Warning: Very long chapter, with lots of jumping around, but I wanted to finish the story so I could move onto the sequel which will hopefully answer all un-answered questions.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: The End is the Beginning (Pt.1)
The End Is Where We Start From
What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning
The end is where we start from. And every phrase
And sentence that is right (where every word is at home
Taking its place to support the others.
The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,
An easy commerce of the old and the new,
The common word without vulgarity,
The formal word precise but not pedantic,
The complete consort dancing together).
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we star.
We die with the dying:
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.
The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration. A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now and England.
-T. S. Eliot
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Ithilien
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Menepaurion gazed up at the beautiful summer sky, its bright orb mocking his dark mood. The mood a result of not one night of restful sleep for three months. Rhiannon and Legolas were not exactly happy with each other at the current moment and life in the newly re-settled Ithilien was turning into a very chaotic experience. There had not been one night since the elves had been here that Legolas and Rhiannon had not engaged in some type of argument. This fair land was supposed to be a refuge for them. It was not turning out to be so. Menepaurion spoke to nature, having no one else to complain to,
"I was hoping for a moment of peace and quiet, a few months without yelling or slamming doors or futile fights and yet, here I am, living with just that."
Nature's answer was silent; yet he was hopeful. Rhiannon had been wishing to go back to Eryn Lasgalen ever since they arrived in Ithilien. She missed her brother, had not seen him in fact since she had left Gondor with Elrond's company. She also missed the King of the Woodland Realm, whom she had formed a strong kinship with after only a few days. However, they had left from Imladris making a straight course towards Ithilien and had not stopped in the lands of Legolas' father. In fact, Legolas had been avoiding the Kingdom of the Wood like the plague. He had sent a messenger to collect the elves that wished to settle here. It made Menepaurion wonder what the prince had to fear. Perhaps his father insisting on a wedding ceremony and a grandchild. Thranduil really was a softie. One just had to break through his lovely jewel-encrusted shell.
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Ithilien, Rhiannon was torn in this beautiful land.
However, it was a tear on her heart, to be so close to the borders of her own homeland and yet so far. The physical relationship between Legolas and herself had deepened greatly, however there was still a large amount of doubt between the two, mostly caused by the hidden secrets between them. Parts of the past they were not ready to tell, to reveal, to share. Amazing how you can be such a part of someone and yet so far away from them. The closer they came together, the farther they came apart. Torn in coming here, she had much more preferred to live in Eryn Lasgalen with the King, in the caves than in the land of Men. Spend a few months in Middle-Earth and adopt the snobbish elf attitude. Rhiannon shook her head. Ithilien was now a land of elves, was it not? She did not feel comfortable here, it was not home. The land still cried from the torture it had borne witness to for so long. Danger still lay in wait in the surrounding woods and deceptively open plains. Something about the land suffocated her and she had no doubt she would breath freer under rock than up here in the open air. She searched the skyline, watching as the birds flew free to where their hearts lay, singing songs of contentment she could not touch. Rhiannon curled up and rested her head on her knees. She needed her family. She had never felt the pang of homesickness so much before. She just HAD to go see her brother; Legolas would be hurt if she left so soon. He was so proud of the small gathering of elves he was ruling over. Surely he had done wonders with the land. Rhiannon just could not be here, not now. Morosely she pulled herself up and made her way towards Legolas' dwelling, laughing at the sudden downpour, the sky reflecting her tormented spirit.
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Ithilien. Legolas felt a peace settle over him in this land. As close to the sea as it was, the longing always felt stifled in this newly replenished land. Yet some longings were far from stifled. Rhiannon was withdrawing from him; if she was full elf he would claim she was showing the first stages of fading. Perhaps he should have permitted a stop to see his father. Legolas often forgot Middle Earth was not the true home of Rhiannon; he forgot that the sea which called for him also called her home. The farther away they traveled from Imladris, the more short-tempered Rhiannon had become. She had taken to wandering much of Ithilien on her own, climbing small hills and staring off into the horizon for hours. She was looking for something, waiting. He wished he knew what it was. The majority of her mind was closed off to him. She had not shut him out fully; no, she would never do that. Legolas was being forced to realize he was tied to a person he knew little about. His mother's diary stated Rhiannon was a person of intense privacy and contemplation. More often than not it was best to leave her alone and let her brood.
Legolas was not used to being so passive. When someone around him hurt he wished to do all he could to assuage that pain. Legolas surveyed the dining table he now sat at. There were no official place rankings, people sat where they felt the need to. Rhiannon, perhaps in a bit of revelation of her life, made a comment about Knights and Round Tables once…whatever that meant. Rhiannon now sat between two elven ladies, politely listening to their conversation but not truly engaged. Her eyes kept straying to the open windows. Legolas shook his head,
"What am I to do with you?"
"Perhaps let her go to her brother as she so obviously wishes."
Legolas visibly jumped at Menepaurion's condescending tone. The elf was as brash as they came.
"Do you enjoy just sneaking up on people like that? Don't you know it is one way to get yourself killed?"
"Good thing I'm no longer a soldier." Menepaurion followed Legolas' gaze. "She's homesick. And since she can not return to her real home out of her duty to you; and she can not stay in Imladris also out of her duty to you; and can not go to your father because of her…"
"Duty to me. Yes, I understand your point. She won't leave here until I assure her it is alright to leave and she will not be content until she is around something she associates as home. Am I not allowed to feel the least bit annoyed she does feel I am home to her? My soul is entwined with her after all."
