration. He had Kirin's sweet nature with a smile that would charm any woman he met in his adulthood.
"Cousin Melia, you must come!" The boy ran across the room, pausing long enough to secure Melia's hand in his before resuming his journey the way he came.
"What is it?" Melia asked as she allowed herself to be led by the boy, offering Felamin a look of puzzlement as she was forced into the sunshine outside.
Felamin shrugged in similar confusion, choosing to follow her younger family members out the stable to investigate the reason for Hadar's excitement and insistence. Children his age were usually inclined to see the most inconsequential things as important but even Felamin had to concede that there was more than the usual enthusiasm in the boy's manner.
Melia emerged outside and saw that there was a ripple of excitement moving through the community. Men and women alike had emerged from their homes and were staring in the same direction. Their expressions were a mixture of awe, wonder and excitement. Melia wondered if perhaps Kirin and the army had come home. However, her appearance divided their attention as some turned to her and began muttering amongst themselves. Happy smiles and anticipated expressions filled their faces, forcing Melia's stomach into a nervous tangle of knots.
"Look Melia," Hadar exclaimed as Felamin came to stand next to them, "it is him. He has come."
Melia followed Hadar's gaze and understood at last what had captured the attention of all the villagers in this community. She felt her heart quicken at the sight of the prince, astride Arod with Gimli at his side, his fair skin a little more tanned than she remembered owing to the heat and his hair even more golden under the sun. To the Bors, he looked as if he might have stepped out of the pages of an ancient book, the kind that Bor's descendants had brought with them from Beleriand. For many who had never seen an elf in their lives, the memory of Legolas' first arrival into their midst's would be burned into memory forever.
Melia did not see an elf or the great hero of the Fellowship or even the conqueror of Haradwraith. She saw only the man she loved and knowing that he was here and he had come all this way despite her selfish demand sent her running forward before the thought had reached completion in her head. She was barely aware that Hadar had attempted to follow her only to find himself secured in Felamin's grip to prevent it.
Melia hurried forward; unable to believe the tonic it was to her spirit to simply see him. Eru how she had missed him and prayed that he was in the mood for forgiveness. She told herself that she deserved whatever anger he may be feeling but was hopeful because he had come all this way. She understood completely that he had to wait until the war had ended and was grateful that he had. When she had heard that Dallanar had died at the hands of Gimli, not Legolas, Melia knew that there would have been no way that Legolas would permitted it unless it was his choice. How she had underestimated him and even as she hurried towards Legolas, felt another surge of shame at her inability to rise to the occasion when he needed her.
Legolas saw Melia approach and felt his own heart swell with emotion at seeing her. She looked well he thought and there was a sparkle in her eyes he had not seen since before Eden Ardhon. Had returning to this place agreed with her as much as she had claimed it would? Legolas brought Arod to a halt upon seeing her and noted that his arrival into the village was causing much commotion with all eyes fixed upon Gimli and himself. It was likely that none of these people had ever seen a dwarf or an elf and Legolas wished he were a less tainted representative of his race to mark that initial introduction.
"She looks happy to see you," Gimli remarked, his own pleasure at seeing Melia apparent on his grinning face.
Legolas flashed the dwarf a returning smile, hoping that it could convey to Gimli the thanks that words were inadequate to express. The journey here had been long, requiring them to travel the length of the Sanara River and crossing the Turan Mountains to reach the Bors Tribal lands. They were accompanied by some of the Bors who had parted company when they neared their own villages once they inside their territory. Legolas discovered that the Tribe of Bors was a collective of many villages stretched across the Sunland's, the principle being the village of Borean, so named after the descendant of Bors who crossed the Turan Mountains and founded the Tribe.
Dismounting the animal, he felt slightly uncomfortable by the fact he and Melia were being observed but supposed he drew attention by his very presence, to say nothing of his relationship to Hezare's daughter. Arod seemed to recognize his master's lady and sniffed her familiar scent with two loud snorts. Legolas crossed the space between Melia and himself, wondering if she knew how great that distance truly was. It felt like an eternity since he last beheld her and seeing her again made him wonder how he could have ever thought of risking her love for vengeance.
Neither spoke as they swept into each other's arms and crushed their lips together in a kiss full of passion and fire. For a time, there was nothing else in the world except for the touch, taste and feel of one another wrapped in a passionate display of love and desire. It took the breath away, it made the heart pound and infused each other with a rekindling of spirit that was devoid in both for too long. The wounds that had marked them seemed less when they were together and it was proof that their love would survive their recent troubles.
Legolas had forgotten how it felt to kiss her, to breathe her, to simply bask in the presence of her because it had been so long. It was almost nine months since he had last seen her. For elves it should have been a blink of an eye but without her it was a long and torturous. He could not begin to imagine how men retained their sanity when time moved so slowly for them. He took from her lips all that he could, a parched man indulging himself at an oasis. She too was happy to quench his thirst for she appeared just as needy as he.
Still, parting was inevitable and Legolas pulled himself reluctantly away from those enchanting lips to stare into the pools of her eyes, burning with love and spirit once more.
"This does not mean I am any less upset at you," he said with one brow arched.
"I deserve it," Melia declared readily. "If you had but been a day later, we would have missed each other. I would have been gone in the morning."
"Gone?" He stared at her.
