Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. It's hard to get a few hours to sit down and write these things. I'll try to be faster, but I'm doing the best I can.

Disclaimer: Standard

Chapter Twelve: Elves in the Mountains

The moon had risen several hours ago; it was past midnight. There was a very light breeze which carried up mingled scents of the city and the wild. The burning aroma of oil lamps mingled with the clear perfume of the river, creating something not at all unpleasant, but very unique to Minas Tirith. It was mid-spring, cool and wet, but the gust that blew back my hair was refreshing and needed.

Sitting on the windowsill in my bedroom in the city, I could see everything I desired. The calm, night view of Gondor could be replaced with an image of a slumbering Lothriel, if only I turned my head. Tired, lonely, and very heavily pregnant, she had nearly jumped at my offer that she spend the nights in my room, in case the baby should come. I noticed she had seemed more relaxed these past few days, and I did not mind giving up my bed to her. I had never liked sleeping in it alone, and on the nights when Faramir did not get back from a meeting with the king (or a trip to the taverns with Beregond) until late, I would sit in the window, waiting. I had not slept in it since our argument nearly a week ago, and if the feeling of being watched over comforted Lothriel, I would not complain.

Eolyna and Lothlien, not old enough yet to have their own apartments, usually slept in their small beds in the next room of ours, but tonight, they had fallen asleep in their blankets on my floor and were too innocent to move. As children, they still had nightmares, stomachaches, and just plain lack of fatigue that kept them (and me) up at night. Elboron had his apartment down the hall; he had been quick to demand, at the age of five, his independence from his parents. I smiled a little, to be so surrounded by all of these people. Lothriel had become a dear friend to me since her marriage to Eomer three years in the past; my children, even strong headed Elboron, still liked to cling to me in a reassuring way.

I yawned, my first of the night. Since my husband and brother's departures, I had been unable to sleep well at all. I thought of them constantly, particularly Faramir, with loneliness one moment, and anger the next. I despised the thought of them helping the Easterlings, people whom I considered to be thieves, traitors, and murderers. Lothriel did not harbor the same loathing (indeed, she was so utterly sweet that I doubted she hated anything), but I noticed the loneliness etched on her tired features. I was angry for her – was she not Eomer's pregnant wife and Faramir's sickly cousin? – but I could not deny my own feelings. I felt betrayed; there seemed to me to be no point in giving land that we had just recently won (with more bloodshed than we could stand) back to the people we had won it from. In my heart, I felt glad that they were suffering, though I knew I should have felt horrible for thinking such a thing. While I saw my anger as justified, I knew that I should not have said such things as I did to Faramir. He had not made me bitter, nor unhappy; in my rage, I had ways of overly dramatizing things so as to win the argument. It was an unworthy and unhonorable tactic, to be sure, but it was a character flaw I could not seem to dispel. At this point, I thought unhappily, arching my back to stretch, I was willing to forgive Faramir for wanting to help what I saw as enemies. An apology was in order, and, amazingly, I saw that I was the one who needed to deliver it.

A sudden little whimper brought me back from my musings. Eolyna, twisted up horribly in her sheets, seemed to be having a little nightmare. Lothlien's eyes shot open and glared at her twin. "Eolyna, shhh!" she said harshly, giving her sister a gentle push.

"Lothlien!" I snapped in a whisper, not too harshly. I slid down from the windowsill and came over to the girls, untangling Eolyna from her sheets. Her eyes flew open and widened immediately.

"Mum," she whined, looking around, "Mum, where's Da?" I gathered her close and kissed the top of her head. "Mum, where's Da?" she demanded once again.

"Shh, Eolyna, your aunt Lothriel is trying to sleep. And you know your father went to help the Easterlings; I explained this. He's doing something very good for those people, because he's a good man." I had not been able to tell the children my distaste for the Easterlings, so I told them the truth as it would appear to most people except for me. They had accepted that, confident in their "Da's" goodness, Eolyna most of all. She was very much like Faramir; quiet, but very keen, with a penchant for reading and her father's stories. She was always unhappy when he wasn't at home, and was the first to run to the stables to find him on his return.

"I want Da to come home!" she demanded, a little quieter, but not by much.

"Shh, dear, your aunt is sleeping. I know you want your father home, but he'll be safe." A sudden thought occurred to me; was she having a vision in her dream, like Faramir had been prone to as a child? Was he in some danger, unknown to anyone but his scared daughter many miles away in her bed? "Why do you want him home so badly?" I asked urgently. "Do you think something is wrong?" I took a deep breath. No matter how I felt, I would not act panicked in front of the children.

"I miss him, but you yelled at him and he feels bad now," she said, sobbing a little. "I don't want you to be angry at him."