Menepaurion let out a small laugh, "Charming princeling you may be, you seem not to realize souls and hearts are two very different things. Two overly-cautious people with two very guarded hearts should never be permitted to become soul bound. Then again, this is perhaps the reason you were chosen. Two very stubborn asses you are. She needs to talk to your father before she can tell you anything she truly feels?"
Legolas shook his head, "Why is that necessary?"
Menepaurion gave a secretive smile, "He has been where she will be. Really, he has been where you will be. Odd it seems how history enjoys repeating itself with your family. I suppose all will turn well in the end."
"Since when do you have the gift of foresight?" Legolas deadpanned.
"No foresight at all, my friend, for foresight has nothing to do with it. I look to the past which has been hidden from you. One I know well for my grandfather was a close friend to your own. My family has always played their part, as your family has always played its own, and the guardian's family has always played theirs."
"Guardian?"
"Nothing for you to worry about at this time. Will you let her go? I shall go with her. I fear we will be attending a wedding soon enough there anyway. Ugh, to think I will be related by law to Rhiannon. The horror."
"Stop, you love her as much as your sister. Admit it."
Menepaurion sniffed, "I may enjoy trading some barbs with her every now and then."
Legolas gave him a signature cynical look. The prince rolled his eyes and then finally nodded, "You may leave. But I expect you to come to Minas Tirith when I summon you. Elessar has planned an event to take place three years hence. You best be there and on time."
Menepaurion raised a wheat-gold eyebrow, "I am never tardy. And she won't be. Not on my watch."
"Good." Legolas was silent for some time. "Take care of her, please."
"You know I will. I have no desire to face the combined wrath of you and your father."
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Eryn Lasgalen, 1426, by Shire Reckoning
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Rhiannon found herself in a very familiar situation, sitting timidly in the personal office of King Thranduil, attempting to look out the very small and very high windows. Now that Brhagdan was wed and the celebrations had passed, she was sitting done for the long lecture she knew awaited her the moment she stepped foot inside Thranduil's realm. He had many years to compile all his complaints after all.
She stared down at her hands, lightly tracing the patterns which were painted into her skin, the color just now fading. She was happy for her brother, and yet unbelievably sad. In the end heart did become before family, and he would chose heart. The ceremony had been beautiful. Laurea had shined with an unnatural light, Brhagdan's eyes sparkled with good humor. Rhiannon regretted Cerethena's absence but knew the priestess had her own duties.
Thranduil sat at his desk studying Rhiannon. The young one showed little change in regards to her physical appearance, her soul, however, was darker than the norm.
"You are very uncertain about your future."
No response from the silent figure, sitting at attention in the high-backed chair. Thranduil's emerald eyes gleamed with a light most would find unnerving.
"I shall tell you a story, my little one. Tis about an archer of Greenwood and the little sprite he found. One day, a young archer was wandering through the woods near his father's garden. This elf was barely past his majority and was hiding from all the mothers who wished to push their eligible daughters onto his person. He knew he would not give into their wishes, for this elf was determined to wait for love and love alone. If he never found such a priceless gift, then he was determined to spend his life alone. This arrogant elf would only settle for the very best, of course.
While walking in the woods his eyes were captivated by a being glowing with light. He had often heard tales of the maiden who wandered in the woods, but never believed such childish folly. Yet, here, before his very eyes stood a maiden encompassed in pale light. The longer he stared, the more warmth infused his being and the more infatuated he became with this maiden. Everything of her was a beautiful lightness; her hair, her skin, her eyes. The archer knew he had found love, in that very moment his soul called out to this light. He made to move towards her, not wanting to startle this vision away, when one misstep caused him to snap a twig, quite an embarrassment for a woodland archer. The maiden turned towards him, and as opposed to running away like a startled doe, she met his gaze straight on and the air around seemed to cackle. Her gaze spoke of wit and intelligence, challenge and intrigue. She spoke to him in a laughing tone,
"Are you mute, rude, or awed? It does neither one of us good to stand there with your mouth gaping. Come, tell me your name."
The archer did. She laughed. "Are you not a little far from your Ivory Tower?"
The archer was confused by this reference and questioned the being about what she meant.
"Silly archer," she replied, "Surely you can tell I am not of this land. Not wholly at least. I only come here to rest and visit with my mother."
By this point the archer had no idea what he was dealing with, except that this maiden was not an elf. He left the woods that day, asking if he could meet the maiden again some time. She told him to come to the woods at the same time every week and that would be their time of meeting.
For many years the two kept up with their secretive correspondence. Neither one was keen to let the whole kingdom know of their blooming relationship. The archer knew this was the one he had waited for.
All was well until one day the archer was sent off to war. He left with a large company, including his father. He returned, a broken and bruised soul, fatherless, brotherless, and with very few of his comrades. He returned to a wood stuck deep in mourning. He could find no warmth or light. He went to the woods to find his maiden of light, to seek her warmth and her reassurances. When he found her, she simply opened her arms. He rushed into them and wept for all her had lost, begging her to never leave him; this one being he held all the happiness and joy he had left. The archer was determined to keep his lady of light to him for all time, and finally asked for her hand in marriage. She agreed and for a very long while they lived in utter happiness raising their children. Her last gift to him was a bundle of light named Legolas.
His maiden had a duty, one which her people had served from the beginning of time and would always continue to serve. She could not, in good conscious, abandon her duty. She could not stay in her beloved Ivory Tower while the world outside went on, needing her power and protection. For she was a Guardian. An ancient sect of people chosen to guide the movement of all worlds.
Her archer was bitterly forced to let her go. But he understood, knowing she did not wish to leave him. She had to. She promised to him she would return as soon as her duty was finished. And he held her to that, as he always will. He loved her so much, in fact, he knew he had to let her go. You, my dear one, will have to do this."