"I was going to Mahazar to find you," she answered sincerely. "I was coming to tell you that once again I was a fool for making of you're the demand to leave the war to be with me here. I should not have asked that of you. It was wrong. I sought to save you from yourself. After seeing what had happened at Axinar, I was terrified that you would ruin yourself because of me and so I thought that I could use your love to make you see sense but it was wrong, I was wrong. The choices for your conduct are your choices. I had no right to take that from you. Since being here, I have thought of my behavior and I feel ashamed that I had to come so far away to discover my weakness. I am sorry Prince, I should have been there for you, not make the situation worse."
Legolas heard her words and saw the emotion behind them. He could never stay angry at her for very long but he was grateful that she understood why he could not leave the battlefield. "You complicated it," he spoke after a moment, "but you could never make anything in my life worse. I am glad you understand that I could not leave, that there are responsibilities I must uphold no matter what the consequence. I am who I am Melia and it is not in me to turn away from my duties, even if you mean life and death to me."
Melia took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply once more before answering, "I have never doubted your love for me, I only feared that you were going to destroy yourself in your vengeance against the Haradrim king."
Legolas blinked and lowered his gaze but a moment as he summed up the courage to respond. There was a multitude of feelings inside of him regarding that subject and he needed a pause to compose his thoughts .
"I could have killed him Mia. He was within my reach. I could have killed him or at the very least made him suffer just as torturously as he made us both suffer these past months but I could not do it. I was faced with the choice and I realized that if I killed him or harmed him as I wished, I would only be harming myself. So much of me have become tainted in blood, my love for you is the one thing that has remained pure throughout everything that has transpired in Haradwraith. If I took his life in vengeance, that love would be soiled and I could not bear that. I have much to atone for Melia but I refused to atone for this too."
"We have both of us much to atone for," Melia said firmly, meeting his blue eyes in earnest, "but we will do it together. I left you once and though this time I thought I left you for the best reasons, I am still ashamed of my conduct."
"Do not be," Legolas placed a hand on her cheek, "you had cause in my behavior."
"I love that you wish to absolve me but I know my sins as I am certain you know yours," Melia replied. "I promise you on my life that as long as I walk this earth, I will walk it at your side."
"That is all that I can ask," Legolas answered, touched by the reaffirmation of that oath and sensing the conviction behind it. Perhaps even more than when she had returned to Eden Ardhon before their marriage.
"Now," Melia smiled as she glanced at Gimli and then at Felamin and Hadar, "I want to introduce you both to my family and now yours as well."
"It would be my pleasure," Legolas smiled happily, kissing her lightly on the lips, "and after a visit shall we go home?"
Melia's eyes held his and nodded, "where you are, I am home."
*************
Legolas, Melia and Gimli lingered but a week in the Sunlands in which time the Lord of Eden Ardhon was introduced to his wife's family who received the latest addition with the warmth and awe that could only be given to member of the First Born. The villagers of Bors looked upon him with some measure of anticipation, their knowledge of him as a person understandably clouded by what they knew of the First Born and his notorious reputation in Haradwraith. Legolas regretted it but accepted this was part of the penance he would have to pay for what he had done as the butcher of Axinar.
Despite the familiarity of returning to Melia, both husband and wife found that each had changed in the nine months that they had been apart. Though the changes in character were subtle, the week in the Sunlands where they were just themselves instead of the lord and lady of Eden Ardhon had been very liberating. It almost felt as if they were courting again as they revisited their feelings for each other without the complication of the world they had left behind. It had been a tender exploration of love making and reveling in the simple joy in being in each other's presence again. Legolas was also pleased to visit some of the places in Melia's youth since she knew all about the lands of his birth and he wished the same familiarity with her past.
Gimli was a favorite among the Bors who had never seen a dwarf in their lives and his interest in their culture, particularly in the crafts, drew the attention of many village elders. He spent much of his time in deep discussions with craftsmen about their skills and after awhile, Legolas had to wonder who had come out of the exchange more rewarded. Judging by the wealth of knowledge that was shared among the dwarfs and his companions, it was difficult to say. Nevertheless, a short visit was as best as they could afford since Legolas intended to make good his promise to Aragorn.
When he left Haradwraith forever, he wanted it to be in the company of his friends and the woman he loved.
After a tearful farewell with Melia's family, particularly with Felamin and Hadar, they arrived in Mahazar to find that the western army was more than ready to depart. Erchirion had arrived in Haradwraith weeks before and during that time the second son of Imrahil's line had worked closely with his father and his king to ensure the smooth beginning of his governorship when the western army finally set out for home. With him, Erchirion had brought his new bride, Tarien of Anorien, having wed the lady in a hasty ceremony following to the surprise news of his appointment. Legolas had met Erchirion before this occasion and found Aragorn's choice to be a sound one. Certainly Imrahil was filled with pride at the selection.
In the meantime however, Melia was reunited with her beloved cousin Kirin. Despite the fact that Kirin was now High Chieftain, the two cousins behaved as if they were young children once more and for the duration of their stay in Mahazar, there were days when Melia and Kirin were seldom apart. Thus when it was time for the conquering armies to depart, the parting was difficult for Melia most of all. Kirin had helped her in her youth to become the woman she was in her adulthood and had brought a swift end to the war by his willingness to align himself with the Reunified Kingdom and its allies.
"I shall miss you," Melia said to Kirin who was returning to the Sunlands now that affairs were concluded in Mahazar.
Kirin looked upon her face with a smile, reminding Melia so much of her father that she was almost driven to tears, "I shall miss you cousin," he said with equal emotion.
