There is quite a bit of Elvish in this story. It is a mixture of Sindarin and Grey Company. All of it should be italicized and the translations are in parenthesis just after the Elvish words. Phrases used frequently will only be translated once or twice.
Aragorn, named Estel (Hope) by their foster father, was only two when he came to Rivendell. His mother had brought him after the death of his father, hoping to secret the last descendant of Elendil from the eye of Sauron. Elrond had quickly warmed to him, becoming like a father to the child. Aragorn was a quiet child but he was full of intelligence and mischief. Morithawen loved her foster brother a great deal and when she was home in Rivendell often spent most of her time with the young child. He seemed to enjoy helping her in the records' room. Between herself and Elrond, the boy had learned to read at an early age. When Mori returned from Erebor, Aragorn was eleven years old and she had not seen him in almost a year. She never let herself dwell on the boy's quick growth. She would have to deal with his mortality all too soon.
After catching Elrond up on the events at the Lonely Mountain, Elrond told Morithawen why he had called her home. Morithawen was shocked to learn that Elrond wanted her to become a sort of mentor to Aragorn.
"I do not want to reveal his birthright to him until he is of age, but he will need all the knowledge we can give him so that he might be a wise man, one who can make decisions for himself and for others. He needs to know history, languages, politics and economics. I would love to teach him all these things, Morithawen, but my time is limited. As Kiirar, you will be able to teach him while doing your job. When you travel, take him with you. You have learned much in the Mirkwood that most of my people here at Imladris do not know of tracking and the strange creatures that live in the land. Teach him those things as well," Elrond said. Mori nodded but she felt the responsibility weigh heavily on her spirit. She had foreseen that Aragorn would one day be a great man and that the fate of Middle Earth would depend greatly on his decisions.
The next ten years were a delight for Morithawen. Aragorn was incredibly bright, even for a mortal, and he soaked up her teaching like a sponge. He quickly became her greatest help in the records' room, making her work go twice as fast. It left them both free to explore the world to a certain degree and for him to learn fighting skills. It was in Aragorn's sixteenth year that she took him to Mirkwood. It was like a homecoming for her.
"Morithawen! Cormamin lindua ele lle. Nae saian luume' (My heart sings to see thee. It has been too long)," said Legolas when he helped her from her horse. She laughed happily and let him swing her around a couple of times before putting her down. It was only then that Legolas took notice of the young man dismounting behind Morithawen. His eyes were wide with curiosity as he took in the Elvenking's palace. He had all of Mori's stories to prepare him for the sight but it was still something to behold.
"Mae govennen, Estel. Morithawen has spoken of you often in her letters. Creoso (Welcome)," Legolas said. Aragorn found his manners quickly, giving Legolas a shallow bow.
"Mae govennen, Legolas. Saesa omentien lle (Pleasure meeting you). Morithawen has spoken of you, as well. You home is so different from Rivendell and I cannot wait to explore the halls of the palace," he said with a wide grin. Legolas looked sharply at Morithawen. She just smiled and nodded. As long as Legolas was with them, she could endure a long tour of the palace. As they moved towards the entrance hall, Legolas explained to them both that Thranduil was in the middle of a counsel and would attend them later. And so he took them on a whirlwind tour of the palace and it's gardens. Morithawen, familiar with it all, was able to observe both Legolas and her foster brother.
Legolas was usually rather wary around men as a rule, but he treated her brother like a honored guest in his home. The Elf knew all about Aragorn. She had spoken often of him in letters. She valued Legolas' advice on the education of her brother. He seemed extremely interested in the man's tracking and fighting skills. Aragorn was extremely fond of blades. Without the keen eye of the elves, he would never measure up as a bowmen. At least not in his own eyes. Morithawen knew that he was a marksman compared to many of his own people, but Aragorn compared himself to the elves, not to men. His skill with a sword was stunning. That was actually Elrond and Elrohir's doing. With their teaching and Aragorn's dedicated practice, he could almost best Morithawen on the sparing field. Not that Morithawen was anywhere near an expert with a longer blade. Give her a dagger or a dirk and she was in her element. But she had enough swordskill to judge her brother by and she knew that in a few more years he was going to be quite the swordsman.
"…with your sister's blessing I would like to take you into the Mirkwood in a few days time. I'd like to show you a few things," Legolas was saying. Aragorn glanced back at Mori with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. She laughed.
