When Alva pulls an ungrateful elf from her well, he doesn't exactly act like a gift from the Valar, but they just might learn more from each other than either of them knows.
I own nothing that looks like it might belong to someone else. Alvaralindë and Mandel, as well as their histories and the people in them, are the products of my own mind. If you feel like writing a story using them it would be extremely hypocritical of me to protest. Although, I would like to see it when you're done.
For the real life Alva, who bears little if any actual resemblance to her namesake, and who asked for it though perhaps did not fully comprehend what she was getting into when she badgered me into writing a story with her in it...

"Hannon Le"

Alva sighed wearily as she watched the last of her guests go. The morning light shone gently on their departing backs as they left with ample daylight remaining to see them to their own doorsteps however far away they might be. She rubber her eyes; she had been awake far into the night and the day ahead promised little time for rest. Moving slowly but resolutely to her work she slipped back into the kitchen; she wasn't ready to even think about the work that needed doing in the rest of the house. With a groan she heaved the few unopened sacks of grain and vegetables out of the walkway and back against the wall. The dishes were mostly clean, thanks to some youngsters whose high spirits had come out in a more aggressive way than most; kitchen duty made an effective punishment as well as a deterrent against further incidents. That left the floor that needed washing. She sighed again, and, dragging a bucket with her, went out back to the well to fetch some water.

Noticing that the line was unwound, Alva dropped the bucket next to the well and started to reel it in. Her sleep deprived mind didn't notice at first that the hoist wasn't moving. She frowned at it and gave the rope a good tug. It resisted, as if some heavy weight deep inside the well held it fast. Vexed, she pulled at the winch harder and managed to reel in a short length of the rope. Locking the winch tight, to keep it from unwinding, Alva leaned against the side of the well for a moment to gather her thoughts. What was going on? Had something fallen down the well? Had… someone? "Ah… Hello?" she called down the well hesitantly.

Her voice echoing down off the stones was her only answer for such a long span of moments that she thought she must have been mistaken in her assumption. She had turned, and was about to go and fetch the cow to reel in the rest of the line to see what on earth had happened to her well, when a surly voice stopped her. "Yes, well. I suppose I am down here and I would appreciate it if you would help me out." The voice was male and unfamiliar, and she thought he might have hurt himself grinding his teeth when he said the word "help."

"Oh... of course." She went immediately and fetched the cow from the barn and, tying a rope around its horns and then to the line that went down into the well, used it's strength to pull this unfortunate stranger from the well. She led the animal away from the well, slowly, until the end of the line, featuring a wooden bucket supporting a sopping wet figure with long brown hair, came into view. She halted and waited for the man to climb down from his perch. When he didn't move, she grew worried and decided he must have hurt himself somehow. Tying the placid cow's halter rope to a nearby tree, she hurried back to the well thinking that he hadn't sounded injured when he had called up to her. "Are you all right? Where are you hurt?" she asked him in a rush, reaching out to touch his arm.

He flinched away from her touch, even though that made his precarious support wobble even more precariously, and fastened two glaring eyes on her. "I am not injured, nor do I require any further attentions!" He all but spat the words, and carefully freed one hand from where it clutched at the bucket and brought it, shaking, to brush the hair out of his face. Moving stiffly, slowly, and even more shakily, he reached out to the frame of the well and attempted to pull himself onto more solid ground. She stood still, watching and offering no assistance as all of his attempts met with miserable failure. Despite what he said, she could see that his leg pained him greatly, though he tried to hide it. And he didn't have to say anything for her to recognize that he wasn't human.

She might live in the middle of nowhere now, but Alva had been raised much farther north than the back end of Gondor where she currently resided. She had cut her eyeteeth on stories of the elves, told before a roaring fire by weary travelers at her father's inn. The creature before her could be nothing else. The clear, bright, blue eyes, the long, fine hair, the lithe build, the arrogant voice. No, there could be no mistake. Nevermind the fact that in pulling his sodden hair back from his face, he had revealed slender pointed ears; nevermind that his arrogance marked his gender more than his race.