"My life would not have been as it was if it were not for you," Melia replied, having waited for many years to thank him for his kindness and his aid in her youth. "You grew up as I imagined you would, into a great man. I always knew you had strength in you Kirin."
"You and your father were the only ones," the High Chieftain answered, forcing himself to maintain his composure because it would not do for his men to see his emotions exposed in such a way. "I am glad that you have happiness in the west Melia. You have found someone who cherishes you, whom I believe will never break your heart. That is more than most people acquire in a lifetime. Be happy and always know that your family will welcome you home."
Melia blinked her tears and embraced Kirin hard, unaware that his words and her time in the Sunlands had reconciled many things for her. She felt restored somehow and many of the regrets she carried with her during the years had found resolution at last. "And I will be glad to know that I am not alone, that I have family."
She kissed him gently on the cheek before he drew her to him in a warm embrace. It was as if the years had never been and Melia was grateful that everything she had hoped for Kirin had come to pass. He was the man he wanted to be and though she regretted the deaths that placed him in the seat of power, she had always known he would be equal to it. It had given her a great sense of satisfaction to know that under Kirin's leadership, the Bors were able to forge a lasting alliance with Ruling Council and perhaps may one day take its place as one of its members.
"However," Kirin said upon parting from her, "since it appears we are entering a new peace, I may follow Hezare's lead and come for a visit. Once I have spent some time at home, I may be inclined to see Eden Ardhon for myself."
"You will be most welcome," Melia declared, thrilled by the prospect even if she knew it could be many years before she saw him again. "If you are able, I would like you to bring Aunt Filamen with you as well."
"I think you might see her sooner than you think," Kirin smiled. "Our aunt is something of a wandering spirit and now that our women are less restricted, she may call upon you sooner rather than later."
"I shall look forward to it then," Melia answered and hugged him again.
And with that, Kirin, High Chieftain of the Bors, led his army back to the Sunlands and began the exodus that would see the western army departing Haradwraith bound for the west
And home.
************
Lothiriel had a great deal of difficulty trying to acquaint herself with the fact that she had been married for almost a year.
Unfortunately, it was a fact difficult to deny now that she was presiding over the celebration of the Spring Foaling. For the people of the Mark whose primary means of support were the breeding of horse for the rest of Middle earth, the festival was an important cultural event. All communities across Rohan celebrated the Foaling in their own way and it was one of the most anticipated occasions of the year. The festival, aptly named because it was the celebration of a successful breeding year, saw the gathering of hundreds in Edoras because nowhere was the Foaling celebrated with as much grandeur than within the capital of the Rohirrim world.
For the festival, Edoras had transformed its fortress like appearance into a city of colour and vibrant energy. Streets were decorated with the efforts of artisans who carved and crafted their bests for display on this day. It was difficult to imagine that the sometimes sedate city come to life in such spectacular bloom. Lothiriel could not deny that she was swept in the atmosphere of colourful streamers, garlands and crafts decorating the buildings and streets. There were entertainers and performers, fire-eaters and jugglers. A short time ago she had passed a bard who were telling a group of mesmerized children the thrilling story of Felarof, the great horse that bore Eorl into battle and was indirectly responsible for the Steward Cirion rewarding Eol with the lands that were now Rohan.
Lothiriel had opened the festival by conducting the customary tribute to the Valar lord, Bema or Orome, as he was known to the elves. It was Bema who had brought from the west, the wild steeds that were ancestors to the Mearas. In accordance with tradition, the horse masters of Meduseld would then present to the people, the new spring foals borne of that noble line. The Mearas, who were capable of understanding the speech of men, had sworn allegiance to the King of the Mark and would only allow themselves to be ridden by him or his sons. This year, the breeding for these wonderful creatures had been particularly bountiful and was everyone was suitably impressed by the small stable of foals with their coats of snow white, silver and jet, gleaming in the afternoon sun.
The festival had almost been abandoned this year because it was customarily the king of the Mark who presided over the ceremony and with the war in the eastern realms, there was some who questioned the appropriateness of the event at such a time. However, Lothiriel had insisted that it continue because she knew that was what Eomer would have wished. He would not want his people gripped in melancholy until his return. Eomer would wish them to continue on with their lives and part of it was the festival of the Spring Foaling. The queen of the Mark would stand in his stead and conduct it herself, she had said bravely to the court of Meduseld, hiding her anxiety in order to win Rohan its festival. It had taken a long time for Lothiriel to feel confident enough to exert her authority as queen and though it was only a minor issue, she was rather proud of herself for it. Particularly when she saw how much the people of Edoras was enjoying the day.
For Lothiriel, the past year was wrought with its own trials; the least of it was becoming queen. When she was younger, she had always assumed that when marriage came, it would be to a nobleman and her aspirations in terms of title or rank did not extend past becoming mistress of her own house. However, she had never dreamed that when she did wed, it would mean assuming the mantle of queen to a country and particularly one as large and impressive as Rohan. Despite the months spent in Riddermark prior to her marriage, Lothiriel knew that she had a limited knowledge of Rohan and it people being cloistered in the walls of the Golden Hall.
It was only after her marriage, when Eomer was called away to the east that Lothiriel began to explore the land and acquaint herself with the people who saw her as queen. It had been difficult to make this study without Eomer and each new discovery was met with a pang of sadness because he was not here to hear of it. However, she forced herself to learn and had driven Reonel, the captain of the guard almost mad with annoyance by her desire to ride out into the villages, to meet the people of Rohan, to see what could be done as queen to ease the burdens of their lives. Edoras had been without a queen since the death of Theoden's wife and while Eowyn had played the part in some degree, it was not the same as being able to claim the title as one's own.