Realization dawned on Rhiannon as she listened to the end of Thranduil's story,
"You did not let her return. She was ready to return and you forbid it."
"Yes, I did not want the darkness to consume her warm light Dol Guldur would have destroyed her. She understood my reasoning, despite the pain we both knew it would cause."
"The shadow is gone now. Why does she not….she can not travel to Aman."
"Correct once again, my little one. To leave this land, and to cut ties with the outer realms, would destroy everything she knows and stands for. She is a guardian and will not forsake such a lofty position. She needs to guide those special souls on their journey through life until one has been trained enough to take her place. Even then I doubt she could leave all of this which she knows."
"What about your future, my king, what shall you do?"
"I have already vowed never to leave these lands until she has returned and to that vow I will always hold. Once she returns we shall remain here, fading with the earth we love so much if that should be the course of this existence. I myself can not forsake these lands. Few of my people can. We are Wood Elves; we have lived under these eves for ages. We have died defending this wood. Our blood and ashes have sunk into this soul and breathed immortal life into all that surrounds us. No, my dear Rhiannon, I can never leave a place so inter-twined with my very own being and I will not abandon my people who choose to remain."
"I admire you greatly, Thranduil, despite what many may have said you have one of the purest and strongest flames I have ever seen."
"I am just the most stubborn of all elves that have lived."
"Ah, yes. But you are also a strong and wise one, and for that I admire you."
"You will one day understand this, my young one, for you shall become what I now am."
"I know, my Lord."
"Do you still fear the future?"
"No, my Lord. I embrace the unknown path before me, wherever it shall lead, no matter how hard it shall become."
"Will you hesitate with telling my son?"
"No longer shall I hesitate, my Lord."
"You have finally learned something. Welcome to Knowledge. You shall now experience great levels of harshness and pain, for now you shall no longer dwell in that bliss they call ignorance."
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Rhiannon and Menepaurion reluctantly left the Woodland king's company. They had a promise to Legolas to fulfill, and a birthing ceremony to attend. Neither was happy, but they both knew where there duty lay. They wished their siblings happiness in their marriage, promising to visit again as soon as they were able. Thranduil held significant looks with both Rhiannon and Menepaurion, knowing they both were charged with duties he had ordered them to fulfill. Rhiannon would have to have a long talk with Legolas, and Menepaurion had to make sure they didn't kill each other.
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Minas Tirith, 1426, by Shire Reckoning
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Legolas was delighted to be back in the company of the Fellowship; or at least those members who still dwelled in Arda. Rejoice was going through all the friends, the birth of Aragorn's third child was soon to occur. The King was already the father of two beautiful girls. Legolas had not dwelled in the capital of Gondor since the wedding of Elessar and Arwen. Now, for at least two years, he would dwell with his good friends. Frodo had long since passed over the Sea; Sam was too busy with things in the Shire and new little hobbits. It still amazed Legolas how fast the life of mortals changed when it was all nothing but a breath to him.
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She sat on one of the balconies of the 6th level of the city. She had once come here for peace, all those years ago, when Elessar, Legolas, Gimli and many others were at the Black Gates fighting. She remembered talking to Merry and spying on Faramir and Eowyn as they had their first meeting, the healing houses having driven them all to madness. It still amazed her how fast things changed in the mortal world; even to mortals it must have seemed as a blink of an eye. She was once told by a tutor, years and years ago, that the soul was like the earth; it weathered over time, but it took years for a significant change to occur. She had believed those words once, they had become her mantra. Now as she set huddled up on this stone balcony she knew this was far from the truth. It took a whole month to change her person significantly, one touch of a destined hand on her arm to change the course she had planned to hold to. She was not who she once was, no one was. She hated that with a passion. Life is never simple, destiny is not written in stone. She had said those same exact words to Elessar once, and here she sat in his city refusing to believe the words she once said.
"I'm such a child." she mumbled to the wind.
"You are far from it, in fact, I think you have matured greatly since the first time I met you." Rhiannon visibly jumped at the voice which had destroyed her private musings and moping. She threw Menepaurion a very convincing glare.
"Why exactly did you decide to journey with us north? Do you not have a place in Imladris to torture and annoy others?"
Menepaurion gave her an impish smile; she had never seen the elf look so young and charming. Elladan had been a good influence on him. Or a horrible one. She had yet to decide.
The golden elf sat himself next to her,
"While I may pass the time of my amusement in Imladris, my duty is to Legolas and Thranduil. Under Thranduil's rules I am to look after his son and his daughter-in-every-way-but-name-and blood. I had thought the Prince would have let us stay in Eryn Lasgalen for some time, seeing as how your brother and my sister are residing there. And since we are now a family, I am obligated to stay by your side."
"Are you also not obligated to serve me as I please?"
"Well, yes."
"Then it pleases me to be left alone."
"No, I am sorry. My obligation to the King still holds more sway then my obligation to you; he did offer a home to my family after all. The obligation says I am not allowed to let you mope and muse. It's bad for the face and bad for your relationship with the Prince. Musing does not carry over well into the bedchamber."
"MENEPAURION!"
"It's true. Once again, obligation to the King: grandchildren."
"He is very pushy for an elf."
"Pushy, lonely, wants the warmth that comes into the home with a young child."
"He may get that wish granted soon."
"Really?"
"Not from me you stupid orcish excuse of a Trojan Horse of an elf. That's what you are. The orc in elf clothing! I have finally figured it out."
"I was wondering who had been rifling through my wig and face paint collection."
The two shared a laugh, looking over the city.
"Do you remember what it looked like when we first came here, the gates fallen, black smoke all around, the hopelessness tangible and mixed with the ash in the air?"
