Epilogue

The House was still sombre after dealing with so many tragedies so close together. Time normally passed slowly in an Elven realm, but it passed even more slowly in Rivendell in the weeks past. Beleglor had left a few days ago, and it was coming up to a month since a devastated Glorohtar screamed for help on that awful dawn. Things were only just coming back to a semblance of normal as winter finally came in full force. It was eerily quiet, all the animals in their hideaways and no one coming or going. No one dared venture outside the borders now.

The naked trees made it easier to see the visitor who came speeding down the valley on his fast steed. His errand was for Lord Elrond, he said, with the utmost haste.

Elrond was surprised to see the Dúnadan racing towards him, breathless.

'Morandir! What are you doing-'

Morandir stopped, panting. He lay his hands on Elrond's shoulders.

'What was Farothwen's name at birth?'

'Morandir, I'm sorry, but Farothwen's-'

He had no time for an explanation. 'What is it? Do you know?'

'It is Ilirdin.'

Morandir's face lit up in a mixture of shock and excitement. 'So it is true! I was wrong all these years. She had not lost her mind. She did have a daughter. I do have a sister!' In his eyes was pure joy. 'Where is she? Where is my sister?'

Morandir's happiness made Elrond's news all the harder to deliver. 'Morandir, please come with me. I need to tell you something.'

His face instantly fell. 'What is it? What is wrong?'

Elrond did not answer as he slowly led Morandir to the graves. He wondered whether he was doing the right thing by letting his know this way, but he could not find the words to tell the Ranger that his lost sister and a woman he loved in her own right was dead.

Morandir took one look at the gravestones and started shaking his head. 'No. No. It cannot be. My sister is not dead. Farothwen is not dead!' He sank to his knees as tears ran down his cheeks. 'She's not dead.'

'I'm so sorry, Morandir.'

'When did it happen? What happened to her?'

'She came back to us on this day four weeks ago. She and Glorohtar were journeying to their home in Mirkwood. They were ambushed by an Orc patrol. She died instantly.'

Morandir looked at Glorohtar's stone. 'And what of him?'

'He died but a few days after her. He died of a broken heart.'

'Her father?'

'He has sought the Havens. His wounds were too deep to heal.'

Morandir sighed deeply. 'After all these years I could have had with her, I should have had with her. Why couldn't she have told me the truth? Why did she keep my sister from me until her dying day?'

Elrond placed a hand on his shoulder. 'I cannot answer those questions, Morandir. Only your mother could, and it seems that she finally told you the truth too late.'

'The one question I cannot answer is how Farothwen came to be here, when my mother left her in Mirkwood.'

'I can answer that for you, if you like. But tell me of how Farothwen came to be there. That part had plagued Beleglor all of her life.'

'My mother and father had left to go to Laketown. They knew they could not take me, as I was only four years old at the time. They left me with my mother's parents. My mother did not realise she was with child until they were far into the wilderness. Thankfully Farothwen waited until Laketown to be born. I still do not know why they were in Laketown, apart from the fact that my mother had some relations there. On their way back home, they took a dangerous wrong path in the woods, and my father was shot and killed by Orcs. My mother fled to Mirkwood. She knew she could not journey back with Farothwen alone, it was much too dangerous. She also knew that the Ranger way of life was also fraught with peril, so she decided Farothwen would be safer with the Elves. She left her with nothing but a note and a name. I am honoured that Beleglor chose to keep the name my mother gave her.'

'How did you come to know that Farothwen was your sister?'

'When my mother was telling me this story, she described what she remembered of her daughter. She had lost her sight in the last few years of her life, but she still remembered. As soon as she described her eyes, I knew that it had to be Farothwen. It just had to be.'

Elrond nodded. 'Now I will tell you how Farothwen ended up in Imladris. She was persecuted in Mirkwood all of her life. The main instigator was a man called Hirogaer. And it did not help Farothwen when she married his son.'

'Hirogaer was Glorohtar's father?'

'Yes, and when he found out, he hurt her, and bade her to leave Mirkwood and not return under pain of death. She was scared and lost, and somehow ended up in the caves of the Misty Mountains, where she was tortured horribly by the Orcs that lived there. That was how she came to have those scars. My son found her and brought her back here, and somehow Glorohtar and Beleglor found us here as well.'

Morandir sighed. 'She suffered so much. And to think that she was so close to us. If only my mother had not lost her sight – she would have recognised her.'

'Farothwen met your mother?'

'Only briefly, but yes. There are so many 'if onlys', but they are not going to bring my sister back to me. All I can do is remember the time I did have with her, and hope that one day we will meet again, and finally I can tell her that I am her brother.'

'You will meet again, and you can tell her the truth. I'm sure she would have been very proud to have you as her brother.'

Morandir smiled slightly. 'I can only hope.'

Elrond left him to spend time with his sister alone. He heard Morandir tell her in hushed tones that he was indeed her brother. Elrond watched from a distance. He had been feeling Morandir's pain for many thousands of years since the death of his own brother.

Even after spending many lifetimes of Men watching them die much too soon either by the sword or time, Elrond was still not sure whether mortality was truly a gift. But he was sure that love itself was a gift, one both Farothwen and Glorohtar freely gave and received. Even though their lives were indeed short, none could ask for such a great gift as the love they gave each other.

He smiled, comforted by that though. Even though they had lives half lived, their love was fully given.

THE END

A/N: So, that's it! It is with great pleasure that I officially announce Aníron Algarbach complete! Thank you to all who have read, reviewed, previewed, criticised and encouraged me to surgically remove this story over its three-year life. I hope you all enjoyed it and had a laugh and maybe felt moved. If I managed to get any emotional reaction out of you, thenthe gruelling process in writing my first novel-length story, then it was all worth it. Thank you all, and goodnight!