Fortunately, Lothiriel had now reason to cheer because the war in the east had ended and her brother Erchirion had left for Haradwraith many weeks ago to assume the title of governor for the conquered country. It was expected that his arrival would send the western army home for Lothiriel, the day of that arrival seemed endless by her reckoning. She had but spent a night with Eomer before he had left to join King Elessar and that had left her to spend the first year of their married life alone. She bore no resentment for this but she worried not only for her king but also for her father, who was fighting yet another war.
Equally taxing during the past year was her guilt regarding the use of magic during the Dunlending assault upon Edoras. Using her abilities to protect the enemy who had broken through the hiding place of the women and children during the battle, Lothiriel had unwittingly killed the men who would have surely done far worse had they been allowed the opportunity. It was the first time Lothiriel had truly set out to kill anyone and though she was thinking only of protecting herself and the women and children with her, it did not change the outcome. When the deed was done, Lothiriel had been left with the realisation that she had deliberately set out to take a life. It was a sobering realisation that made her wary of using her powers for fear she might harm someone if anything were to go wrong.
"We should be retiring to the hall soon," Lothiriel heard Odrade's voice in her ear.
Odrade was wife to wife to Carleon, the Third Marshall of the Mark who was in the east with the rest of the western army. Although Odrade had been acerbic to say the least during their first encounter, the two women had somehow forged a deep friendship in the past year and Lothiriel had invited Odrade to stay at the Golden Hall until their husbands' return. That had been almost six months ago and while the news from abroad told them that their time together was dwindling, Lothiriel was grateful for the companionship.
"Oh," Lothiriel said as her distractive thoughts faded away.
"The feast will not begin until you return to the Golden Hall," Odrade explained, having attended many festivals of the Spring Foaling in her lifetime and was more than capable of guiding the queen through the rituals required.
"I hate presiding over this feast," Lothiriel grumbled as she straightened up in queen's seat perched upon a dais set out for the nobles as they watched the entertainers and performers. "This is Eomer's duty, not mine."
Odrade smiled to herself, becoming more than accustomed to these complaints after the past year. Lothiriel would profess her unhappiness and then carry exactly what was required of her and some times more than she was expected. Whether or not the young woman knew it, her trips to visit the folk of Rohan, much to the consternation of Reonel, had made her beloved among the Rohirrim people.
"You are queen," Odrade said patiently, "it is expected of you."
"I was under the impression that the only thing a queen is expected to do is to provide an heir," Lothiriel frowned, sweeping her gaze over the crowds of people watching the entertainments. She hated to leave all this colour in order to play host for the dining pleasure of Rohan's aristocracy in the Golden Hall.
"Well I am certain that when he returns, you will be happy to make that achievement by numerous attempts," Odrade remarked, a wicked gleam in her eye.
"You have the mind of tavern wench," Lothiriel replied with a smile of equal mischief.
"No, I have been without a husband for a year," the lady retorted in good measure.
"Oh well," Lothiriel sighed realising she had a duty to perform and delaying the inevitable would avail her nothing, "I suppose it is better get this over and one with"
The queen prepared to rise from her seat when suddenly she caught sight of Reonel fighting his way through the crowd. The captain of the guard was navigating swiftly through the bodies between himself and the dais. His expression was one of excitement but everyone's attention was still fixed upon the troop of acrobats presently astonishing the crowd with their impressive skills and paid little attention to his attempts to get by them swiftly. Lothiriel watched him for a moment as he reached the sentries guarding the queen's viewing gallery.
"Something is happening," Lothiriel whispered to Odrade, calling the lady's attention to Reonel's approach.
As if in answer to that statement, she heard the Great Horn of Helm Hammerhand that had been transported from Helm's Deep following the great battle fought there, echoing through the air. Eomer had ordered it built into Edoras, using it as a symbol of connection between his rule as the third line of kings and those who had come before him. The Horn ended the celebration abruptly. Its sound swept through the crowds, through the streets and reached every corner of the Rohirrim capital. It stirred the heart of all who heard it, reminding them of their past, their present and in some way even their future. Within seconds, the entire city of Edoras was as silent as grave and no one spoke, mesmerized by the powerful song of the great horn.
When the horn ceased it blaring, another voice cried out, slicing through the quiet. It came from the walls of the city, from a guard occupying the watchtower.
"The king returns!"
The news was met with a gamut of emotions, shock being the initial reaction. As the announcement was repeated once more, shock melted away into acceptance and from acceptance there was rejoicing and like the tide rolling into the shore, the wave of happiness at the return of the thing became an explosion of sound that was deafening to those not making it, until all that could be heard was the roar of cheering and clapping.
Lothiriel had to sit down again because the news was almost too much.
He was home. After almost a year alone, he was home.
She almost wept from the joy of it. Instead, she managed to keep her wits about her and issued orders to Odrade to go to the Golden Hall, to tell Glyneth that the king was home and that preparations should be made for his arrival immediately. Odrade nodded mutely and departed, leaving Lothiriel to remain where she was. She saw Reonel organizing the guards, having them dismiss the entertainers for the moment and taking charge of the crowd to ensure that when the king entered the city, he would have a clear path to the dais and then to the Golden hall.