"It would a take a blind fool to forget such a sight, and even then they would remember it. Estel has done wonders for this city. Amazing how much one city can change from one ruler to the next."
"Well, yes, the ruler change and that whole vanquishing of evil thing."
"Ah, yes, that."
"Menepaurion, when will you pass over the Sea?"
"I should expect when Legolas goes, although I may stay longer if I feel the need to. Thranduil and my people do not seem keen to leave these shores."
"No, they are not, their fates, more so than the other elves, are entwine with the yarn of Arda. I fear they would fade if they were not allowed to dwell under their beloved birches in their forest. This is paradise for them."
"Yes, Woodland kin truly feel the tie to this land. They always have, and they always shall."
"The elven blood needed to sustain Arda, the spirit of the elves; the Woodland kin will keep it flowing."
"I pray for that, but with times of peace during the rise of Men, I fear they will soon come to overtake our land, and claim they have the right to it."
A fierce fire rose in Rhiannon at those words. A protectiveness for the untainted holiness the elves had when it came to their land, a vow rose within her mind and passed out of her mouth before she even realized,
"I swear, by all I hold dear now and shall ever hold dear, that your Woodland kingdom will remain protected. I do not care how much energy I have to force into hidden boundaries, I will. There will come a time in the future, a time when darkness has returned, when elves will be needed once again." Rhiannon continued on, for once her visions of the future flowing out in words to Menepaurion, "It will be many years from now, millennia. Elves will be nothing but figments of the past, creatures of a childish and over-active mind. All the lessons learned on Arda will be forsaken and fade into the dust and ash that is the result of the burned passion of life and history. Yet the past will be needed to secure the future. And Greenwood will stand, and under her great boughs elves will still dwell, no matter how lost to the world of Men they have become."
"Have you had a vision, my lady?"
"Not exactly. I just know I will not leave the shores of my home land for many years to come. And in my solitude, my only hope will be to preserve the land of his people."
"You mean not to go with him?"
"I never had, I never promised to. Legolas gets weaker everyday he stays on these shores. I become stronger. We have little time left. We never did seem to have much time."
"Then why do you waste the precious time you have left dwelling on foolish doubts on these cold steps with me?"
"I lack in wit."
"Intelligence, possibly. Wit, never." Menepaurion stood up and held his hand out. "Come, you have an elf prince to talk to. If not of your far future, then what you plan to do in the next few years. If you then proceed to get drunk, wind up in bed together, become with child, and give birth to a male, then all problems will be solved."
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Ithilien, 1458, Shire Reckoning
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And here she sat in Ithilien, reminiscing on the long and drawn out lecture and lessons Thranduil had taught her on that evening in his office. She had promise not to hesitate, not to let her fear overwhelm her. Yet the minute she saw Legolas again all the fear came rushing back and she did hesitate. Rhiannon could never recall having broken a vow before, and she just had. Perhaps this was the knowledge Thranduil spoke of, every decision you make, all the action you either take or do not, has more impact that ever before. She let her mind drift back to those last words the King had spoken to her.
"You let fear run your life."
The soft whisper of the King of Mirkwood had been in her head for weeks now. He knew her fear, and knew she was thinking of leaving his son, the elf they both loved so much.
It was fear. But not of Legolas, never of him.
She feared his wrath; one she knew would once be brought on her. She had seen the future of their time together and had known it could only end in pain. And yet she did nothing to hinder the progress of her relationship with the Greenleaf.
Did that not show some courage?
Thranduil was correct, she knew he was. Her fear did run her life, and in the process was slowly ruining all the plans Legolas had set out for their relationship.
They were bonded in mind and spirit, was that not enough?
Why did he need a ceremony?
He said they had been bonded in the eyes of her gods, seeing as how it was her power that had put them in this situation. They had needed an official ceremony in front of his own gods, if just to prove to the people he now ruled that they were wed. He did not wish to have any child of his called a bastard.
She knew, had always known, she could not have an elven ceremony performed. Her fear ruled that. She would lose her last true part of herself; forsaking her own beliefs for those of his. Was it not enough that they just loved each other? Why did he need those words said in front of others that they did not truly know?
Was it not just a fear ruling his life?
Rhiannon bowed her head; she could not give him what he wanted. And that would be the storm cloud that would hover over the relationship for years.
Perhaps they were star-crossed. Perhaps it was all coincidence and nothing of fate. Fear did not rule her life; doubt did.
A new whisper from Thranduil started in her head; "Doubt and fear come from the same viper within your breast."
Rhiannon knew her time was running out, knew she was wasting the precious bits she had left. She had no heeded every warning that had been passed down to her. She would no longer waste it. And there, on that hill in Ithilien so reminiscent of the faery mounds of her home, Rhiannon made a vow to herself that she would never break. Legolas would know just how much she cared for him, and even if he left this realm doubting the authenticity of her spoken words and emotions, Rhiannon would not sped eternity wading in guilt, for she would know that she had told him the truth from her very soul.
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(Pt. 2 to come soon)
A/N: I apolgize for all the skipping around. Thank you Jouri for you unending support with my struggle through this story. Next part will be the ending. There will be a sequel, but since it will largely concern original characters, it will only be posted on my website (which you can access through my profile). On that page will also be the thank-you's for the story (since ff.net no longer let's you put up non-story chapters) and the "inspirations" page of Engima along with the "Engima Soundtrack" started ages ago from a comment made by Jen. Yes, I know it's alot of crap....but the story has been worked on for two years, you accquire a lot of crap this way. Also, I apologize for the insanely long delay. It's been a hard year of college, and I'm trying to get into History Honors, so I've need to devote a lot of time again. Once again, I apoligize for the wait.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: The End is the Beginning (Pt.1)
The End Is Where We Start From
What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning
The end is where we start from. And every phrase
And sentence that is right (where every word is at home
Taking its place to support the others.
