Author note - Hello hello and welcome to my fairly on time update, woohoo! Couple of lines in this chapter taken from the book, so obviously those are not mine. All my original characters are though. Also the elf is back #justsaying.
Thanks 4everloveyou, Kitty0dair, canadian shorebird, girllyingbythesea901, karina marinaiov, shophiescastle, Star Tae, sleepyPrincess, Learnor, Ncori, Rasmany, ang-vamp, my Little Dreamer and umeiio for all the follows and favs, it's so cool to see so many new people who are enjoying the story, or people who were following who have now made it a fav, so nice!
Rachetg, jshaw0624 and Zip001 - thank you so much for your reviews, again haha, I love reading them. I hope you enjoy the direction the story is going in. You're right in that Keren has had a rough time of it, but you need the lows to appreciate the highs, and a massive high is about to walk his green-clad way into the story again.
Anyone else who is reading this who has any comments or feedback on how I could improve, or who'd like to share what they're enjoying/hating DO IT! Don't be shy I love reading reviews!
Onwards...
Chapter eleven - The field of Cormallen
Keren had retreated again. She was back in a world of swirling grey and numbness.
It was as if her mind had switched off when she saw the happiness on Eomer's face, refusing to allow her to feel or to think. The conversation went on, the warden congratulating him on his sister's good fortune, Palen smiling and nodding at the right time, all the while her heart breaking for Keren, who stood unnoticed slightly to one side, staring at the floor.
Dimly Keren registered that their time in the King's tent was ended, and she mechanically followed her sister outside into the fresh air. Once they had fallen into step behind him and the warden, Palen grasped her hand.
"He is taking us to our camp," she whispered. "Stay strong a while longer."
Keren nodded blindly.
Stay strong. How many times had she repeated those words to herself? Had she ever truly heeded them?
Somehow one foot was still being placed in front of the other. She could not tell for how long they walked, past how many tents and men, some with interested glances towards the two young women so out of place in a military camp. Eomer and the warden were conversing deeply but quietly, so they could only hear brief snatches of the details of the battle and subsequent skirmishes. It seemed that it was these that were going to provide the healers with the most work during their time at Cormallen.
Keren trudged on blindly, almost walking into the warden's back when they came to a stop in front of a small, slightly dirty tent. A young man with cropped dark hair and a slightly wonky smile was stood outside, a nasty cut on his face and his left arm in a very rough sling. Palen gave a cry and dashed forward.
"Dannor, oh Dan!"
He flung his good arm around her, and she could not see his wince as she leant a little too heavily on his sprained wrist. He held her close and kissed the top of her head, before she looked up and kissed his mouth. He hissed and winced again as her hand went to his face and touched the cut on his face, then laughed.
"Call yourself a healer, Pal?" he said. "You're hurting me."
She gasped and jumped back, but he quickly grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, kissing her with enthusiasm.
Keren, overjoyed for her sister and brother-in-law, was brought back to life briefly, and smiled a true smile of happiness. The young couple were oblivious to all others, as if they were the only two people in the world, and the warden did not call after Palen as Dannor began to walk her back towards the forest.
"Her duties can start tomorrow," he said briefly, with an awkward look at Keren. She nodded in reply, before turning and seeing Beregond, who waved her over.
"There is a space for you and Palen in here, but it is cramped - you'll be sharing with the other women." He gestured inside the low tent. "I hope you find it comfortable," he added with a wry grin. "If you need to bathe or, er, relieve yourself, the forest is your best chance of privacy. Also I hope you have prepared for rather irregular sleeping patterns. You will be called upon at all hours of the day, best to catch sleep while you can."
He stopped, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and her strained expression.
"All alright?" he asked quietly, taking her to one side.
"Just tired," she said simply.
Her rush of wanting to tell him everything was now overshadowed by her recent discovery of Eowyn's tidings, and now she found the last thing she wanted to do was speak of it.
Beregond raised an eyebrow, knowing there was far more for her to tell.
"Don't make me talk of it now." Annoying, tired and angry tears came to her eyes, which she furiously blinked away. "You will hear the news soon enough, and you will be able to guess why I am like this. But I came here to help, and to get away. So point me towards where I can be of use."
"Oh Keren." Beregond put a gently hand on her shoulder. "Always lately you are sad and tired. Begin your work tomorrow, and do not be useful tonight, rest instead. Go and see your father, he is here, and unhurt."