Lothiriel wanted to run through the crowds, to greet Eomer at the gates of the city but she remained where she was, her knuckles digging into the wooden arms of her chair as she waited for the Rohirrim army to enter Edoras. She felt it terribly unfair that protocol and decorum required for her to show some semblance of propriety by remaining here when all she wanted to do was reach Eomer and fling herself into his arms. She had not felt this hungry yearning to see him since the first few months of their marriage, when the aching for him after he had departed into the east was almost unbearable. Fortunately, time had a way of eroding the edge of such acute need and the year had seen her longing recede into something almost manageable.
Until now.
All that seemed to fade away as she heard the crowds cheering loudly. While she could not see him yet, she could hear the reaction of Edoras' folk as their king and his company passed through the gates. She could imagine their happiness as he progressed up the streets towards the Golden Hall, a procession of warriors riding behind him as the street was flanked with cheering onlookers. The sound grew louder with people waiting in anticipation for the procession to pass them. Lothiriel craned her neck to see past the bodies and could only catch sight of a wisp of color that may have been the Rohirrim banner
There was a saying that the best things come to those who await in the longest and for Lothiriel, did certainly felt true because when she saw Eomer appear before her at last, she thought she might die from the sheer happiness of seeing him. Like the rest of the warriors who had made that long journey to the east and had now returned at his side, Eomer looked well but unmistakably in need of rest. His skin was brown from the heat of the Haradrim climate, his hair bleached under the hot sun. His eyes however, found hers quickly and though their first meeting was devoid of the privacy he would have desired, Lothiriel had no doubt how happy he was to see her.
Lothiriel stood up when Eomer dismounted his horse, unable to remain seated anymore. She saw Odrade next to her exchanging and affection look with her husband, Carleon who had climbed out of the saddle after Eomer. The king looked at his people, a smile stealing across his face as he waved at them. However, it was clear that his mind was upon only one thing. Striding forward, he closed the distance between himself and the dais in a number of long steps.
"My lord," she said upon reaching him, her voice shaking with emotion. Around them, the crowd had fallen silent, their breaths held in anticipation of this reunion.
Eomer removed his helmet with both hands before running his fingers through his unruly hair. He wished that he were washed and cleaned because she seemed too pristine to be marred by the dirt on his clothes and the dust that followed them from Haradwraith. He saw the emotion in her eyes and stared back at her with the same sentiments. He had not realised until now how much he had missed her, how dear she was to him. During the war, she was the image he clung to when he had been wounded in battle and when things were at their worst, knowing that she was here waiting for him to return had given him the will to continue.
"You look well," he said with a smile, mildly aware of the eyes upon them. Unlike Lothiriel, Eomer cared little for propriety. "I am glad I did not miss the festival."
"As am I," she answered reaching for his hand.
For Eomer, touching her hand was not quite good enough for him and when it was within the palm of his gauntlet, the king of the Mark drew his lady to him in one swift movement. He embraced her wholly as his mouth claimed hers in a bruising kiss. Around them both, the crowd cheer at this unabashed show of affection between their king and queen but neither Lothiriel nor Eomer was aware of it. Both were to lost in the kiss to note that their exchange was being received with such delight. Lothiriel felt her head swim because she had forgotten how wonderful it was to kiss him, to feel his lips and his body pressed against hers. He smelled of leather and sweat, a musk filed aromas that seared itself into her mind and released the tears of joy she had been attempting to suppress.
"What is this?" He asked with concern when he saw the moisture running down her cheeks after they parted. His finger captured a single tear as it rolled down her skin.
"It is nothing," Lothiriel answered, her voice still choked with emotion. "I am so happy you are home. I have thought of you every day since you have been away. Seeing you here is almost like a dream."
"I am no dream," Eomer said firmly, holding her hand in his and kissing her forehead. "I am your husband and I am home. I promise you we will make up for lost time."
"I have no doubt of that," Lothiriel answered and then asked further, "my father, is he well?"
"He is well," Eomer replied, remembering his last meeting with Imrahil shortly before they had parted company, he for Dol Amroth and Eomer for Rohan. "He wishes us to visit soon. I think that after a bit of rest, we will be able to accommodate him."
Lothiriel's smile illuminated her face and lit her eyes with pleasure, "I should like that my lord. In the meantime however, you need to be rested. Shall I call an end to feast?"
"Oh course not," Eomer straightened up and stared at her with a happy grin, "this is the festival of the Spring Foaling. The feast is a celebration of life and there can be no better tribute for our homecoming than sharing this day with our people."
And with that Lothiriel was happy to agree.
************
The past year for the Evenstar had been one of turbulence.
Having lost her husband to the Desert Campaigns of Haradwraith, the queen of the Reunified Kingdom found herself host to a number of guests in the wake of the attacks that had assailed the western lands of Middle earth. From Eowyn of Ithilien to the elves of Eden Ardhon, Arwen had never thought the palace in which she resided with Aragorn could be so small. However, the chaos of so many in that limited place were something she had become accustomed to over time and to some extent enjoyed. It reminded her a little of Imladris when Elrond had been its master. In better days the last homely house was often home to many visitors and though Elrond was sometimes inclined to lock himself in his study and not emerge for the sake of his sanity, Arwen was certain he enjoyed the activity.
However, with the war's end all that chaos had dwindled away into nothingness. Eowyn had been the first to depart. The former shield maiden of Rohan and the Lady of Ithilien was never happy unless she was mistress of her own home. It was even more true now that her son was born after a rather trying delivery. Nevertheless Eowyn laboured through it as she did most things, without complaint and in usual good humour. Though how much good humour she had managed to display when attempting to force something out of her body the size of melon through an opening so small was problematic at best.
