~ Last of Kin ~

Delicate music floating in on a warm breeze awoke her from a heavy darkness, and suddenly needing to see the comfort of light, she forced her eyes open, blinking.

"Aerlaer! I thought you'd never awaken!" She pushed herself up to sit, turning toward the familiar voice to see a dark haired elleth clad in a blue gown, hurry to the side of the Imladris bed she had found herself in.

"Arwen, I am very glad to awaken in these fair halls, but please explain to me cousin, however did I get here? My last memory is of an Orc's hands wrapped around my neck... Oh, are we in the Halls of Mandos?" She gazed around uncertainly. "No, these are my guest rooms which means…" Aerlaer trailed off.

Arwen chuckled at her confusion. "No, no we are still very much in the halls of Imladris. You were saved by another Elf. He told us everything he saw. You fought with every ounce of strength you had left within you, he said. Thank the Valar he found you before..." She stopped herself and took a breath as Aerlaer tried to collect her thoughts, her memories. What she was remembering was a nightmare surely? It couldn't be real, just a dream. "Your heart was so weak when you arrived." Arwen continued quietly.

"We feared we had lost you." Aerlaer looked towards the door as Lord Elrond entered the chamber, Arwen stood up, nodding her head in greeting to her father. He walked over, kneeling where Arwen had just knelt, gazing worriedly into her eyes and she knew they were swiftly conveying the pain, the horror which was beginning to suffocate her heart and crush her soul. It hadn't been a dream, but a nightmare, a very real nightmare. "Tithinriel, what evil has befallen? Where is your brother? Where is Aerthor?"

Unbidden, tears rolled down Aerlaer's cheeks as she fought to comprehend all which had befallen before the Orcs had pursued her. The last image in her mind causing her the most pain, rendering her frozen as she fully realised she was completely and utterly alone.

"Aerthor is dead." She heard herself speak what she did not want to believe. "They're all dead." She heard Arwen gasp in horror, and Aerlaer she did not realise she was shaking uncontrollably until familiar arms embraced her.

…

Elrond was speechless. Surely there was some mistake in Aerlaer's words. If it were not for the condition she had arrived in the afternoon before, Elrond would have suspected a prank. No, this was certainly no prank between the young Edhelroch and her brother. No, this was pure consuming pain, her heartache absolute. There had been no lie, no jest in her words; her kin were gone. But how? The Edhelroch were some of the fiercest warriors of the third age, how could this be possible?

Against his chest, Aerlaer shook, silent tears falling in earnest. Elrond let her grieve freely, but internally he was deciding just what had to be done. He would send a group of scouts to the Gladden Fields to discover just what had befallen his young niece's kin. "Shh, they are safe now across the sea, and they are together still." He consoled the young elleth, wondering if she would fade to join them. It was something he deeply suspected would occur. Yet, she had made it this far. Legolas had found her but five miles from the valley's borders.

There was a light tap at the door and he looked up to see his own sons, deep worry in their grey eyes. Arwen stood shakily and walked to them, explaining through her own sorrow the little Aerlaer had spoken of. Immediately, as he knew they would, his sons were by his side. Elrohir shaking his head, trying to hold himself together, and Elladan carefully taking his place to embrace his cousin tightly. Each one of them desperately needed to know just what had befallen the herd, but until the young elleth was ready, they would wait.

…

Hours must have surely passed before Aerlaer felt she could cry no more and sniffing, slowly shifted and looked up. Elladan had wrapped his arms securely around her and she desperately didn't want him to leave. He was her protector always, no matter if she was no longer an Elfling. He stayed where he was to her relief, seeming to lend her strength. She knew it was time, she had to relive and retell what evil fate had befallen her kin, her family.

"The Orcs had been slowly picking the herd off for some years now." She was surprised to find her voice was stronger than she felt. "Any of us who strayed too far from the safety of the group risked our lives. We've always kept our fighting skills well-honed, and Aerthor's guard kept our boundaries safe.

It was a planned attack, the night of The Golden Leaf Celebration. Every member of the herd was merry and having a wonderful time, singing and dancing when suddenly there were screams and then there were Orcs everywhere. Half of us weren't armed. Half of the guard thankfully were and began fighting back straight away but the Orcs were ruthless and they were different. They were not the ones we usually dealt with but taller, fiercer, stronger and organised. Their armour was better, and they were marked in white battle paint, so they appeared all the fiercer.

Our herd only consisted of eighty-two and there were hundreds of these large Orcs. I managed to retrieve my weapons from my quarters, but I'd been followed and had to fight my way back out. I don't know how many I slayed, they just kept on coming from the darkness of our borders. We fought into the night. I saw Adar cut two down as he tried to protect my mother and then she too was taken." Aerlaer paused, taking in a shaky breath as she relived it all again, saw the images she had seen in her mind since she had awoken. "There were so many lifeless bodies, so much blood..." She shook her head, trying to distance the reality from her words.

"The fighting slowed a little, and as the moon came out from the dark clouds I could see from where id been momentarily knocked down. There was none of my kin standing. Save Aerthor, he was outnumbered by Orcs. I leapt up to his aid, but I could not get to him in time and they pierced a blade into his chest. I called out to him and he used his last breaths to tell me to run, to get away and flee to Imladris. At first, I did not listen, I thought I could save him but there was no one left to save. The herd had been diminished, only I was left standing. I did as Aerthor commanded me, I fled." She took in a shuddering breath and then, another, fighting to keep her composure.

