Authors note: I own nothing. :( Also, children of Eden inspiration, yes.
Bittersweet, beautiful and haunting, the sunlight shone upon the fellowshiparound the white tree. Aragorn leaned back against its sturdy trunk, Arwen under his arm. The two were pressed, the kings chin on her brow, his hand above her womb. It was pleasant news that had greeted him upon his return, another child. Another child to his name and line. Legolas reclined in the grass, one foot touching the water, sending ripples. Gimli stood not far off, looking towards the mountains. Faramir spoke to him, Eowyn leaning against him and their children playing under the shade of the great branches.
Merry slept, his face serene, tufts of grass and a single shining leaf under his chin. Pippin and Samwise were deep into a debate of how the pipe weed would grow this year, Pippin fearing the weather had been too wet, and Sam replying passionately that wet was just what the weed needed. "It's been too dry, in my opinion. This wet will help move things along."
Gandalf, his staff at his feet, his back against the Horse Lords side, watched Eldarion prance about, a smile playing across his face, even as his eyes were distant. Bilbo was still trapped in the tree with Frodo. Yes, trapped. How they had gotten up there was unknown, but there they were all the same, speaking to each other in half worried voices as they attempted to maneuver themselves down. "IfI… if I put my foot here…"
"That branch won't hold you."
"Well…perhaps I could..?"
"I think it's too far out of reach."
"Yes, yes that's true. Then I must…"
"No! Too far! Try the left!"
But it was too late; Bilbo was out of the tree. He looked up at Frodo with an embarrassed manner; the elf crushed beneath him was stunned into silence. Frodo sighed, alone, and tried to climb down.
There came a screech from the north, Gwaihir, Lord of the eagles, soared up and around the summit, coming to land on the highest branch of the tree. "I bring news, fellowship of the races. The wind has turned, it is blowing to the west and the sea is fair."
Gandalf stood.
"Lord of eagles, you come with fine tidings." The bird lowered its head slightly. "I thank you, and the hobbits thank you as well, the one underneath you, and the one upon the elf." The eagle lord clicked his beak amused; one golden eye looked below him to where Frodo sat in the branches.
"In need of assistance again, Ring bearer?" Frodo blushed and mumbled something about, (no thank you) and, (very kind,) and also, (I'll figure this out.) the eagle clicked his beak again, and watched as the hobbit continued his descent. The bird turned his head to the others in turn, until both piercing eyes fell upon Aragorn.
"…King of men, you nearly followed your fore bearers into shadow. I worried for you, and asked the wind to send you council, though men cannot hear the wind." Aragorn did not reply. His eyes were quiet, and calm. "…But I have worried in vain. The taint is free of you, and Mordor's reek has faded from your scent. It seems this journey has set you loose, as well."
"Wind lord, you honor me." The eagle gave a screech, his wings sending leaves to rain upon all below. He leapt from the branch and swooped about them, circling them all until his feathers pivoted, sending him soaring back to the north. Once he had gone, and the sky was silent of his cries, Gandalf turned to the others.
"As you well know, our end is very near. I know not what is yet to come, save that we will not be here. So I would ask you, if all we have, is this last little while. Here, now, each and every one of us, sit awhile.
…Remember these last days, for they are to be our last ones.
Think back on where we have been, discuss, recollect, return.
If there's fire in a soul, than its flame will never falter… and if there's hope within a heart, within that hope the flame will burn.
For you I wish the best, and may your flames burn ever true,
To those of us, whose flames are spent, in heart we are with you.
The wind is fair, and the sea, is clear…
What lies beyond does call us,
though a part of us cannot leave here...
The Mirror shows what it will show!
Our hidden hearts, that we would remember…
How came compassion to shadow,
Whenthey lit the ember…
You must remember...
Our hands can choose to bend the bars,
Our spirits are ours for the claiming.
We cannot know what fate will bring…
Journeys of Men, Dwarf, Elf, or Halfling…
The Nazgul screaming in the night,
Or Morgoth bellowing his might…
In the beginning…
This is but another, beginning…
…In whatever time, we have… for as long as you are living…
May you face whatever comes, though our fellowship is done.
You can make it on your own, but I pray you will not have to,
We are not meant to be alone… in whatever time we have."
The days passed all too swiftly, The dragon shone as he walked beside the sea, letting the surf kiss his scales. He would not be coming back, the last dragon would pass from middle earth, into the west. Bilbo stood beside Gandalf, who embraced Legolas and Aragon in turn, Faramir came forward to take his hand. Gimli stood a distance off; Dwarfs don't believe in goodbyes, they have a habit of turning into hellos. Sam and Frodo clung together, smothered by Merry & Pippin. The waves broke, the gulls called. Legolas looked across the water, his eyes misty. He would not go with them now… but soon, it would be soon…
"Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'."
My heart will weep, untill it sees thee again.
Eowyn and Arwen stood apart, watching in silence. Eowyn's eyes were wet, she cried often at partings, when she believed none to be watching her. It was done, at last it was all done.
They passed from sight above the waves, the dragon red in the light, the wizard looking ahead, the hobbits, looking back.
In the city of Gondor the moon shone like a silver glass, a cry was heard, someone in pain… it faded on the winds. Than a softer sound, a whispering wail, a baby's first breath. Inside the stone walls the midwife placed the babe into his mothers hands. The woman, tired and pale, looked upon her infant softly. "He was hesitant to leave." The midwife laughed.
"Yes, they loath to come into the cold for the first time." She turned to the girl beside her, who went into the outer hall. Outside the door an anxious father ceased his pacing. "A son captain, you have a fine son."
The woman named Adondra held the babe to her breast, smiling as the small mouth yawned. "Madam, his name? Have you chosen one?" She looked up, the midwife was watching the moon. "It's very bright tonight, and a tad chill…" she turned to face her. "For those of us that hold with old superstitions, this is a mid omen. Not too hot, and not quite too cold." Adondra shook her head, rocking her child.
"Seon and I hadn't decided… I had thought if it was a girl… yet… Gaellyn." The midwife looked surprised.
"Gaellyn?"
"Gaellyn."
"Gaellyn… a strange name for a child… you know it's meaning don't you? My lady… it is a somewhat dark name…"
"Gaellyn. My grandfather was named Gaellyn. If Seon gives his approval, that is what we shall call his son."
It was later in the night that the midwife Drimeth, sitting in an inn, was told by another exhausted midwife of a birth, occurring within minutes of hers. "I've heard from Acalith and Cresa, and they've been busy as well, passed them on their way here, they told me of some others. Now you too! That's nine births tonight under a frost moon! If there's not another one in a moment or so… an omen perhaps?"
An omen… Gaellyn…