Chapter Twenty-Seven: Lyria

Mélanyë jolted awake on the shore of the river. At first she didn't remember what had happened and assumed that she and the Wildmen had been travelling while she slept. Out of habit she did not move as she woke but scanned her surroundings as much as she could.

She was curled on her side several feet from the shores of the Isen. The water ran much slower here and she saw a school of fish swim by where she lay. The sun was low in the west, being mid-afternoon, which made her wonder why they weren't travelling. She looked down at the ropes around her wrists and sighed. Then she saw the edge of one of the ends- it had been cut. She was free. She sat up with a start, but then her bruised ribs pinned her back down.

"Careful!" she heard a woman's voice behind her. Then it all came back to her. Killing Rachun and being rescued by who she thought to be a Ranger. At first she had assumed her one of the Dunedain, but her clothes made her think more of Boromir, the man of Gondor, than of Aragorn.

She felt hands gently turn her onto her back and saw a kind face above her. Her side complained at the new position and she hissed in pain. The woman's face showed her concern and she began to check the elf for injuries.

"I was worried," she said. She frowned as she uncovered an angry bruise on the girl's side. She took out herbs and bandages from a pouch as she continued. "You've been out for hours, I was afraid you may not wake up." Mélanyë didn't speak, but managed a small appreciative smile. The woman smiled back.

"My name is Lyrunya Forod," she said. She leaned over, brushing hair away from Mélanyë's pointed ears. "But the Elves call me Lyria," she said in Elvish. Mélanyë smiled and relaxed. Lyria watched her for a moment and then went back to tend to her wounds. She wrapped a bandage around the elf's side and then moved to clean the gash on her forehead. That was when she saw the tears on her cheeks. "What is it?" Mélanyë took a shuddering breath.

"He's gone," she whispered, "I couldn't help him…he's gone." Lyria looked as if she were about to speak, but instead went back to her work. Mélanyë stayed still and let the Ranger treat her. As she did, she studied her face, distracting herself from the pain.

Lyria had long dark hair that was curly, something Mélanyë rarely ever saw among the elves, and she had warm green eyes that reminded her of her mother. As she leaned over a silver pendant slipped from her shirt and Mélanyë stared at it, smiling at its beauty. It seemed to be several knots in the shape of a diamond but that shone like mithril. Lyria caught her eyes and smiled.

"It was a gift," she said as she tied the last bandage. She sat back with a sigh. "You should rest. You've been through a lot. Have you eaten?" Mélanyë shook her head. The ranger searched another pouch and drew out some Lembas. Surprise flashed across Mélanyë's face and Lyria grinned at her as she broke one in half and handed it to her. "These were also a gift," she said.

Mélanyë woke again later that evening. The sky was dark and dotted with stars save for in the west where the slight greenish glow of the sun still lingered. Lyria was sitting by the water humming a tune Mélanyë didn't recognize.

"How did you find me?" she asked her. She had wanted to speak in a normal tone, but it came out almost as a whisper. Lyria turned.

"I was on my way to Gondor when I saw the camp," she said, getting up to sit next to her. "I wouldn't have stopped at all had I not seen you." With some difficulty Mélanyë sat up.

"Thank you," she said. " I…I hadn't expected to ever be free again." Lyria smiled at her and got up. She filled a cup with water from the river and handed it to her. Mélanyë took it gratefully and drank it all at once. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had fresh water to drink, and this was sweet and cold.

"You are Mélanyë, aren't you?" Lyria said suddenly. The girl looked up in surprise. "You're the one they're looking for."

"Who's looking for me?" she asked. In her heart hope was rekindled that the others had survived the Wildmen's attack somehow.

"Some elves, I'm not sure who they were. I think they may be from Imladris." Mélanyë sat back as both joy and disappointment sprang up inside her.

"Oh."

"You do not wish to be found?" she asked. She seemed almost amused by her reaction.

"Well no, that's not it," she said, "It's just…I'd left in secret." To Lyria she seemed positively ashamed or embarrassed to share this with her. "I had left without permission. I feared they would not want me back." Lyria nodded with understanding.

"Ah, so this is family who searches all of Arnor and Eriador for you." Mélanyë bowed her head and sighed.

"I have no family. Not anymore." Lyria shook her head and leaned closer to her.
"I think you have more than you realize," she said. "You know they said they would stop at nothing to find you? They truly care for you. I don't think your leaving would change that. They miss you." Mélanyë looked up at Lyria as she spoke, eyes filled with tears. "I think it's time for you to go home." Mélanyë let out a shaky sigh and looked to the river beside them.

"Would you go?"

"In a second."

The next morning Lyria guided Mélanyë up the slope of the riverbank to the wide plains ahead. Her side was far less painful thanks to the Ranger's herblore, and she felt somewhat ready to go on. Lyria pointed ahead.

"Go this way," she said. "By evening you should reach the road. Follow it for three days until you come to a bridge. If you turn east with the river it will take you home."

"You're not coming with me?" asked Mélanyë. She was the only other person in these wide lands she knew, and felt that if they parted she would be lost in a moment.

"Mélanyë," Lyria said in a kind voice, "I am needed in Gondor. You will be fine on your own."

"I wish I could go with you." Lyria shook her head.

"No," she said. "You have been away from home long enough. It is time for you to go back where it is still safe." Mélanyë looked ahead to where Lyria had pointed.

"You're sure I'll find the road?" she said doubtfully. Lyria knelt and hugged her.

"Positive. Now go, or you'll lose daylight!" She gave her some of her lembas, hoping it would be enough for her long journey, and sent her on her way. As the sun set and the first stars appeared above her, Mélanyë found the road, just where Lyria said it would be.