Part 17 – Homecoming

Lothlórien. Home at last.

Ennis gazed ahead at the Golden Wood, still far in the distance, remembering the first time he had approached this place not so very long ago. Since then, his feelings had undergone an alteration more drastic than he would ever have thought possible.

He no longer disliked or feared the elves, nor did he fear or mistrust their magic. These elves were creatures of the light, honorable and worthy of respect. He admired them for their dignity, their integrity and loyalty to their people, even for their playfulness and love of life. No, they were not perfect beings; they could be thoughtless or rude, but he forgave them that. Yes, he had changed. He even had friends among the elves. Now, more than anything, he longed to live amid the beauty and warmth that was Lothlórien. And then, of course, there was Lornarië. How he longed to see her once more!

Ennis glanced around him with a sense of companionship for those with whom he traveled. The Rohirrim had given the elves a number of horses with which to transport their wounded to their homelands, as well as a Rohirrim escort who would ensure the safe return of the horses back to Rohan. Ennis had retained Galadriel's sentient horse, and for the first two days he and Haldir had shared the powerful steed. Still weak from his dual injuries, the Marchwarden had been oddly quiet, yet when he had spoken, he had been less reserved and more likable than ever before. Now Ennis walked beside the horse while Haldir rode with Ferodir, whose badly broken leg was in a splint. Orophin rode with Rúmil, whose wound had been grave enough to warrant some concern.

They had traveled slowly, caring for their wounded along the way while recovering their strength. Despite their losses, spirits were starting to rise, and an occasional laugh could be heard. Now that they had reached Lórien, it was time for the Imladris elves to bid farewell to their Lothlórien kin and continue on. Once more Ennis wished he could speak Elvish as he witnessed a number of farewells in this strange, attractive tongue. He had learned a few phrases, and he intended to learn more. He would have to if he was to stay with Lornarië.

One departing elf smiled and addressed a long sentence to Ennis.

Ennis nodded and replied in what little Elvish he knew, and the elf broke into laughter.

Beside him, he heard Haldir chuckle. "You just wished him good morning. What he said to you was 'may your days be green and golden.' Shall I tell him you wish him the same?"

Ennis grinned sheepishly. "Please do."

xxx

Amarië stood on a high flet at the edge of the border, her bow and quiver on her shoulder as she watched the caravan of elves approach. Even from half a league away she could see them, for since her meeting with the Valar, she had noticed that her eyesight was sharper and her hearing keener. According to Lord Celeborn, she now saw and heard with the senses of an elf; only the shape of her ears betrayed her human blood. Excitement coursed through her as she saw that Haldir was sitting upright and looking healthy. She could see Ennis too, and Haldir's brothers and Ferodir. Valar be praised, they had arrived safely!

For two days now she had taken her place on the Watch; she was the only female to come to the border, though there were many who waited anxiously for word of their loved one. Amarië knew that some of them would soon receive sorrowful news, but she did not know who, nor was it her place to tell them. That would be Haldir's difficult task.

Curbing the impulse to run to him, she stood patiently waiting as they traveled closer, the soft breeze ruffling her hair. She remembered much of what had happened to her and what she had seen at Helm's Deep, and was anxious to discuss it with Haldir and get his reaction. Yet she knew that parts of her experience had faded. For her, the first days after Helm's Deep had been spent recovering her strength. Galadriel and Celeborn had insisted; apparently they had feared for her life since she had been gone so long from her body. Indeed, she had been very weak. She recalled the first moment she had opened her eyes . . .

She had seen golden trees overhead, felt cool air, heard soft voices calling her name. Gradually, she had recognized the two faces. Galadriel and Celeborn leaned over her, their normally serene countenances creased with concern. Can you hear us, they had asked. It had seemed confusing at first. Why was she lying on the ground?

One minute she had been with Manwë and Elbereth, and the next in Lórien? No, wait. Ennis. She had gone to Ennis, watched him tending to Haldir with such caring and compassion. She had studied the blue glow surrounding him, noting that the blue had been finely edged with another color. Red? Or had she imagined that?