Finally, she could stand it no longer. "Look," she snapped. His eyes turned toward her challengingly. "Like it or not you fell down my well, and whatever you want to say about it you've broken your leg and I'm not letting you go anywhere without having that seen to." With an arrogant curl of his lip he opened his mouth, but she beat him to it. "And don't even think," she shook a finger at him, "about spouting any of that superior elven body crap at me." He shut his mouth with a snap and glared at her. She met his glare with one of her own. They seemed to be stuck in a stalemate when she suddenly stuck out her arm for him to hold onto. Silently, his eyes speaking volumes and none of them suitable for children, he took hold of her arm. Taking that as a tacit request for aid she pulled him toward her roughly, grabbing him by the waist as soon as his body was close enough, and dragging him from the last clutches of the well.

They landed in a heap in the dirt, him on top of her. If his glares before had been venomous, the look in his eyes now would have dropped the entire army of Mordor where they stood in their tracks. "Do you have a name?" She asked him conversationally. He spat something in his language that she was certain was not his name, and scrambled to get off of her as if her touch was that of a poisonous insect. In his frantic attempts, he accidentally leaned his weight on his right leg. His face went ashen from the pain and even he could not suppress the exclamation of pain that slipped through his lips.

All her thoughts of jesting left her as Alva moved to his side and helped him to sit on the edge of the well. Wasting no time, she went back to the cow, which was patiently chewing on the nearest branch of the tree she was tied to, and put it back in the barn. That taken care of, she slipped into the house and poured some of the wine leftover from last night into a glass. Taking it with her, she went back out to the well.

The elf was still sitting there, his face buried in his hands as he rubbed aggressively at his temples. "Here," she said, taking one of his hands and pressing the cup into it. He started when she spoke, as if he had not seen or heard her before that moment, and as if he had not expected to see her ever again. He took the glass and, glancing once at its contents, drank it down thirstily. He handed it back to her and almost looked as if he wanted to say something, but he continued his silence. "Come on," she said, and, without waiting for a response, she dropped the cup into a pocket of her apron and, taking his arm, draped it across her shoulders. With him leaning on her and her supporting his weight, they made their way to the house.

They came in through the kitchen and she set him down in an armchair by the door. His face was a study by this point. Ignoring it, she said, "I apologize for the mess. I had a party last night, and I haven't had time to clean up yet."

"Yes, I am well aware of that fact." His words were clipped and his tone was waspish, but more, she thought, from pain than from anything else.

"Oh?" she said, but there were more important things at the moment. She squatted in front of him and touched the injured leg lightly. "I don't know much about elves, but I know that leg needs to be set and I do know how to do that. I can do it, or if you want I can go and fetch someone else."

His glance this time was filled only with surprise. "Elves have bones, just like humans," he said grudgingly. "You... you may set it. After that, it will heal by itself."

Alva nodded. She located a knife and material for a splint, and poured another glass of wine offering it to the elf. He shook his head. She shrugged, and bent to her task. Crouching in front of him, she pulled his boot from the foot of the injured leg and used the knife to slit his leggings from the bottom to just above the knee. Pulling the cloth away form the leg, she examined the break in the bone with her fingers. It wasn't that bad, as broken bones went. It had broken through the skin, and being underwater all night was creating an interesting effect. She could see the elf gripping the arms of the chair in preparation for the jolt when she moved the bones back in line. Without warning, she did it. Letting loose another phrase she had to assume was an expletive, the elf almost ripped the arms off her chair and a grimace completely out of proportion with the pain she was causing him crossed his face. Frowning, she fashioned a splint for the leg to keep the bone from moving, then moved her fingers further up his leg. His eyes widening, he swatted her hands away.

She scowled at him. "You hide it very well, but you have a dislocated hip. Why did you not say anything?" Despite his reluctance, she probed his hip gently with her fingers. In response to her accusation, he returned to his silent glaring of earlier. However, this time his face was distinctly redder. She had to turn her face away to keep him from seeing her smile as his uncomfortableness amused her. "Well," she said, " I do not think anything is broken. But it needs to be reset as well."

The elf grunted at her in answer and refused to look at her. She rolled her eyes, and, standing, said, "Come on then." He looked up at her, confused as she pulled him to his feet, or foot as the case was. "I can't relocate your hip while you are sitting there, and you are not going anywhere after I do it either so I might as well move you somewhere more comfortable."