Eowyn had waited until her strength had returned before thanking Arwen for her hospitality and setting off with a small entourage of guards chosen by Captain Darond to protect her during the journey. Normally, this would be a redundant gesture as Eowyn had proven quite clearly that she was more than capable of fending for herself. However, she had surprised Arwen by accepting the company of guards and confessed that it was because her son's safety outweighed her need to prove her ability to defend herself.
Arwen had been sad to see Eowyn leave but knew it had to be. Following the departure of the shield maiden and her new son, the elves of Eden Ardhon had also professed a similar desire to return to the woods of Ithilien. During their stay in the White City, some had chosen to leave for the Undying Lands, deciding that they had no wish to remain in a world as cruel as the one who had seen the ravaging of their colony. However, a large portion remained and for a time, Arwen enjoyed the company of other elves, reminding her of her youth in Imlardis and Lothlorien When the decision was made to leave, word had been sent to Aglarond for assistance. Apparently, a number of the constructions in Eden Ardhon were the product of Gimli's ingenuity and the elves wished those constructs to be rebuilt as a symbol of Eden Ardhon's ability to endure.
With the departure of the elves, Arwen's duties had come to an end and she had to confess missing her guests deeply. It was difficult to become accustomed to the silence after Melia's brooding, Eowyn's temperamental pregnancy and the elves moving silently about but still managing to create a kind of chaos by their presence. She missed them all and supposed that it was always going to be an inevitability that she found herself in this place. Arwen also realised that she missed them so much because she knew that whilst they were here, she was too busy to remember how much she longed for Aragorn.
Now that they were gone, that was nothing left for her but to wait until his eventual return.
She supposed that she was more fortunate than most because the war had ended with Aragorn surviving it unscathed. He would be coming home as soon as matters were put in order in Haradwraith and for Arwen that day could not come soon enough. She had never realised how empty the White Tower could be without him and while Eldarion was her one consolation in all this, she felt incomplete without her beloved Estel.
Arwen languished in the limbo of waiting, aware that the day of Aragorn's return was drawing closer after Erchirion of Dol Amroth had set out for Far Harad. With his wife the Lady Tarien, whom Arwen found to be pleasant enough though rather sad for some inexplicable reason, the second son of Imrahil had been honoured at the title given to him and even more so because he would the first to govern an eastern land. Arwen knew that once Erchirion had assumed his duties in Haradwraith, Aragorn and the western army would finally begin the journey home.
The days stretched into weeks and inevitably the weeks became months. Arwen had begin to think that she would be unable to endure this endless waiting without going quite mad until news reached her that the king returned at last to the White City. His arrival into the city would spark nothing less than a celebration in the streets and she had no wish to see their reunion take place before the eyes of all their people. This demanded privacy and Arwen was determined to have it. Instead of waiting his arrival in Minas Tirith, Arwen took her horse and rode out to meet him instead.
*************
Aragorn had thought seeing the White City in the distance was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. That was until he saw Arwen riding towards him.
It had been a long journey with many of their allies having broken away to return to their respective lands. Eomer, Gimli and the Rohirrim had taken the road to Rohan and Faramir had sent the armies of Ithilien to the Fortress of the Eastern Eye. The elves of Lorien and Eryn Lasgalen, led by Haldir had departed before reaching the White City, while Legolas and Melia had returned to Eden Ardhon. It was agreed that once they had time to rest and attend to their own realms respectively, they would gather in the White City and celebrate their victory in true spirit of the occasion.
"Undomiel," Aragorn declared when he dismounted his horse and met her upon the south road leading into Minas Tirith. Flanking their path home was the Anduin and like everything he had seen since returning to Gondor, it had replenished him considerably to see the great river. However, no tonic could infuse his spirit with as much joy as seeing the woman before him.
"I am sorry," Arwen apologised as she hurried into his arms, "I could not wait to see you."
Aragorn did not answer because the embrace and the kiss he pressed against her lips was response enough. He did not care that his army was watching the reunion, did not care that a king should be the paragon of propriety. When it came to his beloved Undomiel, there were no rules, only emotions and a blind subservience to his passion for her. Aragorn took greedy breaths of her scent, savoured the feel of her body against him and almost wept at how good it felt to be in her presence once again. After so long apart, the desert he had crossed to reach her had almost seemed endless but it was a journey he would take as many times as necessary if this was his reward.
"I do not care, I am glad you are here," Aragorn said when they finally met each other's eyes. "I would take any minute alone with you than during the ceremony that will undoubtedly take place when I return to the city. It has been too long since I held your face in my eyes and I am happy that we can savour this moment for ourselves."
"As am I," Arwen smiled at him, her sapphire eyes glistening with tears and saw that while he was too much of a man to show his emotions in a similar display, his eyes betrayed the depths of his joy at being home again. "You have brought peace to Gondor and its allies Estel, as I always knew you would. Middle earth is embarking upon a road it has never known before, a road that will herald a new age of peace."
Aragorn did not know whether or not the war in the desert had delivered the peace she claimed but there was a noticeable hint of hope in the air since their departure from Haradwraith. For Aragorn, it was enough that the seeds of a brighter future had been planted in the eastern lands. He did not delude himself in thinking that there were no more wars ahead of him but at least for a while, Gondor would know peace.
"I would fight a thousand wars if it means coming home to you Undomiel," he said softly. "The age of kings can be left to my heirs, my desire for peace is so that I will never be parted from you again."