Then she had whispered to her brother, and although he had not looked up, his soul had answered. Golden sparks of pure light had flown from him to her, permeating her essence, gifting her with strength. She remembered the strange tingle, the burst of powerful energy that had infused her . . . and then what?

Rising. Everything falling away until her brother and Haldir and even the fortress had seemed tiny. A glowing hand seizing her arm, drawing her upward. Silver bells tinkling, far away, the sound drifting with the spiraling lights and dazzling colors.

"You tarried too long! I feared for you!"

"I am sorry. I did what I had to do."

My daughter, cormamin lindua ele lle. Her father was not angry; the words were spoken tenderly. You did well. You have the heart of a warrior.

Adar, Manwë came to me. And Elbereth.

Now you are immortal, as he is.

I can be with him always.

This is what you planned. I feel such joy for you and him.

What then?

Their hands had parted, and she was hurtling, falling, spinning . . . and then she had opened her eyes and seen the Lord and Lady of Lórien.

"For hours you were gone," they told her. And after ascertaining that she was unharmed, they had also said, "Tell us what happened."

And she had told them everything before the memories slid away.

The elves were closer now. Amarië wondered whether Haldir would sense that she was here, so close to him. Meleth, I am here. She sent out the thought, watching to see if he received it. Joy leaped in her heart when she saw the way his head jerked in her direction, his eyes searching for her among the thick leaf-covered branches. But she knew she was well hidden.

Where are you?

Grinning, Amarië moved to the hole in the flet and quickly descended the hithlain rope ladder. She hurried to the edge of the wood, knowing that he saw her now, for he was nudging the horse to a faster pace, separating from the others. She knew also that he was not fully healed, but, oh, he looked so much better than she had expected!

She ran to him. He slid from the horse, and she saw Ferodir beaming at them from his perch.

And then she was in Haldir's arms, tears streaming down her cheeks as he hugged her close to him, murmuring soft Elvish endearments that she could barely take in. Both of them ignored the amused stares from the approaching elves and the Rohirrim escort.

Finally, and with gentleness, he pulled away, his dark brows lifted as his warm gaze ran over her. "Is this not my tunic you are wearing? Either that, or you have lost a great deal of weight."

"It is yours," she admitted, through her tears. "It smells like you. It was a way to keep you close."

He smoothed his hand over her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear as he smiled down at her. "I was not aware I had such a distinctive odor. Although at this moment, I am certain I do."

"You do need a bath." She caught his hand and kissed it, and held it against her cheek. "And I will see that you get one."

"I will need assistance," he murmured. "I am not quite myself yet."

"I need assistance too," Ferodir complained loudly. "I'm the one with the broken leg."

Haldir glanced up. "I am certain you will have all the assistance you need, my friend. But not from my wife. She will be very much occupied with caring for me."

"Ah, well, perhaps she will welcome me with a kiss."

Amarië sent Ferodir a smile, noting his slight pallor. "Of course I will," she said kindly. "When you are better, and on the cheek."

Ferodir laughed, and even Haldir smiled.

By this time the procession of elves and Rohirrim had caught up with them, and they headed into the Lothlórien Woods. Amarië walked alongside Haldir, then came to a sudden stop. He looked at her. "What is wrong, meleth?"

"Well, officially, I am on Watch," she said reluctantly. "I volunteered, and Lord Celeborn gave his permission. I cannot go with you."

Haldir's brows shot up. "Are you not forgetting something?"

"What is that?"

"I am Marchwarden, and can relieve you of the task. My elves already have their orders. Many are uninjured or are healed of their injuries, and are well able to resume their border duties. So you may come with me, wife. Lothlórien will be guarded, but not by you." As if recognizing the arrogance in his tone, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the finger that held her binding ring. "And," he added, so softly only she could hear him, "I need you to be with me right now."

"I know," she whispered, "and I need you as well."

xxx

During the journey to the Lórien city, Amarië and Ennis made plans to speak together the next morning in private; this day he planned simply to bathe and rest and spend time with Lornarië. She also spoke with Orophin and Rúmil. Both were in good spirits, and though Rúmil's injury had been serious, it had been well tended by elven healers and he was already on the road to recovery.