He flinched, startled, at her words. "I am not going to stay here. I do not require your attention," he said again, but this time his words were without malice and they held no conviction. She ignored him and concentrated on helping him walk the short distance to the nearest bedroom. Upon reaching it, she helped him lower himself down onto the surface of the bed and then lie back. Glancing at her, the elf took hold of the headboard of the bed in order to brace himself. Gripping his leg at the knee, to avoid the break in the lower half of his leg, Alva realigned it with the hip socket with a quick jerk. A muted scream leaked out between lips pressed together tightly. When she was done, he released his hold on the bed frame and curled his arms around his head, his body shaking. She reached out to touch him but stopped. Instead, she pulled a blanket over him. "You should sleep now," she whispered, and turned to leave the room.

A hand shot out and snagged her wrist. She turned back to look at the elf. He looked at her, the same expression he had worn earlier after she had first given him the wine, as if he wanted to say something. He looked away. "Mandel," he said.

"What?" she asked puzzled.

He released her wrist and pulled the blanket she had draped over him across his shoulders and over his arms. "My name."

-o-

Alva was in the kitchen. She had washed the floor. She had put away all the dishes and food. She had cleaned the rest of the house as well. She was making lunch. She was trying not to think about last night. Thankfully, her unexpected guest of that morning was proving very useful in that regard.

How on earth had she gotten an elf in her well? How the mysterious Mandel managed to get himself down her well completely baffled Alva. She had to know, but she was fairly certain it was not something he was going to tell her. He didn't seem to like her very much and therefore would probably not be telling her a story that was, in all likelihood, very embarrassing for him. She sighed. She might go crazy wondering about it if he didn't tell her. At any rate, lunch was done, so she put together a tray of food to bring her invalid guest.

A light knock at the door produced no answer. Alva pushed it open a crack, and upon seeing her guest sitting up in his bed she entered and set the tray on the table beside the bed. "Do you feel better after your sleep?" she asked pleasantly.

He was sitting with his back to her, and he flinched at her voice. He mumbled something under his breath, and then said, loud enough for her to hear this time, "Go away. I have come to accept that I must stay in this place for a while, but that does not mean I must suffer your presence." His voice was hard, and laced with pain underneath. He whirled on her, half standing up. "I do not need sleep and I do not need your pitiful human food! I do not need this room and this 'comfortable' bed as you call it. It is all waste compared to my home and I only count the days until I can return there!" He was yelling by the time he finished, and when he stopped, panting for breath, it appeared to just then dawn on him what he had said. He opened his mouth again, his face apologetic.

Whether or not he was actually going to say anything shortly became a moot point. "Oh really?" Alva was shaking with rage and her voice shook too. "Well, if that's the way you feel you can just leave! Why would I want you to stay here when you can go back to your palace, oh great elf? Or did you get lost and think my well was your front door?"

Mandel blushed a brilliant scarlet. "Why would I want to stay here? Althail didn't want to either, did he?" he shot back in a dark voice, meant to hurt.

Alva froze, her eyes wide. Taking a few steps forward she slapped Mandel across the face as hard as she could. Then she turned and left the room.

Breathing heavily, Mandel became aware that his leg was bothering him. He shifted to a more comfortable position almost unconsciously. His mind was going over the conversation that had just happened. Groaning in a way that had nothing to do with his leg, the elf lay back down on the bed and hid his head in his arms.

-o-

She couldn't sleep. Damn that elf anyway. What did he know? But she was shaking, and no longer with rage. She could not stay here, in this room. Leaving her bedroom, she made her way to the kitchen. Maybe some tea would calm her enough to sleep. Passing by the room where she had put the elf, she heard noises.

Alva paused. It sounded like voices. No, just one voice. Was the elf talking to himself? Her fingers curled into fists; she didn't care what he was doing. She had started back down the hallway to the kitchen when a piercing cry of pain echoed after her. She stopped dead. She took a deep breath and turned around. Walking up to the door, she pushed it open.

Mandel was asleep; or at least he was lying in the bed, the moonlight falling over him. He was moaning to himself and occasionally he seemed to be speaking to someone but she couldn't make out any words. The pain on his face was so potent she couldn't help herself. She slipped into the room and shook him gently by the shoulders. "Wake up," she urged softly.

He awoke with a start as soon as she touched him. He stared up at her with uncomprehending eyes. Eyes the were blurred by unshed tears saw only the outline in the moonlight of a woman with dark hair and to his dream tormented mind there was only one person who would be here in his room at night.

"Nönde," he said softly, and threw himself into her arms.