"He has done nothing else but beg me to let him loose in the Mirkwood to 'prove' himself, Legolas. He does not quite understand the difference between knowledge and experience, methinks. I would be honored if you would take him on a journey. It would actually be an excuse for me to escape to Dale for a time. King Bard has requested my presence to help set up the records' room in his new palace," Morithawen said with a nod. Legolas nodded happily and turned back to Aragorn, starting to make plans for their journey. Morithawen smiled as she watched the seedling of a new friendship begin to grow.
Five years later, in Rivendell…
"Arwen! Vedui' muinthel," Morithawen said happily. Arwen, another of her foster siblings, had just returned from a long stay with her grandmother in Lorien. Truth be told, Arwen had been away from Rivendell for almost fifty years. Morithawen missed her sister. They had never been extremely close, but Arwen was always kind to her. The daughter of Elrond and Celebrian was most beautiful and Evenstar, the necklace that held a glimmer of her essence, shone brightly. They embraced and spoke at length before Arwen excused herself to go out among the woods of Imladris. She had missed her home.
"Morithawen." The quiet address was full of joy and she turned to see Aragorn standing in front of her. The light in his eyes told her what she needed to know. Elrond had finally told him of his birthright. She had known that it would happen soon. Elrond had warned her. She sighed softly and led him into an alcove.
"You find joy in the knowing?" she asked. The young man was quiet but he nodded. She relaxed a little bit and took his shoulders in her hands.
"You will make a strong, wise king, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, should the Shadow be defeated and Gondor receives you. I shall evermore call you Estel, for you are the only Hope for the kingdom of Men. I'm sure father has told you to guard your true name closely. There are those that would kill you for it," she said quietly, not hoping to diminish his excitement but wanting only to instill in him a wariness against pride. She need not have worried.
"He did indeed, muinthel. Do not fear for me. I will not do anything until the time is right," he said quietly. She smiled and watched him walk away from her towards the woods of Imladris, singing softly to himself. She recognized the Lay of Luthien easily and her smile faded as a foreseeing came to her unbidden. She almost ran after him then, but she held herself still. The meeting of Aragorn and Arwen was about to take place and in that meeting she knew was both hope and despair. She turned and moved quickly to her quarters. She needed time to think on things.
Back to the present…
"Morithawen, it makes me glad to see you so happy," Aragorn said softly. Morithawen touched his cheek gently and smiled.
"Nothing can temper my joy today, Estel. He loves me."
"I have always known there was an affection between the two of you, Mori, but I never suspected a love that would drive you to grief. It relieves me that your light has been restored," he said tenderly. She sighed softly and reached up to touched the jewel that he wore around his neck lightly.
"Should this relieve me, Estel? She has pledged the light of the Evenstar to you. Long has your love for her been a driving force in your personal quest to prove your worth in both her eyes and those of our Lord Elrond."
"And she finds me worthy at last," he said with a weary sigh.
"But you do not feel that worth," she stated softly.
"She would give up her immortality for me, Morithawen. I feel both deeply moved to joy and to horror. That she should come to grief or death…" he trailed off, choked up with his conflicting emotions.
"The choice is hers, Estel. Do not cheapen her gift by questioning her devotion to you. She counts a mortal lifetime with you as greater than the promise of Valinor. I would do the same for one I loved," she said quietly. Aragorn looked up at her in amazement.
"Would you?"
"Were the few precious moments I have spent with Legolas this last week my last, I would die happy, Estel," she said softly. Aragorn gazed at her for a long time before leaning in to kiss her forehead.
"I will bring him back to you, Morithawen, if it is in my power to do so," he said. She smiled wryly.
"May the Valar protect you, Estel, for the hope of Men lies in your hands. As for Legolas, leave his protection to the Valar, himself and to me. I am coming with you for a ways," she said. Aragorn stepped back in shock.
"Morithawen, no," he said sharply. She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Be still, Estel. I only journey with you as far as Lothlorien," she said calmly. He looked puzzled.
"We do not travel to Lorien," he said. She smiled a bit.
"I will turn towards Lorien at the appointed time, Estel. Does my presence on this journey trouble you so, muindor? I do not wish to travel beyond Lothlorien. I have business there. And I will be able to chronicle your quest as far as I go," she said. Aragorn frowned.
"It is not your presence that worries me, Mori. I would be glad of your eyes, your ears and your knowledge. It is just…the Ring," he said, his voice hushing to a whisper. She gripped his arms and looked into his eyes.
"The Ring concerns me, yes, but not as it concerns you. It cannot whisper corruption in my ears, Estel, not that I would listen to. But my presence on this quest is needed. Trust me in that, at least," she said quietly. His sharp eyes studied her face.