Despite all they had been through, she heard Haldir's brothers joking softly to each other about Brianna, the pretty maiden who had inspired Rúmil's poems. Orophin wagered that she would be in Rúmil's arms by the end of the day, but Rúmil seemed uncertain. He thought it might happen within three days. He planned to look as pale and frail as possible to win her sympathy. He had also thought of another poem, and Orophin actually allowed him to recite it.

Galadriel and Celeborn met them at the gates, along with Lornarië and many others. Ennis strode straight to Lornarië; they embraced and left together immediately. Amarië knew that her brother intended to stay on at Caras Galadhon if the Lord and Lady permitted. He did not seem to have discovered yet that he was a half-elf, and she was at a loss as to how to tell him or whether she even should.

The Lord and Lady politely thanked the Rohirrim for their services to the Elves and offered them a respite from their travels, but the men from Rohan declined and left at once, leading their horses away with a single elf to guide their return journey to the border.

As for Haldir, he bowed before Galadriel and Celeborn, and proceeded to apprise them of the details and aftermath of the battle, though of course they knew a great deal already. He also had the unhappy duty of listing which elves had been slain. Then he, along with Galadriel and Celeborn, moved to speak to those who stood waiting, silent and anxious, for information about the lovers or mates that had not returned. Silent tears rolled down Amarië's cheeks while she waited some distance away, not wanting to intrude upon the grief of others. Haldir looked drained and pale and tired and very, very sad. It nearly broke her heart to see him so, and to know the deep sorrow he and the others were feeling.

At last that duty was discharged and he came back to her, holding out a hand. "Come," he said, his tone quiet. He said no more, and she understood.

Together, they slowly mounted the spiraling steps that led upward, their arms around each other's waists. They did not speak, and at length they reached the talan which they now shared.

"Your bath has been prepared," Amarië told him as he closed the door. "All you need do is heat it." She turned to look at him, noting the way his gaze had fixed on her, almost drinking her in, as though he had thought never to see her again. She could feel the love flowing between them. "I am so glad you are back," she added, blinking away a tear.

"I know." He came to her and pulled her close, leaning his cheek against her hair. "I have no words right now, Amarië. I only want to bathe and take you in my arms. We will talk later."

She helped him to remove what armor he still wore, followed by his tunics, boots and leggings. When he was naked, she walked around him, studying the great gashes in his back and side, noting that they were closed and well-sealed, but by no means fully healed. Frowning, she traced her fingers around them, very lightly, as though her touch might give him further healing. "Oh, Haldir," she whispered, remembering how close she had come to losing him. "You are so brave, so valiant. And look what they did to you."

"It is nothing," he said, brushing this aside. "I lost a little blood, that is all."

"Haldir," she said steadily, "that is untrue. You know I was there."

He rubbed a hand over his jaw and met her gaze. "Yes," he admitted with a sigh. "And we will speak of it later. Right now I am weary and I reek."

"You do not reek. Clearly you have washed or been washed at some point. But I admit a good scrubbing would not be amiss. Warm the water, and I will tend to you myself."

Ah, this was what he had been dreaming of for days! Haldir smiled and did as he was told, using a common Elvish spell to bring the water's temperature to a comfortable level. He then climbed in and sat down, and heaved a great, contented sigh. The water came up to his waist, and his knees were bent, his hair draping over the edge.

He would not think about the battle or the loss of elven lives. Death was a risk they all took willingly, part of the great cycle of life. Elves could be reborn; they all knew this. Yet somehow, at this moment, that thought brought him small comfort. In time, he knew his sorrow would pass. Amarië was here, he would focus on her.

For the next little while, she lavished him with her attentions, soaping his back, arms and chest, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, massaging the aching muscles in his neck. By the Valar, it felt wonderful! How he loved the feel of her hands sliding over him; already the familiar burn was growing inside him and he did not fight it. One at a time, she bade him to lift a leg while she lathered him, and he did so, lazily watching the glide of her hands over his thighs, knees, calves, and feet. How wonderful to have a wife! And how wonderful to be alive to enjoy it! For so long he had dreamed of this, and now it was a reality. A wife, a life-mate! How long would it be before he grew used to the idea?