The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,
An easy commerce of the old and the new,
The common word without vulgarity,
The formal word precise but not pedantic,
The complete consort dancing together).
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we star.
We die with the dying:
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.
The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration. A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now and England.
-T. S. Eliot
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Ithilien
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Menepaurion gazed up at the beautiful summer sky, its bright orb mocking his dark mood. The mood a result of not one night of restful sleep for three months. Rhiannon and Legolas were not exactly happy with each other at the current moment and life in the newly re-settled Ithilien was turning into a very chaotic experience. There had not been one night since the elves had been here that Legolas and Rhiannon had not engaged in some type of argument. This fair land was supposed to be a refuge for them. It was not turning out to be so. Menepaurion spoke to nature, having no one else to complain to,
"I was hoping for a moment of peace and quiet, a few months without yelling or slamming doors or futile fights and yet, here I am, living with just that."
Nature's answer was silent; yet he was hopeful. Rhiannon had been wishing to go back to Eryn Lasgalen ever since they arrived in Ithilien. She missed her brother, had not seen him in fact since she had left Gondor with Elrond's company. She also missed the King of the Woodland Realm, whom she had formed a strong kinship with after only a few days. However, they had left from Imladris making a straight course towards Ithilien and had not stopped in the lands of Legolas' father. In fact, Legolas had been avoiding the Kingdom of the Wood like the plague. He had sent a messenger to collect the elves that wished to settle here. It made Menepaurion wonder what the prince had to fear. Perhaps his father insisting on a wedding ceremony and a grandchild. Thranduil really was a softie. One just had to break through his lovely jewel-encrusted shell.
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Ithilien, Rhiannon was torn in this beautiful land.
However, it was a tear on her heart, to be so close to the borders of her own homeland and yet so far. The physical relationship between Legolas and herself had deepened greatly, however there was still a large amount of doubt between the two, mostly caused by the hidden secrets between them. Parts of the past they were not ready to tell, to reveal, to share. Amazing how you can be such a part of someone and yet so far away from them. The closer they came together, the farther they came apart. Torn in coming here, she had much more preferred to live in Eryn Lasgalen with the King, in the caves than in the land of Men. Spend a few months in Middle-Earth and adopt the snobbish elf attitude. Rhiannon shook her head. Ithilien was now a land of elves, was it not? She did not feel comfortable here, it was not home. The land still cried from the torture it had borne witness to for so long. Danger still lay in wait in the surrounding woods and deceptively open plains. Something about the land suffocated her and she had no doubt she would breath freer under rock than up here in the open air. She searched the skyline, watching as the birds flew free to where their hearts lay, singing songs of contentment she could not touch. Rhiannon curled up and rested her head on her knees. She needed her family. She had never felt the pang of homesickness so much before. She just HAD to go see her brother; Legolas would be hurt if she left so soon. He was so proud of the small gathering of elves he was ruling over. Surely he had done wonders with the land. Rhiannon just could not be here, not now. Morosely she pulled herself up and made her way towards Legolas' dwelling, laughing at the sudden downpour, the sky reflecting her tormented spirit.
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Ithilien. Legolas felt a peace settle over him in this land. As close to the sea as it was, the longing always felt stifled in this newly replenished land. Yet some longings were far from stifled. Rhiannon was withdrawing from him; if she was full elf he would claim she was showing the first stages of fading. Perhaps he should have permitted a stop to see his father. Legolas often forgot Middle Earth was not the true home of Rhiannon; he forgot that the sea which called for him also called her home. The farther away they traveled from Imladris, the more short-tempered Rhiannon had become. She had taken to wandering much of Ithilien on her own, climbing small hills and staring off into the horizon for hours. She was looking for something, waiting. He wished he knew what it was. The majority of her mind was closed off to him. She had not shut him out fully; no, she would never do that. Legolas was being forced to realize he was tied to a person he knew little about. His mother's diary stated Rhiannon was a person of intense privacy and contemplation. More often than not it was best to leave her alone and let her brood.
Legolas was not used to being so passive. When someone around him hurt he wished to do all he could to assuage that pain. Legolas surveyed the dining table he now sat at. There were no official place rankings, people sat where they felt the need to. Rhiannon, perhaps in a bit of revelation of her life, made a comment about Knights and Round Tables once…whatever that meant. Rhiannon now sat between two elven ladies, politely listening to their conversation but not truly engaged. Her eyes kept straying to the open windows. Legolas shook his head,
"What am I to do with you?"
"Perhaps let her go to her brother as she so obviously wishes."
Legolas visibly jumped at Menepaurion's condescending tone. The elf was as brash as they came.
"Do you enjoy just sneaking up on people like that? Don't you know it is one way to get yourself killed?"
"Good thing I'm no longer a soldier." Menepaurion followed Legolas' gaze. "She's homesick. And since she can not return to her real home out of her duty to you; and she can not stay in Imladris also out of her duty to you; and can not go to your father because of her…"
"Duty to me. Yes, I understand your point. She won't leave here until I assure her it is alright to leave and she will not be content until she is around something she associates as home. Am I not allowed to feel the least bit annoyed she does feel I am home to her? My soul is entwined with her after all."
Menepaurion let out a small laugh, "Charming princeling you may be, you seem not to realize souls and hearts are two very different things. Two overly-cautious people with two very guarded hearts should never be permitted to become soul bound. Then again, this is perhaps the reason you were chosen. Two very stubborn asses you are. She needs to talk to your father before she can tell you anything she truly feels?"