Her eyes met his, and she did not have to tell him what she was thinking.
Why is he not coming to see me? Why do I have to go to him?
"I am sorry I did not send you news of him,"Beregond said. "He was not in my company and I had heard nothing. But since we returned from Mordor I have spoken to him. He knows you were due to arrive today, and of course wishes to see you."
"I will go of course," she said with little expression. "Where can I find him?"
Beregond offered to walk her to where her father's company had set up camp, as he was loath to send her off into the vast company of men without protection, but insisted she stay and break her fast with the other healers first.
"You look half starved," he said by means of an explanation. "And exhausted."
"Thank you Beregond," she said. "I really needed to hear that I look terrible as well as feel it."
He could not help but smile at her, as her biting sarcasm indicated that she still had a spark of life about her. Tentatively she smiled back, although he noticed it did not reach her eyes. He thought he had a good idea what this sadness was about, but knew better than to question her now, and kept a close eye on her as she ate, making sure she was indeed eating and not just pushing her food around the bowl.
As soon as she was done she rose quickly and asked Beregond to take her to her father. She felt she should really wait for Palen to return with Dannor so that they could go together, but she also wanted the meeting done. Her father was becoming more and more of a distant figure to her, which had initially saddened her, but now was just accepted as the way life had played out. She always felt a rush of guilt every time she realised she was seeing him out of a sense of duty rather than any real desire to spend time with him, but she felt it was reciprocated. Both reminded each other of her mother.
She mulled all these familiar thoughts over as Beregond took her to him, wondering how the conversation would even begin.
Palen and Dannor walked back to camp after a couple of blessed hours alone. They received a few knowing smirks as they passed by, but neither could keep the happiness from their faces, and did not try to hide it. As they neared the healers camp they heard the fast pattering of small footsteps.
"Pal! Pal!" A slightly out of breath hobbit was running towards them.
"Pal, Pippin's awake," Merry shouted, "he's awake!"
Palen placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him, but she felt her heart leap in excitement for her new friend at his good news. She looked over at Dannor in her happiness and saw the look of surprise on his face. She forgot he had never seen a hobbit before.
"Dan, this is Meriadoc Brandybuck, or Merry for short," she said to him as a quick introduction.
"And short is the word," said Merry with a grin. "It is an honour to meet the husband of the finest healer in Gondor."
Dannor had heard about the hobbit from Palen, but had not realised just how close a friendship the two had developed in such a short time. The close bond was evident, and if Merry had not been nearly two feet smaller than his wife, and did not have such large hairy feet, he would have been slightly concerned.
"Much have I heard of you in my wife's letters Master Brandybuck, and an honour it is to meet you too," Dannor said seriously. "I have read a long account of your travels and deeds in battle from Palen. You are very brave."
Merry muttered and looked at the ground, pleased that Pal had spoken so glowingly of him.
"And how is Pippin?" Palen asked, to spare his awkwardness.
"Oh, you must come and meet him," cried Merry. "He is well, sitting up in bed cracking jokes already. Gandalf did something, I'm sure of it, and I really do think he'll be up and about by tomorrow."
"Surely he is not up to visitors?" Dannor said.
"From what I have learned of hobbits he will be," said Palen. "They are a hardy race. Why, Merry was walking about scarce twenty-four hours after almost being killed. If he says Pippin is well I believe him."
"And anyway, I would have no one else other than you to oversee his care, if he is not," Merry said, taking Palen's hand. "A great carer and a comfort you were to me while I was healing, and Pip deserves the best. I hope Frodo and Sam, when they awaken, will meet you too."
"They are still sleeping?" Palen asked with surprise, for Dannor had told her it had been almost two weeks since they had been brought from the slopes of Mount Doom to Cormallen.
"Pip tells me Gandalf has them in an enchanted sleep of some sort," Merry said confidentially. "He wants them healed in body and mind before they have to speak of their time in Mordor, which they will have to do. But soon I think he shall lift the spell. They are over there, just beside the woods."
He waved his arm in the general direction of the trees, and as he spoke he pulled Palen along in the opposite direction towards where Pippin lay.
"You will know much of hobbits Pal, once this is over," Dannor said to his wife over the top of Merry's head.
"Not nearly enough I fear," Pal replied with a smile. "A more confusing creature I have never met as Merry here, nor a more delightful one. And I hope, once this is over, that we will remain friends."
Merry squeezed her hand in reply.