"What have you foreseen, muinthel?"
"Leave it, Estel. Time will reveal all that you need to know," she said sternly. He sighed.
"Does Legolas know?"
"Yes."
"And his reaction?"
"He has asked that I reconsider my plans, but he accepts that I will do what I think is right. He trusts me. For that I am eternally grateful. Now, the reason I came to you was to ask you to be certain to attend dinner this evening. Legolas and I have an announcement to make," she said quietly. Aragorn looked at her for a moment and then his mouth curved into a wide smile.
"I will be there, muinthel. I would not miss the announcement of your betrothal," he said with a joyous laugh. He picked Morithawen up and swung her around happily. She couldn't hold back a laugh of her own. Her joy was begging to burst forth and she saw no reason to stop it. There would be time enough for calm, somber reflection later.
Morithawen slipped the rust colored silk shirt over her head and adjusted the ribbons that laced it closed down the front. Over that went her golden brown suede jerkin and her black forearm bracers, then her quiver strap. She slipped her black boots on over the rust colored leggings and laced them up the back tightly. Over the whole ensemble went a cloak the color of the forest in late autumn, a shifting multitude of rust, gold and greens that seemed to change subtly as if ruffled by a pleasant breeze. It had been her mother's and the making of the cloth was a mystery, even to Lord Elrond's best seamstresses. The cloak brooch was the red-gold sun of her people inlaid with a rust hued quill that bespoke of her office as Kiirar.
"Lle naa vanima, A'maelamin (You are beautiful, my beloved)."
Morithawen turned to smile at Legolas. He was seated on her bed, legs folded under him, sorting through her weapons. She reached for her knife case and winked at her betrothed before she began to slip the small, sharp weapons into their various sheaths about her body. Legolas watched this process with bright, curious eyes. They widened a couple of times.
"That is rather clever. I never would have thought to put a knife there," he said in an impressed tone. She chuckled.
"All it takes is a few clever folds of cloth and only the boldest inspector will find it," she said. Legolas nodded and tilted his head.
"Eighteen knives. I didn't think it possible without something seeming obvious," he said with a shake of his long blond hair. Morithawen reached for her belt then and grinned.
"Tell no one what you know, my betrothed. You are the only one to know my best guarded secrets. As for obvious, that's what the white knife and bow are for. It draws the attention away from any not-so-obvious hiding places," she said. The belt had another eight small knives along the back of it, easily hidden by her cloak. The only knife that was in plain sight was a single, long white knife sheathed at her hip.
"Some help with my quiver, love?" she asked then. Legolas stood gracefully and moved to fasten her quiver to her back.
"Are you sure I cannot talk you into taking the High Pass to Lorien? We do not know what the Ring will attract on our quest," he said, giving her one last chance to change her mind. She shook her head and turned to look at him, a tender smile on her face.
"Call it my excuse to spend a few weeks with you, Legolas. There is no way to tell how long this quest will last and I treasure each second with you, even if we spend it focused on the danger around us. Just being near you will be a joy, even if we end up in battle together," she said quietly. He reached out to touch her face and she turned her face to kiss his fingers.
"I pray that we do not have to worry about battle so soon on our journey. Doubtless the servants of Sauron will bring forces against us before the end, but by the Valar, I hope to avoid the battle as long as possible," he said. She nodded her agreement and welcomed his tender kiss before she took her small pack from the bed and they left her bedroom to go and join the rest of the Fellowship.
"Aragorn, what is the meaning of this? A female has no business on this journey. We'll have enough trouble keeping the hobbits out of trouble," Boromir said during the second day of walking. Aragorn looked up with one eyebrow raised. He had noticed Boromir's tendency to stare at Morithawen. He was familiar enough with his own race to see the awe in Boromir's eyes, along with the contempt that he felt having a delicate looking female on the journey. He had a lot to learn about the elves.
"Truth be told, Boromir, I am glad of her presence. Do not underestimate her. You need not sit up during her watch. She is quite capable. The white knife is not for decoration, my friend. Not to mention she is nearly as good a marksman as Legolas," he said, throwing a glance back at Morithawen. She was walking with Frodo and Gandalf, chatting. There were times that Aragorn was amazed by how much Morithawen talked. She was one of the most talkative elves he had ever had the privilege of knowing. Granted that didn't make her terribly chatty, but she wasn't as reserved as say, Legolas, around other races.