Legolas shook his head, "Why is that necessary?"
Menepaurion gave a secretive smile, "He has been where she will be. Really, he has been where you will be. Odd it seems how history enjoys repeating itself with your family. I suppose all will turn well in the end."
"Since when do you have the gift of foresight?" Legolas deadpanned.
"No foresight at all, my friend, for foresight has nothing to do with it. I look to the past which has been hidden from you. One I know well for my grandfather was a close friend to your own. My family has always played their part, as your family has always played its own, and the guardian's family has always played theirs."
"Guardian?"
"Nothing for you to worry about at this time. Will you let her go? I shall go with her. I fear we will be attending a wedding soon enough there anyway. Ugh, to think I will be related by law to Rhiannon. The horror."
"Stop, you love her as much as your sister. Admit it."
Menepaurion sniffed, "I may enjoy trading some barbs with her every now and then."
Legolas gave him a signature cynical look. The prince rolled his eyes and then finally nodded, "You may leave. But I expect you to come to Minas Tirith when I summon you. Elessar has planned an event to take place three years hence. You best be there and on time."
Menepaurion raised a wheat-gold eyebrow, "I am never tardy. And she won't be. Not on my watch."
"Good." Legolas was silent for some time. "Take care of her, please."
"You know I will. I have no desire to face the combined wrath of you and your father."
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Eryn Lasgalen, 1426, by Shire Reckoning
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Rhiannon found herself in a very familiar situation, sitting timidly in the personal office of King Thranduil, attempting to look out the very small and very high windows. Now that Brhagdan was wed and the celebrations had passed, she was sitting done for the long lecture she knew awaited her the moment she stepped foot inside Thranduil's realm. He had many years to compile all his complaints after all.
She stared down at her hands, lightly tracing the patterns which were painted into her skin, the color just now fading. She was happy for her brother, and yet unbelievably sad. In the end heart did become before family, and he would chose heart. The ceremony had been beautiful. Laurea had shined with an unnatural light, Brhagdan's eyes sparkled with good humor. Rhiannon regretted Cerethena's absence but knew the priestess had her own duties.
Thranduil sat at his desk studying Rhiannon. The young one showed little change in regards to her physical appearance, her soul, however, was darker than the norm.
"You are very uncertain about your future."
No response from the silent figure, sitting at attention in the high-backed chair. Thranduil's emerald eyes gleamed with a light most would find unnerving.
"I shall tell you a story, my little one. Tis about an archer of Greenwood and the little sprite he found. One day, a young archer was wandering through the woods near his father's garden. This elf was barely past his majority and was hiding from all the mothers who wished to push their eligible daughters onto his person. He knew he would not give into their wishes, for this elf was determined to wait for love and love alone. If he never found such a priceless gift, then he was determined to spend his life alone. This arrogant elf would only settle for the very best, of course.
While walking in the woods his eyes were captivated by a being glowing with light. He had often heard tales of the maiden who wandered in the woods, but never believed such childish folly. Yet, here, before his very eyes stood a maiden encompassed in pale light. The longer he stared, the more warmth infused his being and the more infatuated he became with this maiden. Everything of her was a beautiful lightness; her hair, her skin, her eyes. The archer knew he had found love, in that very moment his soul called out to this light. He made to move towards her, not wanting to startle this vision away, when one misstep caused him to snap a twig, quite an embarrassment for a woodland archer. The maiden turned towards him, and as opposed to running away like a startled doe, she met his gaze straight on and the air around seemed to cackle. Her gaze spoke of wit and intelligence, challenge and intrigue. She spoke to him in a laughing tone,
"Are you mute, rude, or awed? It does neither one of us good to stand there with your mouth gaping. Come, tell me your name."
The archer did. She laughed. "Are you not a little far from your Ivory Tower?"
The archer was confused by this reference and questioned the being about what she meant.
"Silly archer," she replied, "Surely you can tell I am not of this land. Not wholly at least. I only come here to rest and visit with my mother."
By this point the archer had no idea what he was dealing with, except that this maiden was not an elf. He left the woods that day, asking if he could meet the maiden again some time. She told him to come to the woods at the same time every week and that would be their time of meeting.
For many years the two kept up with their secretive correspondence. Neither one was keen to let the whole kingdom know of their blooming relationship. The archer knew this was the one he had waited for.
All was well until one day the archer was sent off to war. He left with a large company, including his father. He returned, a broken and bruised soul, fatherless, brotherless, and with very few of his comrades. He returned to a wood stuck deep in mourning. He could find no warmth or light. He went to the woods to find his maiden of light, to seek her warmth and her reassurances. When he found her, she simply opened her arms. He rushed into them and wept for all her had lost, begging her to never leave him; this one being he held all the happiness and joy he had left. The archer was determined to keep his lady of light to him for all time, and finally asked for her hand in marriage. She agreed and for a very long while they lived in utter happiness raising their children. Her last gift to him was a bundle of light named Legolas.
His maiden had a duty, one which her people had served from the beginning of time and would always continue to serve. She could not, in good conscious, abandon her duty. She could not stay in her beloved Ivory Tower while the world outside went on, needing her power and protection. For she was a Guardian. An ancient sect of people chosen to guide the movement of all worlds.
Her archer was bitterly forced to let her go. But he understood, knowing she did not wish to leave him. She had to. She promised to him she would return as soon as her duty was finished. And he held her to that, as he always will. He loved her so much, in fact, he knew he had to let her go. You, my dear one, will have to do this."