"You are about to make a new friend Pal, of that I'm sure," he said as he reached the tent where he had left Pippin sitting up eating a man-sized portion of stew.
"Pippin, oh mighty warrior of the Shire," Merry announced loudly as he entered the tent, "here is my friend Palen, fair healer of Gondor, and her husband Dannor, noble soldier of the – oh!"
Palen and Dannor stopped abruptly behind Merry as they also looked with surprise at the unexpected figures before them.
"Gimli! Legolas!" Merry cried. "My friends!"
Palen stood in shock as she took in the sight of an elf and a dwarf sat in such close proximity. She had never seen either race before, nor did she think it was common for the two to endure each other's presence – she had heard of the terrible animosity between elves and dwarves. Dannor was a little less taken aback, as travelling with the army he had seen these strange characters from a distance, and knew they were friends of Elessar.
Palen had of course heard their names before from Merry as he relayed tales of his journey, but it was still strange to her to put faces to the odd names.
Gimli the dwarf – he was stockier and sturdier than she had imagined, and yes, taller, although it was hard to tell his true height as he was sat awkwardly on a tiny stool. His beard and hair were a burnt red, and his nose large and bulbous. She could barely see his eyes hidden under his protruding eyebrows.
And the elf, Legolas. Palen gave herself a mental shake as she remembered that Merry had told her he was a Prince of the distant realm of Mirkwood.
I am doing well today, she thought wryly, a King and a Prince in one morning.
She studied him whilst trying to appear as if she was not. Like Keren, she had been brought up on stories of elves, and now one was here before her she had to admit that yes indeed, he was incredibly attractive, but there was something other-worldly about him which disconcerted her. His hair was a little too perfect, his face entirely symmetrical and flawless in its beauty, his skin smooth, with no trace of stubble on his cheeks. She looked over at Dannor and smiled – she knew who she would choose a thousand times over, elf prince or no.
Both elf and dwarf now stood in welcome, and Merry dashed over to them, unashamedly thrilled to see them, for they had parted in Minas Tirith with no certainty of whether they would see each other again. Both had been kept busy with Aragorn's plans for Gondor, both imminent and long term, and neither had had the chance to meet with their friend.
Palen felt a little intrusive as the four friends drew close together in reunion, leaving her and Dannor stood awkwardly at the entrance.
The strange little group gathered around Pippin's bed, although the incumbent looked as though he were desperate to leap out of it with excitement, having been well fed and watered since he had awoken, and suffering little other than a mild headache after his experience outside the Black Gate.
"Now all we need is the others," Pippin said happily, "and the time surely cannot be far off when we are all together again."
Palen immediately liked Pippin, she could not help it. She thought both he and Merry had been incredibly brave and faithful to their friends and their cause – unlikely as it had first seemed, she had to admit that she viewed them as heroes just as much as the warriors they had travelled with, and she was sure she had only heard half the story. What she would make of Frodo the ringbearer and his companion Samwise she did not know, for she could not believe that two such creatures were responsible for the downfall of Sauron. She honestly thought she would have to see them and hear them tell the tale in order to even begin to believe it.
Merry, once the excitement of being together again had worn off, eventually introduced her and Dannor.
"My friends, may I introduce properly another friend of mine, Palen, daughter of Maleron, and her husband Dannor, knight of Gondor?"
Palen curtsied low, whilst Dannor bowed and said humbly how great an honour it was to meet such heroes. Gimli scoffed.
"And I suppose you didn't march with us to Mordor, nor fought the enemy with courage and no thought for yourself?" he said crossly. "I can see by the scar on your face you did not have an easy time of it. No, master Dannor, in my eyes all who marched East are equal to us, so there'll be less of this bowing and scraping. Especially to the Princeling here."
He immediately nudged Legolas in the ribs and laughed, and the elf pretended to look annoyed. Palen however had not missed the inquisitive look the elf threw in her direction when Merry had said her father's name, and wondered what had prompted it.
"How are you feeling Pip?" Merry's question drew her gaze away from the elf and onto the hobbit sat up in bed.
Rosy-cheeked and bright of eye, Palen would never have guessed that a few hours before Pippin had been unconscious, resting after being wounded in battle, and yet she knew from Merry that that was the case.
"Much better," Pippin replied. "Food helped. Although my head is still sore, but I don't want to trouble Gandalf just because of that."