Arwen embraced her king once more and while she knew that statement was not entirely true, she relished the sentiment behind him.
"Come Estel," Arwen said looking at him, "let us go home."
Aragorn grinned and replied, "try and keep me away."
***********
It was difficult to believe that less than a year ago, the fortress of the Eastern Eye was almost in danger of crumbling to the ground.
Looking upon it now, Faramir could see the new sections of wall that had been rebuilt in the wake of the attack by the combined forces of the Easterling Confederacy. He could see the fresh mortar sealing cracks in walls that had not succumbed to the relentless assault by the mumakils and some parts that were constructed out of new bricks entirely. The fortress was a patchwork of old and new brick, distinguished because weathering and grime had yet to saturate the stone. However, despite the cosmetic flaws, Faramir was glad to see his home of the past two years restored in part to its former glory.
He had arrived in Minas Tirith to learn that Eowyn had returned home shortly after the news of the war's end had reached her. She was one of many who had departed the White City following that news. He had asked her to stay in Minas Tirith fearing her safety after the assault upon the Eastern Eye had almost killed her and their baby. However with conclusion of the war, Faramir surmised that Eowyn saw no reason to remain in Gondor now that there was no longer a threat to Ithilien by the Confederacy. As much as his wife loved spending time with the Evenstar, she was much too wilful and independent to remain a guest in someone else's home when she had her own waiting for her.
Eowyn was not the only one to depart Minas Tirith following the news of their victory at Haradwraith. The elves led by Aloin, one of Legolas' trusted march wardens, had elected to return to the woods of South Ithilien, to restore the colony of Eden Ardhon now that it was no longer under threat from Easterling or Haradrim invaders. A small handful of Ithilien's elves had elected to make the crossing to the Undying Lands but the large majority would not be chased away by the villains who had caused such destruction to their fledgling community. Faramir was grateful of this because he had become accustomed to his elven neighbours and felt that they added to land of Ithilien by their presence.
Dawn was freshly broken when Faramir entered the fortress. In truth, he had chosen this hour for his return because he had no wish to deal with the fanfare that would ripple through the common folk residing in the fortress at his arrival. He wanted no ceremony to mark his return for Faramir was not one who tolerated a great deal of attention. He supposed it had to do with his youth where he tried to avoid Denethor's gaze by remaining as anonymous and then later as a Ranger, where it was necessary to blend into the background to go about unnoticed.
Slipping quietly into wing of the fortress that was allocated as his personal residence, Faramir walked through the quiet halls taking in the sensation of being home again. He ran his fingers along the hard stone; pausing briefly at the hallway to observe the painting of Henneth Annun he liked so much before resuming his journey towards his bedchamber. It was still dark within the corridors and not many were about except for a handful of household staff whose duties required an early start. He somehow managed to avoid them all as he reached the door leading into the suite of rooms belonging to the Prince of Ithilien and his lady.
Stealing into the room with the skill possessed only by Rangers or elves, Faramir was greeted with the soft illumination of candles burning in the lamps throughout the suite. The rooms was bathed with an amber glow and he delved deeper saw Eowyn on their bed, sleeping fitfully against the softness of quilts and mattresses. For a moment, he just stared at her, revelling in the sight of her golden hair framing her face. There were dark circles beneath her eyes that gave him concern for it was a sure sign of exhaustion. She gave no indication of being aware of his presence, which was a testament to her weariness. His wife was as alert as any battle-hardened warrior. Only exhaustion could allow her to permit anyone to catch her unawares.
He was about to take a step forward when a small sound from the corner of the room halted his advance. Turning slowly to the direction it had come, Faramir's breath caught as he remembered his family no longer comprised of himself and his wife. In his happiness to see Eowyn, he had forgotten the new life that had come into this world while he had been leagues away fighting the enemy. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Faramir approached the polished wooden crib on Eowyn side of the bed. The sounds repeated, happy chortling noises of an infant who was clearly not asleep like his weary mother.
The babe was very much awake, mesmerized by an odd construct of coloured birds dangling over his crib It seemed to move with the direction of the wind, making it seemed as if the birds were in flight. There were intricate designs upon the toy and Faramir surmised quickly that this was a gift from the elves for it was dainty and fine and looked like something the elves would fashion. Blue eyes followed the movement made, drawing an delighted chortled from the infant who was waving his arms about in excitement. Faramir stood there for a moment, simply staring.
This was his son.
The child turned an unsteady head towards Faramir, sensing his presence. Familiar eyes connected with him across the short distance. Faramir saw his own blue eyes staring back at him but his son's features were an amalgamation of the people he loved. The shape of the face and the fine gold hair was his mother's, but when the infant stared at Faramir trying to decide who this new person was, his brow knotting into a serious expression of scrutiny, Faramir's breath caught because he saw Boromir there too. Suddenly, Faramir had come to understand what emotions had been driving Aragorn when Eldarion was born. One could spend hours simply looking into that face, trying to discern the secrets behind those innocent eyes that saw the world as something new and wonderful.
A set of arms slid around Faramir's waist and he felt Eowyn's body pressing against him from behind as she rested her chin upon his shoulder, sharing the moment with him.
"Is he not beautiful?" she said with pride.
"He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Faramir managed to answer, his voice escaping him with more emotion than he had intended to show.