Alva gasped as Mandel fell into her arms, but she recovered from her shock and held him as he began to cry softly. She rocked him gently and stroked his hair and sung to him softly as he shuddered with tears and spoke rambling, heart-rending sentences in a language she couldn't understand. After a long while he seemed to fall asleep again, but Alva did not move. She sat there and stroked his hair, tears dried on her own cheeks.

It was not until the first light of dawn crept through the small window high up in the wall that Mandel stirred again. His movement woke Alva who had fallen asleep where she sat. Shaking himself, Mandel blinked and looked around him with bleary eyes. He blinked several times when he looked at Alva. When he registered who she was, a look of revulsion came over his face and he pushed her away. Alva clenched her jaw and stood up from the bed. She did not want to get into another fight like yesterday's, so she began to leave.

"Wait."

The word was spoken so softly that Alva wasn't sure at first that she had heard it. She turned and looked at Mandel.

"Please," he wanted to add something, but he lowered his eyes. "I do not know your name."

It was not a question, but she answered it anyway. "Alvaralindë."

"Alvaralindë," he repeated, tasting the sound of the word like a fine wine on the tongue. "I..." There was sorrow on his face, and repentance, and a need she resonated with deeply, as well as a hundred other emotions she couldn't even name. "I am... sorry." His eyes met hers and she knew how much those words cost him.

"Why?" she asked softly, her eyes searching his. "Why does it pain you so much to say that?"

His eyes fell. "Who is Althail?" he asked so softly she almost could not hear him.

For the first time in her life, the mention of that name did not cause her to feel anger and sorrow. Instead she felt that here, at last, she had found someone who had perhaps suffered as much pain as she had.

She came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Last night there was a party here, as you know." He nodded. "Gomthail... my... well he is not my husband anymore," she brushed the annoyance of water from her eyes. "It was to celebrate Gomthail's marriage, to Ystir from the village."

Mandel's eyes showed his confusion. "A man, who is no longer your husband, wed another woman under your roof?"

"It is his roof," Alva said practically, but the heart cares little for practicality. She pushed forward with her story, keeping it short and to the point so that she would finish it before she remembered what she was telling and lost all semblance of her nerve. "We were married several years ago and I bore him a son, Althail." She breathed the name, and realized her ploy was not going to work. Tears came to her eyes, but she shut them and continued to speak. "We named him Althail, and I loved him so much." Her voice broke, but she drew a shuddering breath and kept going. "One day he went into the forest. He was only five years old, and he went into the forest, and... " her eyes opened, "I never saw him again. He had a charm he always wore," she made an gesture around her wrist as of a bracelet. "A small bit of metal, but Esham found it in the stomach of a bear he killed a month after. So Gomthail gave up hope, and I... what could I do?"

She whispered the last, brokenly, and sat there alone a pillar against the night breaking inside herself. Mandel reached out hesitantly and touched her shoulder. She looked at him. He felt he should speak reassuring words to her, but, instead, he followed her example.

"Nönde and I were wed on a summer night so beautiful it made Illúvatar cry to make it." He closed his eyes and he could feel the light rain on his face and the smell of the elanor flowers that had bloomed all around them. "She was slight and dark, and I remember her dancing in the rain. I first met her when we were both very young and I knew even then that I loved her." Remembering her made him smile, but it was a bittersweet expression. "She went walking in the forest one day not long after we married and she came upon a group of men." Mandel's jaw clenched even just thinking about that long ago day. "She only wished to speak with them, to trade gossip and knowledge of the forest, but they... they... they treated her badly." His breath caught in his throat. Alva reached out to him, not sure he would accept her sympathy but unable to stop from offering it. He glanced at her. "I thought you were her when you came to me last night," he confided.

"I did not understand the words you spoke to me," she replied.

"Ah," he looked relieved. "It has been many years since she died, but she is still the only one I see in my dreams."

"How long has it been?" Alva asked, her voice quiet and distracted as if she was not certain she wanted to hear the answer.

"One thousand, seven hundred, and ninety three years," he replied.

"What?" Alva jumped up, completely flabbergasted. "How..." She put a hand to her forehead and sat down again. "I had heard your kind were immortal, but I had not understood what that meant. To have lived so long without the one you love... I cannot imagine." Her eyes showed her inability to comprehend such pain.