"If you say so, Aragorn, but I will still feel better when she turns north at the Gap of Rohan," the other man said darkly. Aragorn just sighed and left the conversation alone. Morithawen could hold her own, of that he wasn't worried. He just hoped she didn't have any occasion to demonstrate her talents to Boromir before she turned towards Lorien. Unfortunately, the occasion did present itself a few days later.
Aragorn had found a shallow cave for them to camp in for the night. Legolas and Aragorn, both knowing of Morithawen's distaste for small, enclosed places, easily relinquished their watches to Morithawen. Boromir noticed the switch and watched as Morithawen took an apple and left the cave after exchanging a tender look with Legolas. After that Legolas settled back with his arms crossed over his chest and went into the motionless, open-eyed rest of the elves. Boromir then watched Aragorn wrap himself up in blankets and almost immediately start snoring softly. Gandalf was also asleep as far as he could tell. The hobbits were all whispering amongst themselves but they didn't seem distressed. He couldn't believe that they could feel comfortable enough to sleep with a woman on watch. Despite Aragorn's words, what he knew of Elf women tended towards beautiful and delicate. He fumed as he pulled off the heaviest of his gear, laying aside his sword, shield and cloak. Then he went out of the cave on quiet feet.
Morithawen sat crosslegged on a boulder that was strategically located so that she could see both directions down the path they were taking through the foothills of the Misty Mountains. Her back was to the cave entrance, which was several meters away, but she heard Boromir follow her. She paid him no heed. If he wished to worry himself over her skills or the lack of them, it was his own problem. She pulled one of her knives and used it to cut herself a piece of apple as she sang softly to the moon.
Boromir couldn't believe it. She was sitting on top of that rock singing as if she didn't have a care in the world. He was about to say something to her when he noticed that her back went ramrod straight and she stopped her singing. At first he thought she must have just noticed he was there, but he could discern the curious tilt of her head in the moonlight, as if she was listening for something in the distance. He paused, straining his ears. It was almost a full minute before he heard what it was that had made her pause.
Morithawen carefully tucked away her apple and pulled another small knife from the back of her belt. She flipped both knifes a couple of times and waited. She heard Boromir go still at the foot of her perch and knew the exact moment that he realized there were goblins headed towards them on the pass. It was easy to tell because he scrambled away from the boulder with impressive sped, all the while yelling at her to get to the cave. She sighed as the steps of the two goblin scouts sped up at the sound of Boromir's cry.
"Orcs! There are orcs on the pass," Boromir said as he sprinted back into the cave to grab his sword. That was enough to rouse everyone except the hobbits. He didn't let that worry him. Let Gandalf wake them up. He had to go defend the Fellowship. He noticed Aragorn leaping to his feet, sword in hand and he wasn't surprised to see Legolas dart out of the cave even before he did. They all ran out onto the pass, expecting to find a large party of goblins marching towards them. What they actually saw was a little different.
Morithawen bent over the two scouts, pulling her knives from their throats and carefully cleaning them on the rags that the goblins counted for clothes. She turned her head to look at the gathering of men and elf, the moonlight shimmering down her multitude of red-gold braids to create a soft light. Her eyes were like bright amber flames in the dark.
"Two scouts. From their grumblings about not having eaten in two days, I'd say we are safe from any large party for now," she said quietly. Gimli, who was just now arriving with his axe in hand, grumbled.
"You woke us up for two dead orcs, Boromir? Next time, just let me sleep," he said before tramping back to the cave. Aragorn turned to Boromir with a look of exasperation.
"Boromir, help Morithawen do something with the bodies and then come to bed. She will alert us if more trouble comes," he said. Boromir nodded to acknowledge that he had heard, but his eyes were still on Morithawen and the two dead orcs. He saw Legolas walk over and inspect one of the bodies before he and Morithawen spoke quietly to one another in Elvish. Legolas touched her cheek gently before he joined Aragorn again and they both went back to the cave. Gandalf met them at the entrance and was quickly put at ease. Boromir finally walked over to Morithawen. He looked from her previous perch to the orcs, judging the distance to be a good twenty meters.
"Help me drag these things off the pass, Boromir. There is a small ravine about twenty meters to the left," Morithawen said quietly, looking at him with those bright eyes. Boromir couldn't meet her eyes for long. Nothing else was said as they grabbed the bodies and dragged them off the pass. He tried not to notice that Morithawen strained less than he did in moving the carcasses. After that he made himself go back into the cave and lie down. His rest was troubled, however, by the image of Morithawen's eyes, full of amusement and pity, burned into his brain.
To be continued...