Realization dawned on Rhiannon as she listened to the end of Thranduil's story,
"You did not let her return. She was ready to return and you forbid it."
"Yes, I did not want the darkness to consume her warm light Dol Guldur would have destroyed her. She understood my reasoning, despite the pain we both knew it would cause."
"The shadow is gone now. Why does she not….she can not travel to Aman."
"Correct once again, my little one. To leave this land, and to cut ties with the outer realms, would destroy everything she knows and stands for. She is a guardian and will not forsake such a lofty position. She needs to guide those special souls on their journey through life until one has been trained enough to take her place. Even then I doubt she could leave all of this which she knows."
"What about your future, my king, what shall you do?"
"I have already vowed never to leave these lands until she has returned and to that vow I will always hold. Once she returns we shall remain here, fading with the earth we love so much if that should be the course of this existence. I myself can not forsake these lands. Few of my people can. We are Wood Elves; we have lived under these eves for ages. We have died defending this wood. Our blood and ashes have sunk into this soul and breathed immortal life into all that surrounds us. No, my dear Rhiannon, I can never leave a place so inter-twined with my very own being and I will not abandon my people who choose to remain."
"I admire you greatly, Thranduil, despite what many may have said you have one of the purest and strongest flames I have ever seen."
"I am just the most stubborn of all elves that have lived."
"Ah, yes. But you are also a strong and wise one, and for that I admire you."
"You will one day understand this, my young one, for you shall become what I now am."
"I know, my Lord."
"Do you still fear the future?"
"No, my Lord. I embrace the unknown path before me, wherever it shall lead, no matter how hard it shall become."
"Will you hesitate with telling my son?"
"No longer shall I hesitate, my Lord."
"You have finally learned something. Welcome to Knowledge. You shall now experience great levels of harshness and pain, for now you shall no longer dwell in that bliss they call ignorance."
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Rhiannon and Menepaurion reluctantly left the Woodland king's company. They had a promise to Legolas to fulfill, and a birthing ceremony to attend. Neither was happy, but they both knew where there duty lay. They wished their siblings happiness in their marriage, promising to visit again as soon as they were able. Thranduil held significant looks with both Rhiannon and Menepaurion, knowing they both were charged with duties he had ordered them to fulfill. Rhiannon would have to have a long talk with Legolas, and Menepaurion had to make sure they didn't kill each other.
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Minas Tirith, 1426, by Shire Reckoning
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Legolas was delighted to be back in the company of the Fellowship; or at least those members who still dwelled in Arda. Rejoice was going through all the friends, the birth of Aragorn's third child was soon to occur. The King was already the father of two beautiful girls. Legolas had not dwelled in the capital of Gondor since the wedding of Elessar and Arwen. Now, for at least two years, he would dwell with his good friends. Frodo had long since passed over the Sea; Sam was too busy with things in the Shire and new little hobbits. It still amazed Legolas how fast the life of mortals changed when it was all nothing but a breath to him.
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She sat on one of the balconies of the 6th level of the city. She had once come here for peace, all those years ago, when Elessar, Legolas, Gimli and many others were at the Black Gates fighting. She remembered talking to Merry and spying on Faramir and Eowyn as they had their first meeting, the healing houses having driven them all to madness. It still amazed her how fast things changed in the mortal world; even to mortals it must have seemed as a blink of an eye. She was once told by a tutor, years and years ago, that the soul was like the earth; it weathered over time, but it took years for a significant change to occur. She had believed those words once, they had become her mantra. Now as she set huddled up on this stone balcony she knew this was far from the truth. It took a whole month to change her person significantly, one touch of a destined hand on her arm to change the course she had planned to hold to. She was not who she once was, no one was. She hated that with a passion. Life is never simple, destiny is not written in stone. She had said those same exact words to Elessar once, and here she sat in his city refusing to believe the words she once said.
"I'm such a child." she mumbled to the wind.
"You are far from it, in fact, I think you have matured greatly since the first time I met you." Rhiannon visibly jumped at the voice which had destroyed her private musings and moping. She threw Menepaurion a very convincing glare.
"Why exactly did you decide to journey with us north? Do you not have a place in Imladris to torture and annoy others?"
Menepaurion gave her an impish smile; she had never seen the elf look so young and charming. Elladan had been a good influence on him. Or a horrible one. She had yet to decide.
The golden elf sat himself next to her,
"While I may pass the time of my amusement in Imladris, my duty is to Legolas and Thranduil. Under Thranduil's rules I am to look after his son and his daughter-in-every-way-but-name-and blood. I had thought the Prince would have let us stay in Eryn Lasgalen for some time, seeing as how your brother and my sister are residing there. And since we are now a family, I am obligated to stay by your side."
"Are you also not obligated to serve me as I please?"
"Well, yes."
"Then it pleases me to be left alone."
"No, I am sorry. My obligation to the King still holds more sway then my obligation to you; he did offer a home to my family after all. The obligation says I am not allowed to let you mope and muse. It's bad for the face and bad for your relationship with the Prince. Musing does not carry over well into the bedchamber."
"MENEPAURION!"
"It's true. Once again, obligation to the King: grandchildren."
"He is very pushy for an elf."
"Pushy, lonely, wants the warmth that comes into the home with a young child."
"He may get that wish granted soon."
"Really?"
"Not from me you stupid orcish excuse of a Trojan Horse of an elf. That's what you are. The orc in elf clothing! I have finally figured it out."
"I was wondering who had been rifling through my wig and face paint collection."
The two shared a laugh, looking over the city.
"Do you remember what it looked like when we first came here, the gates fallen, black smoke all around, the hopelessness tangible and mixed with the ash in the air?"