"It is... not the same as you would imagine, if you could." He leaned back against the head board behind him pulling his whole leg up under him and leaving the other lying straight out. "And she is not dead. Not precisely. She has passed to Valinor." He smiled slightly, hopefully. "I will see her again, someday." Seeing that his human companion did not quite understand, he elaborated. "It is sad that her life here was cut short in such a brutal way, immeasurably sad, but she has passed on to a better place where she will be healed of all her ills. And I have known other humans who have helped to repair the bad impression I have of their race." He looked at her when he spoke.

"Have you?" She smiled a secret smile. "That is well. We are not all such beasts. Though there are times when I think all the males are such."

He laughed, quietly, since she had intended to be humorous, but he said, "I am sure there is at least one who is not."

"Oh? Would you point him out to me?"

"I think you know him," he replied. "He is your son."

She froze. "Do you know him?"

"No. But I," he touched her cheek, "refuse to give up hope. Never give up hope, Alvaralindë."

She wiped a single tear from her face. "Yes."

-o-

She was in the kitchen, making bread, when Mandel came out of his room. Leaning heavily on the wall, as well as a cane she had found for him, he slowly made his way into the kitchen and sat down in the chair by the door, the same one he had sat in on his first day here only two days ago.

"Are you feeling better?" Alva asked, and added hesitantly, "Will you be leaving soon?"

"If I intend to finish walking to my destination, I will not be leaving for awhile yet," he replied. "And by then, it may not be worth it to go."

"Where are you going?" She kneaded the dough, but her attention was piqued.

"To visit an old friend, and witness her marriage."

"Oh! Well, it would be a shame to miss that," she said, suddenly focused very intently on her bread.

"Yes. It is the event of the millennium really- the marriage of Undómiel." He was frowning at the air in front of him, mentally kicking himself for being so stupid as to get his leg broken.

"Yes," she echoed. Stealing a glance at him, she said, "You could ride there, I suppose."

He looked at her, suspicious but hopeful. "I don't have a horse."

"True." She went back to the bread. "Of course," she said after a minute, "there is Gomthail's old stallion, out in the back pasture. But he left him there because the creature was unmanageable." Mandel's ears actually perked up at that information. She had to turn away to hide her smile. "Yes, completely unmanageable."

"I..." Mandel began, but then fell silent, observing the air again, this time his frown thoughtful. Alva put the bread aside, to let it rise, and came over to kneel in front of him. His eyes were hopeful as he looked at her, but he said nothing.

"I have heard," she said softly, "of how the elves speak to animals. How they can coax the last bit of energy out of the most tired of creatures and tame the wildest beast."

"That is perhaps an exaggeration." He was whispering, and she could see just how much he wanted to go to this wedding. "But this stallion... I could..."

"I give him to you," Alva said loudly, firmly, her face determined.

He was silent for a minute. "I... I accept this gift, on one condition." He met her eyes. "That you come with me."

Her mouth fell open, and she gasped. "What! What... what on earth would I do at an elvish wedding?" But her eyes were wide with excitement.

"It is not just an elvish wedding," he murmured. "And I refuse to accept this gift on top of everything else you have given me unless you do come with me."

She hesitated, thinking of the beauty of it all, but he wasn't done talking yet.

"I... I did not expect any help from you at all, indeed, at first I rejected the help you tried to offer. When you left me sitting next to the well I thought you had gone back to your work and forgotten about me. It would have been no more than I deserved. I... I was very rude, and I had called you something... also very rude. But you returned, and you aided me further, and even when I struck at you with something very dear to your heart and intended to wound you with it you did not throw me out of your house, in which course you would have been entirely justified. Instead, you comforted me when I..." he took a deep breath. "My kind does not like to admit to weakness. It makes us... angry to say the least, and you caught me at such a time. While that is no excuse, it is the best one I can offer for my actions toward you. Please let me make it up to you by bringing you to witness this event which holds a great deal of significance for both elf and man."

Alva answered in the only way she could. She stood and offered him her arm.

-o-

The old stallion snarled at them as they approached the fence of the pasture, then showed them his heels as he took off for the far side where he ran up and down the length of the fence kicking up dirt. Mandel was not phased.

"What is his name?" he asked Alva softly.

"Entei," she supplied.