"Pal will sort you out," Merry said confidently. "She is the best healer in Gondor – "
"You did not have any other healer to compare me to," Palen interrupted quietly.
" – and she will, I hope," he carried on as if she had not spoken, "tend to Frodo and Sam once they are awake, take some of the weight off Gandalf's shoulders."
Palen felt almost dizzy with wonder at the sound of her name being thrown about with those of such fame or importance, and looked at Dannor in bewilderment.
"Master Merry," Dannor said, "you must remember my wife is here to tend the soldiers of the army, not illustrious hobbits. She will have to go where she is sent, like the other healers."
"He's right Merry," Palen said in agreement.
"I will speak to Aragorn, and we shall see," was all Merry said.
Keren stood awkwardly in front of Maleron, son of Fordon as he looked her up and down. They had got past the usual greeting of "father", "daughter", and now stood regarding each other, each wondering how life could possibly have ended up this way.
Her father, with his dark, stern face, looked both judging and concerned.
"You have been ill," he said simply.
"No," Keren replied. "Not really. Just tired."
She dared not tell him of what had occurred, or he would begin comparing her to her mother again, weak of heart and spirit.
Both knew in their hearts that that had not been the case, but it was easier for her father to believe that than to believe that Orwen had chosen death over him and their daughters. The day she finally gave up was the day he had begun to withdraw from them, and after all these years the girls had lost the inclination to fight for his affection, although Palen saw him more frequently than Keren.
"Tired?" He managed to make it sound like an illness.
She nodded uncomfortably, and the silence built again.
"Where is your sister?" he asked after a time.
"With Dannor. I am sure she will come to see you soon."
Keren was not at all sure, but felt it was the right thing to say. The small huff he gave through his nose indicated how much he believed her.
"You could always have come to find us you know," Keren found herself saying. "You are not injured, and you knew from Beregond when we were to arrive. Dannor was there to greet Palen."
Maleron did not reply.
"I suppose you do not wish to talk of the battle?" she asked tentatively. "But if you do I will listen."
"There isn't much to tell Keren," he said blankly. "I killed men and creatures who were trying to kill me. It had been long since I had had to fight, but things like that stick in your mind, and I survived."
Keren realised she was still standing rather than sitting companionably, but her father had not asked her to join him.
"Well, I am glad father," she said quietly, and then felt they had both said all that they had needed to. "Shall I send Palen to you?"
This would give her an excuse to leave at least.
He nodded, and she turned swiftly and walked away.
Maleron wanted to cry, but couldn't.
The next day Keren and the other healers were hard at work, as she had expected to be. She was sent all over the camp, tending those who had received particularly bad wounds from Easterling and Southron weapons. These skirmishes were still happening on a regular basis, as men were leaving Mordor and passing through Ithilien hoping to return to their homeland. Ithilien was now truly a part of Gondor once more, and the men of the West would defend it from any servant of the Black Land, regardless of whether their master was defeated or not.
Keren and Palen worked together for the most part, although at midday her sister was called away by the warden, who looked most confused. Palen appeared to know what it was about, but Keren looked blank as Pal walked in the direction of the forest. She assumed it was something to do with Merry, as he had said he would have no one to care for him other than Pal, but she was sure he was now in good health. She was soon busy enough to not wonder at Pal's whereabouts however.
Palen swallowed nervously as her feet brought her closer and closer to where the two hobbits lay. Merry had her hand in his, and Pippin was also walking beside her, looking a little pale but otherwise completely recovered.
"Gandalf has said he is happy for you to bind Frodo's hand," Merry said. "He trusts my word that you know what you are doing, don't worry." The hobbit beamed with pride that the great wizard respected his judgement.
"And Sam?" Palen asked tentatively.
"Samwise Gamgee is physically unhurt, mistress Palen," an old, deep voice replied from the shadows. "But much has his spirit endured, and he will awake after his master."
Palen gasped as she saw the wizard emerging from the trees. Mithrandir. She hastily curtsied. She had seen him briefly in the Houses of Healing, but never had he showed her attention or spoken to her before.
"Don't gape girl," he said, although there was friendly twinkle in his eye, and she thought his long beard was hiding a smile. "I did not intend to be here, but I find myself curious to meet the healer of whom Merry speaks with such praise."
"I am honoured, sir," she managed to say.
Gandalf chuckled and indicated that she should enter the tent.