"It would a take a blind fool to forget such a sight, and even then they would remember it. Estel has done wonders for this city. Amazing how much one city can change from one ruler to the next."
"Well, yes, the ruler change and that whole vanquishing of evil thing."
"Ah, yes, that."
"Menepaurion, when will you pass over the Sea?"
"I should expect when Legolas goes, although I may stay longer if I feel the need to. Thranduil and my people do not seem keen to leave these shores."
"No, they are not, their fates, more so than the other elves, are entwine with the yarn of Arda. I fear they would fade if they were not allowed to dwell under their beloved birches in their forest. This is paradise for them."
"Yes, Woodland kin truly feel the tie to this land. They always have, and they always shall."
"The elven blood needed to sustain Arda, the spirit of the elves; the Woodland kin will keep it flowing."
"I pray for that, but with times of peace during the rise of Men, I fear they will soon come to overtake our land, and claim they have the right to it."
A fierce fire rose in Rhiannon at those words. A protectiveness for the untainted holiness the elves had when it came to their land, a vow rose within her mind and passed out of her mouth before she even realized,
"I swear, by all I hold dear now and shall ever hold dear, that your Woodland kingdom will remain protected. I do not care how much energy I have to force into hidden boundaries, I will. There will come a time in the future, a time when darkness has returned, when elves will be needed once again." Rhiannon continued on, for once her visions of the future flowing out in words to Menepaurion, "It will be many years from now, millennia. Elves will be nothing but figments of the past, creatures of a childish and over-active mind. All the lessons learned on Arda will be forsaken and fade into the dust and ash that is the result of the burned passion of life and history. Yet the past will be needed to secure the future. And Greenwood will stand, and under her great boughs elves will still dwell, no matter how lost to the world of Men they have become."
"Have you had a vision, my lady?"
"Not exactly. I just know I will not leave the shores of my home land for many years to come. And in my solitude, my only hope will be to preserve the land of his people."
"You mean not to go with him?"
"I never had, I never promised to. Legolas gets weaker everyday he stays on these shores. I become stronger. We have little time left. We never did seem to have much time."
"Then why do you waste the precious time you have left dwelling on foolish doubts on these cold steps with me?"
"I lack in wit."
"Intelligence, possibly. Wit, never." Menepaurion stood up and held his hand out. "Come, you have an elf prince to talk to. If not of your far future, then what you plan to do in the next few years. If you then proceed to get drunk, wind up in bed together, become with child, and give birth to a male, then all problems will be solved."
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Ithilien, 1458, Shire Reckoning
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And here she sat in Ithilien, reminiscing on the long and drawn out lecture and lessons Thranduil had taught her on that evening in his office. She had promise not to hesitate, not to let her fear overwhelm her. Yet the minute she saw Legolas again all the fear came rushing back and she did hesitate. Rhiannon could never recall having broken a vow before, and she just had. Perhaps this was the knowledge Thranduil spoke of, every decision you make, all the action you either take or do not, has more impact that ever before. She let her mind drift back to those last words the King had spoken to her.
"You let fear run your life."
The soft whisper of the King of Mirkwood had been in her head for weeks now. He knew her fear, and knew she was thinking of leaving his son, the elf they both loved so much.
It was fear. But not of Legolas, never of him.
She feared his wrath; one she knew would once be brought on her. She had seen the future of their time together and had known it could only end in pain. And yet she did nothing to hinder the progress of her relationship with the Greenleaf.
Did that not show some courage?
Thranduil was correct, she knew he was. Her fear did run her life, and in the process was slowly ruining all the plans Legolas had set out for their relationship.
They were bonded in mind and spirit, was that not enough?
Why did he need a ceremony?
He said they had been bonded in the eyes of her gods, seeing as how it was her power that had put them in this situation. They had needed an official ceremony in front of his own gods, if just to prove to the people he now ruled that they were wed. He did not wish to have any child of his called a bastard.
She knew, had always known, she could not have an elven ceremony performed. Her fear ruled that. She would lose her last true part of herself; forsaking her own beliefs for those of his. Was it not enough that they just loved each other? Why did he need those words said in front of others that they did not truly know?
Was it not just a fear ruling his life?
Rhiannon bowed her head; she could not give him what he wanted. And that would be the storm cloud that would hover over the relationship for years.
Perhaps they were star-crossed. Perhaps it was all coincidence and nothing of fate. Fear did not rule her life; doubt did.
A new whisper from Thranduil started in her head; "Doubt and fear come from the same viper within your breast."
Rhiannon knew her time was running out, knew she was wasting the precious bits she had left. She had no heeded every warning that had been passed down to her. She would no longer waste it. And there, on that hill in Ithilien so reminiscent of the faery mounds of her home, Rhiannon made a vow to herself that she would never break. Legolas would know just how much she cared for him, and even if he left this realm doubting the authenticity of her spoken words and emotions, Rhiannon would not sped eternity wading in guilt, for she would know that she had told him the truth from her very soul.
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(Pt. 2 to come soon)
A/N: I apolgize for all the skipping around. Thank you Jouri for you unending support with my struggle through this story. Next part will be the ending. There will be a sequel, but since it will largely concern original characters, it will only be posted on my website (which you can access through my profile). On that page will also be the thank-you's for the story (since ff.net no longer let's you put up non-story chapters) and the "inspirations" page of Engima along with the "Engima Soundtrack" started ages ago from a comment made by Jen. Yes, I know it's alot of crap....but the story has been worked on for two years, you accquire a lot of crap this way. Also, I apologize for the insanely long delay. It's been a hard year of college, and I'm trying to get into History Honors, so I've need to devote a lot of time again. Once again, I apoligize for the wait.