He nodded, and climbed, clumsily for one of his race, up onto the fence. He sat on top of it for a few moments, then began to sing softly. From across the pasture, Entei's ears flickered at the sound and his wild running slowed. A soothing feeling came over Alva as she listened. She closed her eyes and let the music fill her. After a few moments she became aware of another noise intruding upon that of the melody; it was Entei. While the music had brought him to a stop earlier, he was now coming toward them. Mandel stopped singing and began to speak to the horse softly. Alva listened, letting the smooth sound of the strange language flow over her. She watched as Entei came up to the fence and stood just beneath where Mandel was sitting. The horse raised his head toward the elf and snorted expressively. Alva had no idea what he was trying to say, but Mandel seemed to, for he continued speaking in his soothing voice. After a few moments, Entei bowed his head and then, making a small noise in the back of his throat, reached out to nudge his head against the elf's uninjured leg. Mandel reached down and stroked the horse's face, and before she could blink he was seated on the horse and Alva could only stare in wonder and try not to laugh when she thought of all the effort Gomthail had put into trying to break the animal.

"Open the gate," Mandel said, still in his soothing voice. Alva did so, and any arguments she might have had about releasing a wild animal were washed away when Entei walked docilely out of the pasture and came to stand easily beside her while Mandel slid down from his back.

"Amazing," she breathed. She reached out hesitantly to stroke the stallion's shoulder, and continued with more boldness when she met with no resistance. "Come on then." Alva led the two creatures that followed her back toward her kitchen, where she packed some supplies for the journey and fed Entei an apple.

"Ready?" Mandel looked down at her from Entei's back.

Alva paused, turning back toward her house. But it wasn't her house, and had never really been. So she felt no real sorrow when it came to her that she never intended to see it again. She had everything she needed with her. Shouldering her pack, she looked up at Mandel and nodded. He reached down a hand and pulled her up behind him.

-o-

"Well?" Mandel's voice was laced with laughter. "What do you think?"

"I think this is not what I expected... not at all..." Was all Alva could breathe in response. She clutched tightly at his back in front of her, desperate to hold onto something that was real, or at least more real to her than the whirling chaos that surrounded her. She looked up again, and just stared.

Minas Tirith. The White City, capital of Gondor. She had never thought that she would see it. She had never really considered herself a resident of Gondor. She had just lived where her husband lived. She was from Eriador, in the north and west, not the southern country of Gondor. But now, she was in Minas Tirith. To witness the coronation of the king. Who was marrying Mandel's friend, the elf lady.

"You never said..." she murmured, watching the people who turned and greeted them with shouts of goodwill.

"You never asked," he replied, noticing the occasional odd look they received which was immediately lost in the overwhelming feeling of joy which pervaded the city. Joy yes, though loss had been so resent. This, Mandel thought, was what had led him to befriend humans again. Their indomitable spirit.

"Mandel!" a voice called, and the pair on the stallion turned to see an elf with long blonde hair waving at them.

"Legolas!" Mandel called back, a smile coming his face. He touched Entei on the neck and the horse came to a stop as the blonde elf made his way through the crowd toward them. "Legolas, this is Alvaralindë. She has done me a great service, and so I brought her to this happy occasion."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Alvaralindë," Legolas replied smoothly, though his eyebrow quirked at Mandel's choice of words. "Happy? Not all would say so."

"True," Mandel replied simply. "You brought her?"

Legolas' smile became mischievous. "He doesn't know yet."

Mandel laughed out loud. "Then we shall take our places for the ceremony, if we can find any. Though... could I speak to her?"

"Of course. She would love to see an old friend."

"Could you perhaps lead the way? If the horse will fit, I'd like to bring him most of the way. My... ah, my leg isn't quite up to walking." Mandel mumbled the last part, but Legolas didn't push him, simply placing a hand on Entei's cheek and leading the horse toward one of the buildings. Alva clung to Mandel's back completely in a daze.

It didn't help Alva's presence of mind that they were lead into a room full of elves. To be surrounded by such beauty was almost suffocating. And there, in the midst of the chaos was someone she knew, if only by reputation. If she had never actually seen an elf before she met Mandel, Alva had heard the story of Beren and Lúthien too many times not to recognize the one who walked in her likeness. Undómiel, she remembered Mandel had said but the significance had escaped her at that time. But now, as the focus of the storm moved toward them and embraced Mandel with a brotherly kiss it finally struck Alva that she was in Minas Tirith to witness the coronation of the new King Aragorn Elessar and the marriage of himself to the elven Lady Arwen Evenstar and she was still wearing her stained working dress, though she had taken off the apron.

