The journey over the Mountains of Shadow was easier than it had been so many years past when the Elves had fled from the massacre wrought on them in Ithilien. This time they carried water, food, and other necessities with them, and while the way was treacherous, the promise of what awaited them on the western slopes drove them forward with eager feet.
Nimoë carried Caldarion in a sling that wrapped over her shoulder and held him tight to her hip. He complained lustily, for he was eager to test his knees, which he had recently discovered as a means of locomotion. Nimoë, however, would not set him down, for fear that he would crawl off of a cliff. Indeed, there were cliffs to scale, and at those times, Legolas took the child firmly from his mother. He feared that the squirming infant would jar Nimoë at a dangerous time, possibly sending them both falling. The mere thought of such a thing sent shivers shuddering down his spine.
Every Elf had chosen to make the journey. Although they had lived long years in Núrnelven, none of them had any desire to stay in that desolate place. Indeed, every Elf said that, while they would visit Ithilien, and possibly their previous homes, what they wanted most was to sail into the West. What they could not bear to part with, they carried on their backs, and everything else had been left behind, with little sorrow.
As Nimoë climbed to the heights of the Mountains of Shadow, clambering over sharp outcroppings and splintered stone, she thought back on her memories of Ithilien. Although it had been a happy place, there had always been the threat of violence. Indeed, there was no place in her memory that was free from such a threat. With all her heart she longed for a respite. Perhaps, just perhaps, that was what she would find when they left the shores of Middle Earth and sailed West.
A hush came over those Elves in the lead and Nimoë looked up to see what was happening. They had reached the pinnacle and the Elves looked down at what had once been their home. A sound of soft weeping reached Nimoë's ears, and she steeled herself for what was coming.
With a few more minutes of effort, she joined the group at the crest of the peaks. Ithilien lay spread beneath her, blackened stumps dotting the earth like a pox. Her heart caught in her throat and her arm tightened about her son, holding him close to reassure herself that he was still there.
There was a shuffle of feet to her left and then Legolas was at her side, pulling her close against him, whispering, "It is an ill thing to set eyes upon, but can you see the new growth already taking hold? This land will recover, as we will."
"But, my father…"
Before she could finish the thought, the memory of his smiling face and shining eyes swept over her with such force that she was overwhelmed. It had been years since she had truly faced the reality of his death, but with the killing fields spread out before her, the horror he must have faced came racing back, stealing her breath.
Nimoë closed her eyes to shut out the vision, turned and burrowed her face into Legolas' chest. For a moment they remained so, taking comfort from each other, then Caldarion began to feel neglected, so he grabbed a handful of Nimoë's hair and yanked hard upon it. With a yelp, she turned to defend herself, detaching the chubby little fists, and allowing rueful laughter to pierce through the haze of tears that had formed in her eyes.
"Little One," said Legolas, with a stern tone, "If you injure your mother, you will answer to me."
"Legolas, he is only a baby! He knows not what he does."
"I know it," he replied, smiling down at her, "but he must learn quickly. I won't allow any harm to come to you."
"I believe I can defend myself from an infant, dear heart."
Chastised, Legolas leaned forward to place a kiss on her upturned lips, and ruffle Caldarion's tousled hair. "Forgive me. I am afraid that I am less than rational when it comes to you."
"And I love you the more dearly for it." She glanced about her and saw that the last stragglers were arriving. Raven and Gilmin stood with Tinunél on the far outskirts of the company and the Dwarf rested his hand comfortingly on the Elf Healer's arm while silent tears rolled down her face. Nimoë drew in a shaking breath. "Mother. I must go, Legolas. How she must suffer."
The Elf Prince squeezed her arm, then turned to see to the rest of the company. Nimoë stepped cautiously over the uneven ground, moving between the milling bodies of her friends and companions. As she drew near, Gilmin saw her approaching and stepped back from Tinunél, saying, "Here is one who can comfort you better than I."
Nimoë stepped to her mother's side, wrapping her free arm about her, "I miss him, too, Mother, but he would not want us to grieve overmuch."
Tinunél's voice came out tight with restrained sobs, "He was my life, Nimoë. I had been able to hide that part of my life away, but now…" She turned to face the pale-haired woman who had been as a daughter to her, "You are my reason to go on, child. You and your son. Without you, I would have soon joined Hanadir in the Halls of Mandos. Even now I feel the ice of loss creeping through my veins."
"Mother, you mustn't say such things," Nimoë pleaded. "It frightens me. I have already lost two mothers and three fathers. Please, please don't make me lose another."
Before Tinunél could respond, Caldarion reached his small arms out towards her and very clearly said, "Gama!"
The two women stared at each other, mouths open in surprise. "Caldarion, did you say Grandma?" asked Nimoë, her voice soft with awe.
"Gama!"
"My name," murmured Tinunél. "His first word is my name…" Color flushed through her ashen cheeks, pulsing pink and rose. A sparkle flashed in her eyes and she reached out to pull the boy from the sling. "Yes, love. I am your grandma." She looked up at Nimoë then, addressing the two together. "I will never leave you."
The company rested for half of an hour, allowing them time to experience their emotions fully before pressing onward, for all had lost loved ones and friends in the flight from Ithilien. The descent would be treacherous, and it would not do to be distracted. Many of the Elves carried ropes with them, and before moving down the steep decline, every person was tied together, in twenty small groups.
Legolas approached Nimoë, to take Caldarion under his wing, but she refused. "I would feel safer holding him myself, and you on the rope above us. He cannot get out of the sling, I promise, and if anything were to go wrong, I know that you would not let us fall."
Seeing the logic in her reasoning, Legolas agreed, tying himself to the head of the rope, with Nimoë just below. Tinunél and Raven went ahead on the same rope, while Gilmin headed another. When all were tied together for safety, the strongest and most skilled at the head of each rope, Legolas called out in a voice strong enough to be heard by all, "This is a dangerous pass. Move with caution, and not until told to by the person above you. With luck, we will reach Ithilien before nightfall, but I would rather spend another night on the mountain than risk injury to any, so do not hasten. Good luck to you all!"
With that, the twenty sets of Elves began their slow, perilous descent.
Author's Note: It has been forever. I apologize. I have been going nuts. Some of you might remember that I had made an audition tape for two local competitions. I have already completed one of those competitions and I tied for second, which is quite a good result, and I just received word from the more prestigious competition that I am a finalist. That is better than I ever expected. So I have to have a 35 minute recital prepared, by memory, by the middle of June. Needless to say, this may continue to keep me a little bit slow, but hopefully not so slow as I have been. I must admit to having been feeling a little overwhelmed. I have been trying so hard to improve as a writer that I checked out a bunch of books on how to write, and I through reading them, I was getting paranoid that I was not writing well enough. So it has taken me a while to get my nerve back together and just write, darn it, whether it is publishable material or not :-D Please forgive me for my insecurities. I just want to do the best that I can. More will be forthcoming!