None of her Imladris family spoke and she dared not gaze up into any of their eyes but instead focused on the intricate patterns upon Elladan's deep red cloak which half draped over her too.

"I ran from the Orcs for eight continuous days, dodging them and trying to lose them through the Wilderlands. There were twenty-five pursuing me, but I picked off twenty until I had no more arrows left. I knew if I could reach Imladris, I would be safe from harm. Aerthor had planned to represent our herd at the council and I knew I also had to fulfil his place and his duty. Finally, I was too tired and too weak to run a step more and I knew I had to turn and face my pursuers.

I struck one Orc down, but the effort was too much, and the four remaining Orcs knew they had me. I tried to get away, a small hope maybe I could survive them, then one picked me up by the throat and stopped the air from getting to my lungs. I remember nothing after that..." Aerlaer looked quizzically at Elrond now, her curiosity rising above the grief she was drowning in. She forced herself not to notice the pain in his wise, grey eyes. "Who was the Elf who found and saved me? Were they a Rivendell Elf?"

"No." Elrond smiled. "The Elf who found you was Legolas, son of King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, you may know of him?"

"The Elves of Mirkwood have not been seen in our end of the woods in many centuries." She replied. "I have heard his name, but do not know him."

"You were very lucky he was also traveling to Rivendell for the Council and heard you and your pursuers." She nodded slowly. Why would an Elf from Mirkwood be taking a path to Imladris from the South East?

"Yes, I guess it is a wonder I am still alive. You must point him out after the council, so I may thank him." Aerlaer replied, feeling very grateful to this mysterious Mirkwood Elf.

"You will still attend?" A shadow seemed to pass over Elrond's face, his words hedging.

"I do, I owe it to Aerthor. I must take his place, do what he would have done." Elrond nodded, his gaze shifting away.

"You've been unconscious since yesterday afternoon and it is early morning now, another day of rest will return the last of your strength. The council begins tomorrow, after the break of day meal if you do wish to attend in your brother's place." Elrond explained calmly. She nodded. "Now, all of you out, let your cousin have a moment alone." He added, and she felt lost again as Elladan moved away and went to stand by his brother. Arwen indicated to the adjoining wash room.

"There is a hot bath prepared. I will go and find some food for you."

"A bath would be nice, I feel rather un Elf-like in my current state." She murmured, trying to remain positive although her heart felt unbearably heavy.

"Do not let Aragorn hear you say that." Elrohir quipped with a wink, catching on quickly to what she was trying to do and helping to lighten her thoughts.

"Aragorn is here? I have not seen him in a very long while. How is he?"

"Ask Arwen, Elladan flashed her a small smile before they followed their father from the chamber. She gazed imploringly at her older cousin.

"We do not have to speak of Aragorn now." She murmured carefully.

"No, please Arwen, I want to know. I need something else to think of." She pleaded and did not miss the understanding in her cousin's eyes.

"He is well. I have given him my heart." She admitted quietly. Despite everything, Aerlaer smiled.

"I am not surprised, and I am happy for you. He is a good man, not very clean and a little smelly at times, but he is good." She teased, and Arwen now smiled brilliantly at her. This wonderful news was like a balm to her own soul. She had been the one to arrive in Lorien, with a grown Aragorn, along with Elladan, where Arwen had fallen for him.

It had been hilarious, she had not recognised the Ranger for the boy he had been. Aerlaer smiled at the memory, it too easing her soul. There was however one thing standing in the way… "What has your father said? Does he accept this?" She asked carefully, realising her cousin had pledged herself to a mortal life.

"Father does not know yet. At least I do not think he does. He knows my feelings for Aragorn and how Aragorn returns those feelings, but I do not think he will approve." She let out a disheartened sigh.

"He would not want to lose you. You're his only daughter, he will always be protective." Aerlaer consoled.

"He cares for you as if you were a daughter too." Arwen let a small grin slip. "Don't you go falling for a mortal too little cousin or my poor father will have a fit!"

"Silaear, remember the fiasco with Taurorn?" She couldn't help but snicker and laughter burst from the other elleth.

"Exactly! You had three Realms in an utter uproar!" Aerlaer laughed at the memory. Laughing felt good, so, so very good after everything. "Now, take a bath, or we'll have to pass you off as a dirty Ranger!" Arwen chuckled lightly and stepped out of the chamber, closed the pale wooden door behind her.

Aerlaer crossed her legs beneath her, fighting off the sadness, the pain which once again threatened to overwhelm her now she was left alone. This is ridiculous. I am alive, I am lucky. Really, it is a good thing, the herd are together, they are with Mandos. Surely he will let them out of his halls sooner because they are together? Because they should be free, not confined? It was reassuring to know their fëa were together, even though their bodies lay still in the fields. I really am the only one left…

An overwhelming sense of being alone tried to consume her and Aerlaer gasped, her own fëa floundering in shadows. Will I fade? Am I fading? She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. Those Orcs wanted to wipe out my kin but, I am still here. They failed. A new strength flooded her and slowly she shifted and stood. I will not fade; the enemy will not win.