Suddenly he noticed that she had paused in her ministrations and was watching him with a tiny curve to her lips. "What of the rest of me?" he asked casually. Surely she had not missed the physical manifestation of his enjoyment in the proceedings.

"Do you refer to your hair?" she asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

His mouth twitched with amusement. He loved it when she teased him like this; she was so lovely, so alluring, so playful and warm.

"Nay," he said, "my hair can wait. My other parts are not so patient."

She sat back on her heels, smiling provocatively as she reached again for the soap. "If I command Lothlórien's Marchwarden to his knees, will he obey me, do you think?"

"I think on this occasion he could be persuaded." Haldir rose, the water sluicing off him as he gripped the sides of the tub to steady himself. He was fully aroused, rock hard and ready, but she took her time, showering his engorged shaft and nether areas with her careful, skillful attention. His muscles quivered and his breath grew ragged as his pleasure began to build. It felt so good, so good . . . too good.

"Enough!" he said, his words bursting out on a sharp exhale. "I will rinse and dry myself. And you, meleth, had better remove that tunic, which happens to be one of my favorites. Look how wet you have gotten it."

Amarië smiled and handed him a drying cloth as he stepped from the tub. "Could we not go slowly? We are in no hurry, are we?"

He cupped her jaw with his hand. "I am not, but my body is." He took a deep breath. "At present, I need to forget what happened. I need you, Amarië. I need you in every way you can imagine. But just at this moment, what I need most is to bury myself in your sweetness. That is a kind of healing that only you can give me."

She leaned up to kiss him on the lips, her blue eyes filled with such love for him that his heart turned over. "Of course I understand, and I am here for you. I will always be here for you. Always."

xxx

Lornarië gazed at Ennis, studying the way his cropped black curls wrapped around his small, perfect ears. She loved him. He was a mortal, but she did not care. Would she give up her immortality to be with him? He had not asked it of her, but if he did? What would she say? And why did she love him so much? Perhaps because he took her seriously; no one had really done that before. When he looked at her, he truly saw her, not as a potential lover, but as a living being with feelings and a soul. Yes, she loved him. Her whole body ached with love for him.

She had made sure he bathed, and they had kissed and intended to make love. He had lain down on the bed, closed his eyes, and suddenly fallen asleep. Was he so very tired? Or was something else at work here? She wondered whether she should go and seek Galadriel's counsel, but then decided to wait awhile and see.

It was while he slept that the song started, the lament for those who had been slain in battle. Lornarië's heart grew heavy as she listened to the singing of her sisters and brethren. Laments always made her sad, not only for those who suffered, but for herself. For so long she had staved off the loneliness with a string of lovers; now, for the first time, she realized what it might mean to have a mate. If only . . .

When Ennis woke, it was so sudden that he startled her. His whole body jerked, and his blue eyes flew open. He looked pale, far paler than when he had arrived.

Concerned, she leaped from her chair. "Ennis, what is it? What is wrong?"

He fixed his gaze on her, an odd kind of wonder dawning in his eyes. Then he sat up quickly and reached for her, holding her face between his hands. "Lornarië! By the Valar, I have had such a dream!"

"A dream," she echoed with bemusement. "What kind of a dream?"

"A dream that was not a dream. It seemed so real!" Ennis sounded excited. "I do not believe it. I cannot. But . . . I must speak to your Lady at once."

Lornarië blinked. "Ennis, the hour is late. I know not if she will be willing to see you now. What is this about?"

He rose to his feet and began to dress, then swiveled to face her, his expression fierce. "If my dream is true, then you and I may have a future. But first, tell me . . . "

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me about elven binding. What is involved?"

"Why do you ask?" she said carefully. Her heart began to thud harder.