"Tomorrow shall be the day they awaken," he said in a hushed tone. "I will lay them out on the soft grass outside, so they may look up at the trees and the sky. The enchantment will be lifted, and they shall be honoured as only saviours of the world should."
Palen stood in silent wonder as she looked down at the tiny figures stretched out on the basic camp beds. One dark, one fair, both thin, one almost skeletally so. The dark one was missing the third finger on his right hand.
"Yes, that is Frodo Baggins, and that is where Sauron's great weapon was torn from his hand," Gandalf explained.
He offered no more explanation, and she knew she would not get one if she asked. She felt tears grow in her eyes for these two strangers.
"It is right to weep for them," Mithrandir said, "for much have they endured to save you, and all the people of this Earth."
She nodded, then sniffed and pulled herself together – she was here to do a job.
"Where can I find clean dressings?" she asked swiftly, and Gandalf gave her an approving look from under his large eyebrows as she set to work.
The morning of the eighth of April dawned. Time was a strange thing to Keren lately. It felt as if she was living in an entirely separate universe from everyone else, and sometimes she was held in temporary paralysis, and sometimes she was sprinting through the days and lapping all those around her, waiting for them to catch up. She was trying not to be too hard on herself for dwelling on thoughts of Faramir whenever she got a moment to herself – for really not much time had passed at all since they were sat together cosily in his room by the light of a single candle.
And now here she was in Cormallen, preparing to attend a feast in a field, with many great men and lords, to praise two strange creatures called hobbits, of which she had only heard of less than a month ago.
Keren and Palen had completed the last of their rounds before the feast, checking that all the injured men were comfortable, and judging whether they were fit enough to attend the festivities, which were to begin as soon after noon as the two hobbits were ready.
The girls had brought nothing but their healer's uniform, but attempted to dress their hair as well as they could, as all had been invited to attend. The healers would, of course, be nowhere near the area where the King and the hobbits would be, but it was a fine excuse to enjoy themselves and eat and drink.
By noon the great undertaking of assembling the entire remaining army on the field was completed, and thousands stood ready to welcome the hobbits as they emerged on the top of the hill, where they could be seen by all. Keren stood in anticipation, for unlike her sister she was yet to see the two famous hobbits. She could not see much if truth be told – she could make out in the distance the three thrones of Elessar, Eomer and Prince Imrahil, sat on three natural grassy mounds, but she could not clearly see the men themselves, nor any surrounding the thrones as it was so crowded. She felt a lump grow in her throat as she saw the standard of the white tree of Gondor flying, as she was taken back in her mind to her first sight of Faramir when she was a child. If only she had known then where she would have been led to after choosing to follow that path.
A great bellowing of horns and trumpets began, and she looked over to the entrance of the forest, where a clearing had been made. Flanked by guards in the silver and black of Gondor, stood two tiny figures, dressed in, as far as she could see, nothing but rags. A huge cheer began, and all the men began to sing in their own languages, until a great cacophony of sound was ringing through the air as many different songs of praise were sung in different tongues.
It became difficult for the healers to see anything of import after that point, as so many spears and swords were shaken it was impossible to keep track of what was happening, and the hobbits were lost to their sight. Several times a cheer rang out, but they could only guess at what was taking place.
Suddenly all were silent, and a single voice rang out clear and strong. The healers could not hear the words, or even all of the notes, but the high passages of the song carried across to them feelings of pride and awe, as the melody flowed and soared.
The voice only stopped as the sun began to lower in the sky, and then all the soldiers rose and were commanded by their captains to go to the great tents that had been set up for feasting. This command was met with cheers, and the healers also looked forward to an evening of good food and drink. Keren and Palen looked at each other in laughing amusement at their good fortune in being involved in such an event, and as they walked arm in arm towards the feast Keren felt a little glimmer of something other than despair at the hand fate had dealt her.
The girls sat themselves down in a crowded corner with the other healers. They had hoped that they would be able to meet up with Beregond and Dannor, and Palen also, out of a sense of guilt at her delayed meeting with their father, wanted to spend some time celebrating with him. But all so was busy and chaotic that they found themselves rather isolated initially. It was only when the drinking began after the meal that they felt more able to wander around freely, and soon they met Dannor who had been on his way to find his wife. Dannor took them to Beregond, and the four of them passed a happy, rather drunken, couple of hours, spent mostly in laughter. Palen wished she could see Merry and the other hobbits enjoying themselves altogether again, but places in that pavilion were reserved for only those of the highest rank. They were close to it however, and could hear shouts, laughter and music coming from within.
