Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR characters, whose births are credited to J.R.R. Tolkien.


I pass the next eighteen days in seclusion, hardly venturing out from my wing and making sure I stay out of the way of the new arrivals. Hardy and true, I refrain from visiting the people of one of my favorite races as I also refrained from visiting Bilbo the first few days after his arrival. Aragorn, however, visits me every day, seeking me out in my haunting spots.

My dear Hope! You've returned! I say in hand-signs. I watched Aragorn son of Arathorn grow from a wailing babe to the wise warrior he was today. "Estel!" my mouth struggles to form the name. No matter how old he was or what names he called himself, when we are alone, he will always be my Little Estel, my Hope.

Aragorn smiles and signs back to me. Yes, Mother Lyra, I've come home. I smile in response. He used his childhood name for me, when he could not fully pronounce my name. He also continued to call me "Mother", no matter how many times I forbade him from doing so. I was not his blood-mother, and I did not wish to replace her in his heart. Aragorn instead replied to me one day, "I call you 'Mother' because you are my second mother. You also helped raise me and taught me many things. Is it wrong for me to claim you as my dame?"

As for his hand-signing, it was a habit from his childhood days as well. Aragorn, curious toddler he was, wanted to know why I spoke with my hands. A child of barely four years, I simply smiled and avoided his questions with new sign-words. I taught him, just as I used to teach back in the days when I was younger and freer.

Are you well today? I inquire. How is Master Underhill?. In hand-sign, there are no names, only monikers used to refer to different people. "Underhill" is easier to sign than spelling out "Frodo" or "Baggins", and Aragorn told me about their interesting meeting. Hobbits leave strong impressions on all races.

He rose from sleep today, Aragorn signs. You can expect a Council meeting soon, Mother.

And I assume you will be in attendance?

Aragorn smiles wryly and replies in Elvish. "Master Elrond wishes for me to attend. And, I feel the halflings may feel safer if I am present." He pauses for a moment. "Will you be there, Mother Lyra?"

I frown. You know how I feel about the Ring's presence here, and my dislike of Council meetings, I scold him.

Aragorn sighs with a smile. "One cannot help but hope."

We converse at our leisure for a few more hours in the garden, enjoying the autumn sun. Then an elf calls Aragorn away for the Council. "I'll see you again, Mother," Aragorn bows. I smile and nod. Until our next meeting, I sign.

I rise from my seat and walk delicately to my little hideaway. Lord Elrond created a space for me for privacy, knowing that sometimes I needed a place away from company to remember and mourn. I sit on a little white bench in the corner, leaning back against the hedges. Closing my eyes, I sink into the green shrubbery, humming the tune of an old song I sang with my brother when we were children.

Suddenly, a loud ringing pierces my broken ears. I scream, a loud and guttural call of pain. Elves stream into the garden, attempting to soothe me. I cannot hear them through my covered ears. The ringing becomes shrill and my thoughts are scrambled, pain blending reality and perception.

Unable to take the pain any longer, I burst out of the elves' embrace and I struggle towards the sound. I can feel its vibrations quickening as I near its source. I burst through its shut doors and spy the One Ring, sitting on a pedestal, glinting darkly in my face. A scream of rage and a little of my power mixed with my voice stops the sound, and I collapse with relief, eyes staring blankly at the pedestal. That last burst of power let more darkness rot to enter me; I can feel myself sickening already.

I feel large, warm hands supporting me. Voices filter into my hearing, but I don't comprehend yet. I hear a voice calling my name, "Lyraniel! Lyraniel!" I turn toward it, and I see Aragorn's stone gray eyes. "Lady Lyraniel, are you well?" He recognizes awareness returning to my face and smiles, though it does not reach his eyes. "My lady, it seems that no matter how vehemently you protested to attending the meeting, you have come anyway."

I look around to see the stunned, frightened, and confused faces of the Council.


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