"I ask because I want to know." He caught up both of her hands in his and held them firmly with his own. His eyes searched hers. "If I was an elf, or even a half-elf, would you bind yourself to me? Or at least consider it?"

That was the moment she knew. "Ennis," she whispered. "I would bind myself to you whatever you are. I love you. I would give up my immortality to be with you. But you are mortal . . . are you not?"

"I know not what I am, my love. That is why I must see the Lady Galadriel."

Hope surged in Lornarië's heart, a hope for a future for her and Ennis. "Let us go to her then," she said. "Who knows? Perhaps she will even be expecting us."

xxx

"He's going to live," Orophin told Brianna as they walked along. "Rúmil can behave foolishly, I know, but he is a great warrior. He killed more of the enemy than anyone else except, perhaps, Haldir. And myself," he added quickly. "He was one against many, but they all died. Only the last landed a blow, and that was sheer luck. Still, it is a wonder he is alive. It was a terrible wound."

Brianna's lovely eyes filled with tears. "Oh, poor Rúmil! All these months I have been ignoring him. Had I known that he was going into battle, and perhaps to his death—!"

"Well, he did not die," Orophin soothed. "And there is a very good chance that he will fully recover from his injuries. Lord Celeborn treated him earlier, and you know how skilled his healing powers are."

"You are certain it will be safe for me to visit him?" She clasped her hands together at her shapely bosom. "It will not overtire him?"

"It is quite safe," Orophin assured her. "Lord Celeborn said it would be beneficial for him to have a visitor. It will raise his spirits. He is feeling very low. Very, very low."

"All that death," Brianna agreed with a shudder. "Oh, he is so brave!"

Orophin suppressed his desire to point out that he was equally brave. "Aye, Rúmil is extremely brave. I expect there are a great many Lórien maidens eager to comfort him," he added craftily. He saw her pretty mouth set with determination, and knew she would be sure that they did not. Brianna intended to be Rúmil's only female comforter.

They had reached the door to Rúmil's rooms; Orophin knocked gently, then eased open the door. "Rúmil, you have a visitor. Would you be willing to see Brianna?"

"Brianna?" came a weak, pathetic voice. "Of course, brother. Did you warn her? I am not at my best at the moment."

Brianna practically shoved Orophin aside in her anxiety to reach Rúmil's side. "Rúmil, you poor, sweet elf! Orophin told me how brave and noble you were!"

"Well," Orophin remarked, "I will leave you two alone. I see no reason for me to stay." He peeked inside. "No, obviously not. Er, very well, then. I'll be off."

Pleased that he had won yet another wager, he eased the door shut and strode off, listening to the lament of the elves floating on the evening breeze. The song both enhanced and eased his sorrow. He had not lied when he said that Rúmil felt low. They all did. And each of them was coping with it in whatever way worked. He, for instance, was going to look for Cicely. She was the most comforting, restful female he knew, and she would have healing ointments for his jaw. He rather thought he might be in love with Cicely.

xxx

Ferodir lounged back against a mountain of pillows, wallowing in the attentions of three beautiful Lórien ladies. They were all friends of his, all his lovers, and he adored each of them. And they adored him. It was a pleasing arrangement, one that suited him exactly. Unlike Haldir, he had no need of a wife. He was perfectly happy as he was.

He smiled at the nearest maiden, who had perched on the edge of his bed to feed him strawberries. "That's enough, my dear. Why don't you eat the rest yourself?"

She giggled and set the bowl aside, then leaned down to give him a kiss. Another sweet maiden was tickling the toes of his broken leg, while a third curled next to his head, combing the tangles from his freshly washed hair. Who could ask for anything better than this? If one maiden could make him forget the horrors of the battle, then surely three was better?

Yet, despite the feminine trio, his mind kept returning to the battle. Amarië had been there. He had heard her speak to him in his mind. How? And what had she done to take away his pain? It had felt like a heated blanket wrapped around his leg, drawing out the anguish that had beset him. The pain had not returned until much later, when the battle was over, and by then there were elves with healing skills to help him deal with it.