My mouth dropped a little. Of course. Faramir had seemed upset, he had probably mentioned the fight to Eomer when Eolyna was around, and she knew her father had not left a happy man. "Oh, honey, oh, I'm sorry. I've been feeling very bad about yelling at Da, and I can hardly wait for him to get home so I can tell him how sorry I am. I'm not really angry, I was just being silly, and I said something I didn't mean. When he comes back, everything will be better."

Eolyna seemed to think about this for a moment, then turned to Lothlien. The other girl nodded, as if they had agreed that my excuse had been satisfactory. Then, Eolyna turned back to me and frowned again. "I want a story," she demanded. Once again, Lothlien nodded in agreement.

"I already told you a story," I sighed wearily, shifting so that I had one arm around each girl. It was going to be another long night, I could tell.

"One of Da's stories," Eolyna insisted. "He always tells us good ones, about dwarves and elves and hobbits."

"I don't know any..." I stopped a moment, then smiled slyly. "Actually, I suppose that I do know a story about an elf that uncle Eomer and I met once."

"Really?" I jumped a little at Lothriel's voice. I hadn't noticed that she had woken up, or was listening, for that matter. "Eomer never told me about any elves."

"Well, it was a very long time ago. It was only a few weeks before our father died, so we didn't remember it much after that. We would mention it occasionally, but it always made Eomer uncomfortable; he finds elves slightly unsettling." I smiled at Lothriel, who had a bit of elven blood herself. "Full blooded elves, of course."

"Tell us, Mum," Lothlien begged. "Please, tell us and we'll go to sleep." At this Eolyna nodded furiously, her eyes wide with pleading. They grew bigger with delight as I tilted my head in defeat.

"Well, it couldn't hurt," I grumbled. "It was quite a long time ago. I was only about seven years old; I can't remember for sure..." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------

Haefla was surely the oldest woman Eowyn and Eomer had ever met. Their mother had been wary of letting the old lady be the children's nanny, but after watching her supervise them for a day or so, she was settled. So, Old Haefla became Eowyn and Eomer's constant watchdog. Everyday, she would walk (rather slowly) out to the wide fields surrounding Edoras, find a nice alcove at the bottom of the mountains, and fall asleep. The first few days this happened, the shocked siblings just sat and watched her sleep. Soon though, they realized she would not wake up from these naps until hours later, so they set off to explore the mountains.

It was on one particular day like this that Eomer persuaded his little sister to climb higher than they ever had before. She, being very headstrong and unwilling to let her brother outdo her, agreed.

"Eomer," she called, grasping an overhead stone and pulling herself up, "I don't think this is a very good idea." She scrambled onto the ledge and immediately peeked over the edge, wishing she hadn't. The drop was very steep, very far, and very sharp.

"Are you afraid, then?" Eomer taunted, hoisting himself up beside her in a few moments.

"No, of course not," she said, not sure if she was lying or not. "It's just that it's a very big drop, and I don't want you to fall. You're too fat to carry back to Edoras myself."

Eomer gave her an ugly look. "You could get Haefla to do it, if she would wake up in time. Besides, I'm not the one who would fall."

"I'm littler than you, and faster," she replied, a smug grin on her face. "I don't have to worry."

They argued back and forth like that for a few moments before Eomer got up to start climbing again. Eowyn obediently followed, feeling tired but not wanting to let it show. "Eowyn," he called suddenly, "I think there's a big nice ledge up here." She saw him scramble and disappear.

"What is it?" she called, peering upwards. There was no reply. "Eomer? Eomer, answer me!" Still, there was no response. She huffed, and then began pulling herself closer, mumbling various insults to her brother under her breath. Grabbing the ledge, she pulled herself up and over.

Peering about, she saw Eomer, standing on quite a large rocky outcropping. He looked alert, scared, and ready to fight, all at the same time. He had in his hand the small dagger he had been given by their father. Eowyn, frantic, looked around, but didn't see what was threatening her brother.

"Eomer, there's nothing up here," she said sharply. He reached back and clapped his hand over her mouth and shook his head. To their right, a few rocks tumbled down the cliff, echoing ominously. She uttered a muffled shriek as a head peered around a large boulder at them.

"Children? Climbing mountains?" The person shook his head, long blonde hair cascading over his shoulders. "This cannot be safe, can it?"

"Leave us alone!" Eomer shouted, sounding much braver than his shaking made him seem.

Eowyn's eyes widened in shock. "It's an elf, Eomer!" she hissed, pointing in the direction of the person's pointed ears.

The elf smiled and came from behind the boulder. "Ah, you're a smart one..." he began, but Eomer jabbed at him with his dagger.

"Don't come near us," he threatened. "I know what elves do. You capture little children and feed them to your queen. You're not taking Eowyn and me!"