"On that we agree," Eowyn said breaking away from him. She had awakened to see him standing before the crib, thinking for a moment that she was dreaming but when she saw Faramir's eyes misting with emotion, she knew that he was no dream. Dreams did not weep. Eowyn leaned over and reached into the crib, sweeping her son into her arms before turning around to present him to his father.
The child upon recognising the familiar scent of his mother, bounced happily in her grip as Eowyn drifted to her husband's side. "This is your son, Boromir."
Faramir took the child from her gingerly, uncertain if he had handled anything as precious in his life. The babe stared at him critically and once again, Faramir was struck by the resemblance of his expression to Boromir's frown whenever something suited him ill. Faramir planted a gentle kiss on his forehead and noted that his son's scent was a mixture of newborn infant, milk and his mother. It was intoxicating.
"I should have been here with you," he said to Eowyn, wishing more than anything that he could have been here after seeing his son for the first time.
"You are here now," Eowyn leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss, careful of the babe between them.
"I have missed you beyond my ability to describe," Faramir replied in a heartfelt confession. "There was not a day that passed where you not in my thoughts. I wish I could have been here with you to see our son into the world. I cannot express my regret that I could not share the occasion with you."
Eowyn took the babe from his arms and settled the infant into his crib once more, her heart pounding with as much emotion as Faramir was feeling. Once little Boromir was settled in his bed, Eowyn turned to her husband.
"I wish you could have been there," she said unable to deny her feelings on that matter. She took his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. "However, it matters little because the event is behind us and we have our whole lives ahead of us."
"You are far wiser than I wife," Faramir said drawing her to him.
"That goes without saying," Eowyn laughed and allowed her husband to take her into his embrace.
There was so much to look forward, so much promise in the breaking dawn outside their window. As she felt his arms around him, Eowyn knew that today would mark the beginning of the future they intended to share together.
A future with their son.
***********
Eden Ardhon endured.
The colony was much devastated by the attacks of fire, the rampage of the mumakils and the Easterlings alike but the elven community still remained.. It endured even if it was left somewhat tarnished from its battles. Despite the violence that had almost destroyed it, Eden Ardhon was no less beautiful to the ones who had put heart and soul into its construction or the Prince who had first conceived the idea of making a home for the elves in these glorious woods. Yavanna had blessed the forest with her gifts and though many of the trees still bore the scars of flame, the wood had survived and thrived in the wake of the recent calamity. They had suffered the ravages of war with an almost defiant spirit and when the elves returned to Eden Ardhon, they found the forest bearing its injuries with a blooming passion for life that would not be denied.
Many of the buildings were still standing but an equal number had also been destroyed. Fortunately, they had returned to find that Aloin, supervising the business of rebuilding the colony. The work was being undertaken with a fierce passion by all the elves whom were determined to show that it would take more than the Easterling Confederacy to break their spirit. Nor were they alone in this effort. Aware of the great love that existed between their own lord and the Prince of Mirkwood, the dwarves of Aglarond had been more than willing to volunteer their assistance. Legolas had smiled, remembering the great pride that crossed over the Gimli's face when he learnt of this gesture by his people. He had almost been tempted to remain behind and helped with the construction if Legolas had not ordered him to see his lady at the Glittering Caves first.
"There is much work ahead," Legolas stated as he and Melia surveyed the damage.
"True," Melia agreed, forcing away the memories of fire and cruelty that had revisited her repeatedly since returning to Eden Ardhon. However, she forced it away because it was time to move on, time to get on with the business of living instead of becoming mired in memories of darkness that served no purpose than drain a mending soul. There would be a day when her thoughts of Anna would not entirely be mired in regret. The child deserved better than to live in her heart as a tragic memory. Melia wanted to remember the privilege of knowing Anna, even if it was for a short time.
"Are you alright?" Legolas asked, seeing the distant gleam in her eye.
"Yes," Melia nodded, grateful for the arm that snaked around her waist and pulled her to his side. "I was just thinking of how glad I am to be home with you.."
"It has been a difficult road Mia," Legolas confessed, thinking of the journey he had taken this past year, the dark places he had found himself and had fortunately, found strength to escape. He was a little more tarnished than he used to be but perhaps the humility resulting from it was not such a bad thing. His opinion of himself and his world had changed. Perhaps he had fallen a little from grace but it did not make him any less, simply more aware that he was allowed his mistakes like any other person. "I wish Nunaur were here."
"He is," Melia said resting her head against his shoulder as she looked at the elves working to rebuild Eden Ardhon. "He exists in your heart and you will carry him with you forever."
"As I will carry you," he answered kissing her forehead gently.
"Do you think of that day Prince?" Melia raised her eyes to his. "The day when I am no longer with you?"
"Yes," Legolas nodded, wondering if she knew just how much he feared the inevitable end of their life together. "However, I have learnt that I cannot change what must be, so I will savour every moment with you that I can and be satisfied that it is enough. I have come to learn of late that it is the now that matters most of all because tomorrow is filled with uncertainties."
She saw the shadow in his eyes, the sadness over what he had been driven to do in Haradwraith and knew that it would be a long time before her Prince could truly feel absolved of his actions. He had brought himself back from the brink but Melia suspected he would always be ashamed of allowing himself to go so near to the edge to begin with.
"You can be certain of one thing," Melia put her hand on his face and made him look at her. "I love you and I will never leave you."
"So you say now," he teased, "I'll probably wake up tomorrow and found that you have fled again. This time to Valinor most likely."
Melia gave him a look and retorted, "you are impossible."
Kissing her once more, Legolas remarked with a smile, "I am not the only one."
THE END
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