"The new King must know how to host a good party!" Palen had to shout to be heard over the sounds of celebration.
"I wonder how long the hobbits will last before they tire?" Beregond wondered. "Merry and Pippin are strong, but for Frodo and Sam this must be a trial after all they have enjoyed."
"A trial, laughing and drinking with friends?" Dannor said. "I could do with more trials like that!"
Keren was silent. She had enjoyed the evening immensely, but every now and then a wave of melancholy would hit her as she remembered past events. She was trying not to show it however, and the rest of the evening passed all too quickly. Gradually the music began to die, the sound of snoring rose up from all the tents, and groups began to separate as folk went to their beds.
Keren's head was pleasantly light – just enough to let her know she had had a good time, and had been sensible enough to stop drinking before she made herself ill, or embarrassed herself by sobbing over everyone, which she was surprised had not happened if she was honest with herself.
Palen had nodded off on Dannor's shoulder and Beregond had fallen asleep where he sat, his arm cradling an empty tankard. She smiled at the good fortune of her friend, safe and able to return to his wife and child – he was entitled to celebrate tonight. Dannor smiled at Keren over his wife's head and whispered that perhaps it was time they all headed for their beds. Keren nodded automatically, but found that when she stood she was not at all tired, and did not follow them to the healers' tent.
Instead she walked, away from the now nearly silent field, and towards the gently rustling trees of the forest. She was strangely drawn to them, as if they were letting her know that they would provide her with solitude and peace, which she had not felt she had truly had since the night in the gardens of the Houses. She felt a bizarre need to take off her shoes as she stepped under the trees, the grass too soft and cool to be ignored. She smiled at her strangeness, glad there was no-one around to see.
The moon had long risen in the sky, and it cast its light timidly through the leaves overhead, coming down in beams. Keren did not feel afraid despite the shadows. She was careful not to wander too far however, going round and round the glade rather than further into the forest. Eventually she stopped dead, as she realised she had thought of nothing but Faramir the entire time, despite all that had happened that day, and sighed with annoyance at herself. The tears were threatening yet again, and she was starting not to recognise herself. She had always been quick to feel strong emotions, but she was not used to this relentless sadness which always seemed to be just below the surface.
She had stopped next to a tree with a very inviting space between its roots, as if it was offering her a seat, so there she sat, leaning her head back against the trunk. She could still see the dim light from the camp fires through the trees, so did not feel unsafe. But the folk sleeping in the field could have been the other side of the world, so closed off did she feel from everything. She just wanted Faramir, and she could not have him, he did not want her. She closed her eyes, feeling entirely alone, heartsick and lost.
Do you hear them calling,
The voices of my people that have gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me.
A voice came to her gently, as if it was blown on the wind itself from the very leaves of the trees.
She opened her eyes slowly, afraid she would see some wood sprite or tree spirit, but all was still and silent. The voice was growing nearer, and she looked into the shadows, wondering if the owner of it was close by.
In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not; land of my people for ever!
It was a strange sad melody, and she thought the words reminded her of something.
She smiled at the beauty of the voice and of the song and turned her head to look up at the moon shining down through the trees. It did not occur to her to move or to leave in case the singer was not as gentle as his song, but rather she felt entirely at peace, almost as if she was a part of the forest, just watching and waiting for this singing intruder to pass by.
The song ended and she sighed sadly, but did not realise that she had done so.
"Well met Keren daughter of Maleron," a gentle voice said.
Keren hastily turned her head at the sound of her name, and saw who it was who had been singing of his people. The silvery hair, the pointed ears, the bare feet, all were familiar. She was silent as the Prince of Mirkwood stood before her once more.
Author note - If anyone is wondering about Frodo and Sam's enchanted sleep, I figured that a fortnight is a long time with no food or drink - there's no IV in Middle Earth haha - so their sleep is magical in quality. I thought a good explanation for the amount of time that passes between them being rescued from Mount Doom and waking up in Cormallen would be that Gandalf had done something funky to help them heal as they slept. Hope it makes sense. I tripled checked Tolkien's timings before putting it in, and yes they really are asleep that long. Also don't ask why I've had Legolas have bare feet so much in the story so far. I don't know haha. But now Keren's getting in on the act too. I'm thinking maybe they feel closer to nature with their shoes off and grass under their feet, I certainly do, so whenever he's under the trees, off the shoes go?!