Sooner or later he would discover the answer to the mystery. Meanwhile, he would continue to enjoy his popularity with the Lothlórien female population. He doubted there would ever be a maiden who would so interest him that he would want to devote himself to her and her alone.

However, by the Valar, if she did exist, let her come soon! Because he was getting very tired of waiting.

xxx

Galadriel agreed to see Ennis, but he was told to enter alone. Ennis kissed Lornarië, then turned to face the Lady's sentinels, who stepped aside and allowed him to pass. Inside the interior of her home, the Lady of Light greeted him from a comfortable chair near a westward-facing window and bade him to sit in the adjacent chair. Feeling a bit nervous, Ennis did as he was told and waited for her to speak, trying not to flinch beneath the power of her disconcerting gaze.

"The dreams have started," she stated. "And you are confused."

"Yes." He leaned forward in his eagerness. "Can you tell me what they mean? Only this night, I dreamed I was . . . " He stopped, wondering if she would think him presumptuous, and half afraid she would laugh.

"A half-elf," she finished. "It is true, Ennis. I did not see it until the day you led your people away, which means I was not meant to see it. All that took place on that day was meant to be. Those who died that day gave their lives to protect Lothlórien. It was Man's gift to us, an exchange for the lives of the elves lost at Helm's Deep. You were meant to lead them that day, just as you were meant to return to Lórien. You are indeed Peredhel. Your father was an elf."

Ennis struggled to absorb all this. "But how could it be true? And how could I not know? Amarië knew who she was!"

"She knew because from the time she was an infant, her mother told her it was so. Your sister accepted her Elvish heritage without question, and therefore was able to embrace it much more easily. Your mother did not tell you because she did not know."

"She did not know?" Ennis stared. "How could that be? Who is my father?"

Galadriel smiled. "You and Amarië share the same father."

"But he was dead by then!"

"He was sent back. For one night it was allowed, but the memory was taken from her afterward. It was thought to be too cruel otherwise."

"Why, milady?" Ennis shook his head in confusion. "Why was he sent back?"

The Lady reached out and laid her hand on his. "To father you, Ennis. Like your sister, you were destined to be born an elf. The time had come, but no more elves were being born. For that reason, you agreed to come into the world as a half-elf. The Valar decided that Celebrenin would serve the purpose, thereby mitigating his sins against your mother. It was an act of atonement as well as love."

"I see," he said slowly. "So when I dreamed of Manwë tonight, it was real?"

"Yes, Ennis. It was real. He offered you the choice?"

"Yes. I chose to be immortal. It seemed so logical and easy and obvious when I stood before him. I recognized his voice at once."

"And are you happy with your choice?" the Lady asked, her brows raised slightly.

"Yes, Lornarië and I . . ." He blushed, and she looked amused.

"Lornarië has waited long years for you, Ennis. We will speak more of this another day. Go to her now." She watched him rise to his feet. "Oh, and Ennis?"

He bowed. "Yes, milady?"

"The ability to make powerful magic runs strong in you. You must accept that. All your life you have scorned it, but it is part of you. The task assigned you at Helm's Deep had as much to do with awakening your gift as it had to do with saving elves. There is much for you to do in this world before you go to Valinor."

Bemused, Ennis took his leave and headed straight for Lornarië, who had been waiting patiently outside. He set his hands upon her shoulders, squeezing lightly as he gazed into her eyes. "I am a half-elf! Galadriel has confirmed it! My father was Lord Celeborn's son!"

"Oh, Ennis!" Lornarië threw herself into the cradle of his arms, hugging him as tightly as he was hugging her. "Oh, my love, I am so happy!"

Despite the presence of Galadriel's sentinels, who were watching them with open curiosity and amusement, Ennis kissed her hard and passionately, a lengthy kiss that she returned with equal fervor.

At last their mouths parted, and he rested his chin against her forehead as he held her close. "So," he murmured, "tell me now about how this elven binding works."