"Feed you? To my queen?" The elf gave a hearty laugh and promptly sat down upon the ledge. "No, even if my queen was some horrible monster who ate human children, you are both much too skinny to make a meal."

Eomer, slightly confused and off his guard, fell to the side as Eowyn pushed him away in her scramble to get to the elf. She fell to her knees in front of him and stared, awe etched on her face. "Are you really an elf?" she asked in a whisper.

"Yes, you're right," the elf replied. "My name is Orophin; I come from Lothlorien, to the north."

"What are you doing away from there, then?" Eomer snapped. He stood behind Eowyn, lightly clutching his dagger, still looking wary.

The elf frowned at him. "You are not very friendly, young man. Your sister is much better behaved." He was quiet and did not answer.

Eowyn leaned closer. "What are you doing here, sir?" she asked, in her most polite voice.

Again, Orophin smiled. "My queen, who is not hungry for your blood, sent me on a mission to the south, where some people that have some far-removed elven blood still dwell. I am on my way back from there now. I decided that scurrying over these mountains would be quicker than going around."

Eomer's jaw dropped. "You cannot be serious. These mountains are very treacherous to climb; it's surprising you're not dead."

"Elves are much more graceful and light than men. I had no problem in climbing or descending this mountain. You, on the other hand, will probably find it a difficult task to get back to the ground."

Eowyn nodded. "I didn't want to, I knew it was dangerous, really. Eomer's just a big brute, and always makes me do things like this. Sir, what is Lothlorien like?"

Orophin laughed, obviously taking a liking to Eowyn. "It is beautiful, golden, and sweet. There is no place like it in the world. This place of Rohan, it is lovely in its own way, but I much prefer the Land of Lorien."

"May I come back with you?" Eowyn inquired eagerly.

"Eowyn!" Eomer snapped, obviously shocked.

Orophin's eyes widened. "You say your brother makes you do dangerous things, little one, but you are a bit foolish yourself. You could not go to Lorien; few people ever go there, for it is mysterious and ancient. Most people cannot comprehend or truly appreciate it."

"But... It would be fun," Eowyn said with a shrug. "Perhaps, someday."

"Yes, perhaps, Lady Eowyn," Orophin mused for a moment. "Now, back to the ground with you; this is not a good place for you to be. Ah, wait..." He stood and went to the back of the rock and retrieved a small green bag. He reached inside and pulled out a very long silver rope. "Yes, here, I will tie this to this rock..." He fastened one end of the rope to a stable rock. Eomer jumped as he passed, looking scared. "There now, you can just make your way down."

Eomer needed no second bidding. Immediately he was making his way down, eyes wide and fearful. Eowyn hesitated. "I always wanted to meet an elf," she said slowly. "Can't you come back to Meduseld with us, and tell us stories?"

Orophin smiled at her and ruffled her hair. "Of course not. I must get back to my lady and tell her my mission is accomplished. You will meet other elves someday; surely, an elf from another place than I am from. In fact, Lady Eowyn, you will meet many kinds of people, and go many places. But for now, your parents and your uncle Theoden await you. Go."

Eowyn nodded fiercely and turned away. She made her way down the rope rather slowly. As soon as she was back on solid ground, the rope drew itself upwards. She watched it for a moment, and then smiled at her brother.

"Not a word of this to anyone," he snapped, turning very red. He frowned at her. "Why do you look so confused?"

Eowyn tilted her head and bit her lip as they began to walk back towards Haefla. "He knew Uncle Theoden's name..." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------

Eolyna and Lothlien stared with wide, amazed eyes. I smiled softly at them. "That was my first encounter with an elf. I did not meet another one until many years later, when our friend Legolas arrived with Gimli and the king in Edoras," I finished.

Lothriel laughed. "Eomer is so distrustful of things he sees as magic or too radically different. I am not surprised he acted that way," she said.

"No, it is just in his nature to be like that. Now, Eolyna, Lothlien, you promised you'd go to sleep. Get to your beds." Dutifully, unhappily, the twins trudged off to their beds, looking slightly amazed from my adventure. They closed the door softly behind them.

I turned back to Lothriel, who was watching me with a smile. "That was a wonderful story," she said, watching as I crossed back to the window. As I crawled up onto the sill, she said, "I'm sorry I'm taking up your bed. If you'd like..."

"Stay there, Lothriel," I replied, not letting her finish. "I'm not tired, and you need all the rest you can get."

"Yes," she said with a yawn. "I suppose you're right." She was asleep again soon, greeted by what I'm sure were sweet dreams of my brother. She drew the blankets close to her chin, snuggled deep into my pillow, and wrapped her arm around the swell of her stomach, comforted by the life inside her.

I turned to gaze out the window again, cold, tired, lonesome, and sorry.