When the lady turned to her and smiled, it occurred to Alva that Mandel must have introduced her, but she was too frozen to respond. All she could do was stare, however impolite that might be. But the Evenstar seemed to know what was going on in her mind, for she only smiled warmly and reached out to touch Alva's knee.

"Thank you for taking care of Mandel. He is a very dear friend of mine, and it eases my heart to have him here."

"It was nothing," she protested without even thinking. "I couldn't just leave him in my well or something."

Arwen smiled, just for her. "That you think so means you are one of the people over whom I will be proud to be queen." She turned to Mandel, her expression one of slight worry. "Have you seen Estel? How does he look? He does not know I am here, does he?"

"Though I have not seen him, I know your husband awaits you with great anticipation though he is not aware of your presence in the city." Mandel took her shoulders and looked at her long and hard, his eyes softening. "He is doing nothing less or he would not be worthy of you, and you would not be ready to sacrifice everything for him."

She smiled, tears misting her eyes. "Hannon le, Mandel," she pulled him toward her for another hug. "Thank you for always supporting me."

"Mellon-nín," he murmured against her hair, "I could do nothing less having received the honor of your friendship."

With one last kiss to her forehead, Mandel turned and jumped onto Entei's back. "We will leave you to your preparations now, and find ourselves a place to watch the proceedings."

Arwen nodded. "The grace of the Valar go with you always Mandel." She rapped him on the leg. "And perhaps someday they'll keep you out of trouble, hm?" Throwing a wink at Alva, the Evenstar allowed herself to once again be surrounded by a bevy of attendants.

-o-

"Well, this is interesting."

Alva snorted. "It's dangerous, and if you weren't so dead set on seeing this and if we weren't so late for it, then I wouldn't be sitting here or allow you to be sitting here!"

Entei snorted his agreement before shifting his feet in order to maintain his position on top of the precarious pile of rubble.

"It's not that dangerous," Mandel protested feebly, but then let the subject drop as far more interesting things were about to happen.

They really had a most excellent view of the coronation, unobstructed by any heads in front of them. And they weren't the only ones taking advantage of the city's recent battle; there were adventurous people perched all over the wall, wherever a nook or cranny could be found. Alva felt her heart in her mouth as she watched. A king... How long had it been since Gondor had a king? And even though she had never claimed any kinship with this country before, she felt now a desire to be one with these people. To count herself as one of them, rather than a visitor out of the north who just happened to be living here. They were too far away to see details, but this man, this king, stood tall and strong and she began to think there was something to Mandel's words, that there were still men who were not beasts like the ones she had known.

The new king was moving through the crowd, greeting his new subjects, when a sudden hush fell over the people gathered. Alva didn't see the man's face when he looked up and saw his beloved standing there in front of him, but she remembered Arwen's smile and she could imagine well enough. It was so beautiful she couldn't watch, and she hid her face against Mandel's back and tried to dry her tears without him noticing.

"Come," Mandel said softly, and urged Entei down from their perch to stand at the back edge of the crowd. Taking Alva's hand, he helped her down from the horse's back. She looked at him questioningly, and he said simply, "Go and greet your new king."

She froze. She couldn't go and actually... talk to him! That would be like... she couldn't even imagine.

Mandel smiled at her. "You'll have to walk. I don't want to bring Entei in there with the crowd pressed so tightly. Don't worry! You've already talked with the Evenstar, and he is one of your own kind. It should be a breeze!"

She nodded dumbly, and stood there clutching at Entei's mane. Right. Just go talk to him... She turned around, and discovered that while she was thinking about it, the new King Elessar had taken the decision out of her hands.

He was beautiful, in a way completely different from Mandel and the other elves she had seen. It was a beauty of strength, the look of a man who commands because he has been through this before and his greatest power is the giving of hope, that people will indeed live to see tomorrow. She reached out her hand tentatively, and almost passed out when he took it, squeezed it gently, and inclined his head to her. Arwen was whispering in his ear in Elvish, explaining something, and Mandel added a few words as well. Just when the frustration of not knowing the language they all were speaking was about to overwhelm her, the king turned to her and, looking in her eyes and hers alone, said, "Thank you. I am glad that you came today, for it always pleases me to see that my people are well, especially now that we have come through the Shadow and can begin our lived without its influence. What you have done for Mandel I feel as if you have done it for myself, and I thank you accordingly." Here he released Arwen's hand and wrapped his arms around Alva's trembling body. "Hannon le," he whispered in her ear, and then released her. He smiled at her again, a beautiful, generous thing, before he was forced to move on and greet the rest of his countrymen. Arwen paused a moment and smiled as she touched Alva's arm and repeated heartfeltly, "Hannon le."