Lornarië smothered a laugh and reached up to touch his rounded ear. "I will do better than that. I will show you."

xxx

Haldir lay on his stomach on the bed with Amarië astride his hips, massaging and kneading the tense muscles of his back. Their lovemaking had been swift and fiery, for he had spoken truly when he said he needed her. After that, he had kissed her, slow, deliberate, shivery kisses that trailed all over her body, kisses that made her feel better than she had ever felt before, even with him, for at last she felt completely safe. He had gone into the worst of battles and come out of it alive. Her dreams would haunt her no more. And they were now under the protection of the two mightiest Valar.

"Lower," he grunted. "Ah, that is perfect."

"You must be feeling a great deal better by now," she remarked, savoring the feel of the smooth skin and powerful muscles of his broad back.

"Indeed." She could see him smile. "I could stay like this forever."

"Well, eventually it is going to be my turn," she pointed out.

He chuckled softly. "You just had your turn."

"That was not a massage."

"It was better than a massage. It was the Marchwarden's specialty."

She moved off of him and lightly smacked his backside. "Are you relaxed enough to talk?"

He rolled onto his back and grabbed her, pulling her down on top of him. His hands settled on her hips, and she rose up on her elbows so they were nose to nose.

"Aye," he said, "I'm ready to listen, if that is your meaning. I know you want to tell me how it was that you were there."

Amarië related as much as she recalled from her experience at Helm's Deep, of how she had come to be there, of flying through the air, of seeing Ennis and Angus. She told him also of how she had seen the axe strike him, and formed herself into a Shield.

"I felt you," he admitted, his tone pensive and filled with awe. "Even through the armor, I knew you were there. But I could not believe it."

"I was meant to be there, just as I told you. Only not the way I thought."

Then she told him how she had seen his brothers and searched for Ferodir, and how she had tried to take away Ferodir's pain, and almost been lost in the void. And then came the hardest part, the part that was most difficult to remember.

"It is hazy now. I saw stars and knew them to be souls. I heard music, but I cannot now remember what it sounded like." She traced a finger along his shoulder as she strained to recall the details. "I met Manwë and Elbereth. They told me many things." To the best of her ability, she tried to explain all that they had said, and how she and Haldir were both under their protection. Then she told him of Ennis, and of the blue glow and its meaning, and how her brother had helped her to return.

"And you and I are to be Life-Givers of the Slain," she finished. "I remember that most clearly. Six have chosen us, the seventh is a gift. Do you understand what that means?"

"Aye," Haldir said slowly, his eyes unfocused as though he, too, was trying to remember. "The slain who wait in the Halls of Mandos. Those ready to be reborn. So we have some children to create, eh?"

"Quite a few," she agreed. "But I do not think we need to start immediately."

He gave her a speculative look. "Probably not. We could even wait until we go to Valinor. What does 'the seventh is a gift' mean to you?"

She bit her lip. "I know not, but I could guess."

"What is your guess?"

"My father?" She searched his eyes for his reaction. "Do you think it is possible?"

He smiled and brushed a strand of her hair away from her cheek. "I think it is quite possible. Galadriel might know, but whether she will tell us, that is another matter."

"Oh, and Elbereth said something else. She said, beyond that, it is our choice. I think she meant we could choose whether or not to have more than seven children."

"Well, I'm glad of that! Seven children sounds quite sufficient."

"But if they are all males?"

"Nothing wrong with males. Reborn warriors from past battles! What could be more satisfying?"

"A sweet little elleth," Amarië answered dreamily.

Haldir grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "We will know when the time comes. You may find that seven is quite enough."

She laughed and kissed him back. "Yes, meleth, I am sure we will know."

xxx

The next morning, she and Ennis met as planned in Galadriel's garden near her mirror. Quietly, side by side, they sat upon a stone bench and gazed at the cheerful little stream edged with blue and yellow flowers and creeping vines. A little while passed before Ennis spoke.

"Have you heard?" he asked nonchalantly. "I am a half-elf. They call it Peredhel."

She could not repress a smile. "Yes, I know. Have you seen Manwë?"

Ennis nodded. "I have chosen immortality."

"Oh, Ennis, so have I! I am so glad!"

She gave him a quick hug, her mind racing to absorb the implications. Thank the Valar she would not have to lose her brother as she had so dreaded. Joy welled inside her, and she could feel tears threatening to fall. Ennis smiled and slipped his arm around her shoulders, and they sat in companionable silence for nearly a minute.

"Oh, by the way," he added suddenly, making it sound like an afterthought.

"Yes?" She glanced at him.

Ennis cleared his throat. "I wanted to tell you that . . . I now understand why I was not invited to your binding ceremony." His ears were pink with embarrassment.

Amarië stared, then she laughed and again embraced him. "You and Lornarië? You are bound to each other?"

"Aye." Ennis was still blushing. "I love her and she loves me. Galadriel seems to think we are meant for each other."

"Galadriel is very wise," Amarië agreed. "If she says it is so, then it is."

A small movement at the end of the garden caught her attention, and she turned her head. Lord Celeborn approached, his face serene, yet he looked glad to see them. Amarië and Ennis both rose as their grandfather came up to them and paused.

Lord Celeborn greeted them politely, then looked at her brother. "Ennis," he said, "Once more, and more properly than before, I welcome you to Lothlórien, the land of your father. It was not revealed to me that you were my grandson until after you left for Helm's Deep. As my kin, you of course have the right to live here in Lórien if you so choose. And I hope you will."

Ennis bowed. "Thank you, my lord," he replied. "I do wish it, and with good reason. Not only is my sister here, but Lornarië has done me the great honor of becoming my wife."

Celeborn smiled. "Yes, I can see in your eyes that you are bound. Perhaps we will have another celebration, but a small one. Now is a time of mourning and recovery, yet we must always remember to celebrate life and its renewal." His wise blue gaze encompassed them both. "You will be a great blessing to our people. Galadriel has foreseen this, and my heart tells me it is so."

"I would like to continue to improve my skills," Ennis put forth. "Perhaps eventually I might be permitted to assist in the protection of your borders. Our borders," he corrected with a shy smile.

Lord Celeborn nodded approvingly and set his hand upon Ennis' shoulder. "That would be well, grandson. We may have need of you. But you must also develop the special skills bestowed upon you by the Valar."

"Special skills?" Amarië repeated, suddenly recalling the red edging to the blue glow she had seen around Ennis. "What skills are these?"

Ennis turned to her, looking self-conscious. "Magic," he said wryly. "I am to be a practitioner of magic."

xxx

That evening, atop the highest flet in the city, Galadriel and Celeborn stood together, watching the sun sink into the west, its fiery blaze reminding Galadriel of her time so long ago in Valinor. Celeborn's face held no expression, for he never been to the Undying Lands, never seen the Two Trees that had brought light to the land of the Valar. And he never would, for they had been destroyed long ago by the dark lord and his accomplices.

"So what is next?" Celeborn asked her. "The One Ring is not destroyed. Have you seen or felt anything?"

"I have seen nothing about the One Ring, but my heart tells me that hope remains. There is still much good in the world. The world of Men rallies, and the Valar are on our side, as they have always been."

"At least my grandchildren survive and have begun to learn the truth of who they are. Amarië has accomplished the first part of her mission, and she has learned to trust. Ennis is learning that magic does not have to be evil. They will both continue to grow in wisdom."

"Yes," Galadriel said quietly. "I have foreseen much happiness for them both."

"And what of us?" Celeborn said. "Will we be happy?"

Galadriel glanced at him, wondering as she had done so many times before just who Celebrenin's mother had been. Celeborn had never told her and she had never asked. She knew it mattered not. She and Celeborn were fëa-mates who had searched for and found each other. Whom he had known before had never been a source of concern.

"I know not," she answered. "But I do know that I will go to Valinor long before you do."

Celeborn turned to her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I have foreseen this too. For a time our paths will separate, but our destinies are entwined. I will join you one day in the Undying Lands. I love you, Galadriel, and always will. Our connection to each other will serve us well during our time apart."

"Yes," Galadriel agreed, sighing sadly. She turned her eyes to the west, knowing that the time of separation would be soon.

Epilogue to follow...