Stunned, Alva leaned back against Entei and was grateful that the horse stood as still as a stone because she didn't think she could hold her own weight at the moment. Mandel reached down and touched her shoulder. She reached her hand up and placed it over his.

"Ready to go home?"

Home... "Yes," she said.

-o-

A loud knocking dragged Sówen out of the kitchen and to the front door of her house, on the third level of the White City. "Yes, yes, what is it?" she asked in an annoyed voice before she looked up at who was standing there. But she did look up eventually, and she had to look again before she said in a wondering voice, "Alva?"

Alva smiled. "Yes, it's me. I... um, I could use a place to stay for a little while. If it's all right." Her expression was tentative; Sówen might have been her best friend when they were children, but she hadn't seen the other girl in the longest time.

Having resolved her surprise, Sówen let out a joyful laugh and stepped out the door and wrapped her friend in a hug. "It's been forever since I've seen you Alva! Of course you can stay, as long as you need." She released Alva and took a step back, looking at her intently. "Is it Gomthail?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Alva replied. "And no, too. I'll tell you all about it later, if you like." She smiled.

"Alright, alright," Sówen patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. "Well, come on in. Just one question, Alva dear..."

"Yes?"

"Is he staying too?" Sówen raised an eyebrow in the direction of Mandel, seated on Entei just behind her.

Alva looked at them. "Let me ask," she said softly.

Going up to Entei, she placed her hands on the horse's shoulder and stroked him gently. He whickered, and, turning his head, bumped her shoulder with his nose. She laughed quietly and petted his nose, marveling at the softness of his skin. "I suppose you'll be going then." It wasn't really a question, but it would not have qualified as a statement either, and she didn't look at Mandel when she said it.

"Yes, I think I shall be."

She nodded, and took a deep breath.

Smiling down at her, he slid down from the horse's back. "He's staying with you, though."

Alva looked up in surprise. "But..." But she lay her hand on Entei's nose and felt him breathing, and she couldn't think of any protest.

Mandel laughed softly. "It's his decision, not mine to make. This is also for you," he said, holding out a small object to her. "I saw you take all your things from the house, but you missed this. It was in my room." She looked down at the carved piece of wood in her hand. Running her fingers over the little carved man, she felt where the owner's name was cut into the bottom of it, tracing the outline of the name "Althail." Mandel touched her cheek, and it was only then she realized she had tears in her eyes. "Thank you," he said. "For everything."

Alva laughed loudly, and even to her her voice sounded slightly hysterical. "Me? No, thank you Mandel." She liked her lips, tasting the strange word, and said, "Hannon le Mandel. Hannon le." And she threw her arms around him.

He hugged her back, and then kissed her softly on the forehead. Another elf appeared out of a shadow leading a horse, and Mandel mounted it rather than walk back to the citadel. He turned once, and raised his hand in farewell.

Alva returned the gesture. She clutched the wooden toy. "Hope..." she whispered, to herself more than anyone else. "I will never give up hope."

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Sówen asked.

Alva smiled at her. "Oh, no. Just thinking."

"Well enough thinking! I'm thinking that there is one heck of a story in all this, and if you don't tell me the whole thing I just might have to kick you out."

"Can't have that!" Alva's warm smile dissolved into a mischievous grin. "But first thing's first. Let's get Entei inside somewhere and out of the street." She took hold of the horse's forelock and lead him toward the stable. He followed contentedly, while Sówen watched amazed. She hurried to catch up and opened the door for Alva, and as the door shut behind them Alva could feel it shutting out her old life as her new life stretched out behind her eyes like the traveler's maps she had poured over as a child. The possibilities were endless, and hope once again beat in her heart.

-The End-

Elvish translations -
hannon le - thank you
mellon-nín - my friend
Undómiel - Evenstar (Arwen's name, given because she is the last born of her people)
Estel - Hope (Aragorn's name as a child in Rivendell)
Elessar - Elfstone (name given to Aragorn)
Illúvatar - literally "father of all," aka God