Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC's and the plot, everything else belongs to Tolkien and those who currently own the rights to his work.
Chapter 45 - Choices
Third Age 3021
Elrohir watched from the shadows for some time before making his presence known. She just sat there, staring at the headstones, her stillness reminiscent of the marble statuary, unmoving, unseeing, beneath the glittering starlight.
"Eruanna," he called gently, emerging from the shadows of the trees.
When she failed to respond, Elrohir took a seat on the ground beside her. He glanced briefly at the stone tribute to Rumil. It was placed beside a much older monument, one dedicated to Rumil's father, felled by orcs many years ago.
Elrohir returned his attention to Eruanna. She did not acknowledge him but continued staring at the stone. Elrohir reached out and took her hand in his; a weak attempt at comfort. She squeezed his hand gently but did not avert her gaze.
"We can return to Imladris whenever you are ready," he whispered softly. Elrohir could not say for certain why he kept his voice so low. It might have been due to the quiet of the place, out of respect for the dead, or, more likely, the sharp pang of guilt that struck him for stealing her attention away from Rumil.
"Imladris," Eruanna droned; her voice devoid of emotion.
Elrohir exhaled deeply, the sound of Eruanna's voice reassured him some. She was still in there, somewhere. Of course she is, where else would she be?
"Is there somewhere else you would rather go?" Elrohir squeezed her hand gently, hoping to keep her talking. He would take her anywhere she wanted, back to Gondor, to Mirkwood, even across the sea.
Eruanna reached out her free hand and ran her fingers across the stone's inscription. "With him," she breathed, "I wish to go with him." She turned her head to Elrohir, her eyes full of anger, their former grief washed away with so many tears, "But I will not fade, will I?"
"No." No, she would not fade, anymore than Elrohir could when he lost his mother. It was the mortal blood. It was too strong. There was no escape from grief for the half-elven.
No escape.
"Why now?" the anger flared in Eruanna's eyes and seeped into the timbre of her voice "Why would the Valar take him now, when the war is won?"
Elrohir fell silent. He had no answer, or, no answer he cared to voice. He wanted to say that the Valar were cruel, that they cared not for the hearts of those who dwelled in Middle Earth and for the peredhel least of all. But there were some thoughts, even in anger, Elrohir would never reveal.
"I'm afraid," Eruanna said at last.
Afraid? "Of what?"
Eruanna looked to the stone and tried not to think of the body that lay beneath it. Instead she tried to imagine his spirit in Mandos' Halls, but even that thought gave her no comfort. "I fear he will not return," she said at last.
Elrohir's brow furrowed in obvious confusion; he did not understand her meaning.
Eruanna marked the shifts of Elrohir's expression carefully. He looked so much like his father when he sat deep in thought. It was clear her companion did not understand. She took a deep breath and released it, gripping Elrohir's hand firmly when she spoke.
"I have read the great histories, Elrohir, and the lies they contain, some are subtler than others." She hesitated then, unsure of how to explain a revelation so profound no simple words could express, "Glorfindel may have been reborn, but many who died before him were yet to be released from Mandos."
Eruanna looked up at the stars remembering Rumil's words of parting, passed on to her by Haldir. "What if the World must be remade before I see him again? I don't know if I am strong enough to live forever without him."
"There is no way to know for certain," he told her, knowing full well that was not what Eruanna wanted to hear. Elrohir had never really thought about the subtleties of Elven rebirth, and Glorfindel aside, no elf in Middle Earth had ever returned from the Halls.
"No way," Eruanna sighed, but as her gaze moved to Rumil's stone her eye was caught by a soft shimmer, starlight reflected on the surface of a small pool in a clearing nearby. Eruanna's eyes grew wide.
No way.
She sprang to her feet in a swift motion that startled Elrohir and the small creatures hiding in the grass. Eruanna took off at a run toward the heart of Caras Galadhon, leaving a bewildered young Lord behind.
"I've been waiting for you." Galadriel glanced briefly from the mirror to the elleth emerging from the wood.
Eruanna caught her breath and took a moment to suppress the wave of anger that washed over her at the Lady's greeting. "Have you?" she managed to bite out through clenched teeth.
Galadriel fixed sad, tired eyes on the young elleth. The hurt and blame in those two little words cut like a knife. "Eruanna…"
"Did you see this in your mirror?" Eruanna cried out, cutting the Lady off before she could speak. "Did you know he would die?"
Galadriel closed her eyes. It was as much an attempt to control her own tears as it was a shield against Eruanna's pain. "One of them," she whispered, "I knew one of them would die."
One of them? Eruanna shuddered at the implication. She'd spent the last week wishing Rumil back to life, but wishing Haldir or Orophin had died in his place was another matter entirely. Eruanna shook her head, not wanting to wander too far down that path.
Her eyes softened measurably when they found the Lady staring down into the mirror. How long had Galadriel known that one of Celeborn's beloved foster sons would die? "When did you know?"
"Before Dol Guldur," Galadriel caressed the edge of the mirror. The vision of the twin headstones had played over and over again in her dreams, but she'd been unable to read the name on the second stone. "I thought one would fall during the battle, but all three returned to us."
Eruanna moved closer to the Lady and peered over the mirror's edge. "What do you see now?"
"Nothing," Galadriel breathed and in her eyes Eruanna could see that the water's darkness was both a blessing and a curse to the Lady of Light.
"Nothing?" Eruanna had no idea that hope could be shattered with a single word.
"The mirror has grown dark," Galadriel explained, knowing full well the reason Eruanna sought out this place. "You hoped it would give you answers."
"I hoped to see my destiny. I thought it was with Rumil, but now…," Eruanna didn't know what to do. She felt lost, cast adrift upon the silent water, not knowing if she should swim to one shore or the other or simply permit its currents to carry her away.
"You would have followed him to Valinor." It was not a question. Galadriel's power may have diminished with the destruction of the Ring, but she still had ages of experience to draw on.
Eruanna nodded but she was not prepared for the question that followed.
"And if there had been no Rumil?" Galadriel asked.
Eruanna's eyes shot to the Lady's unreadable face. She opened her mouth to speak but could not find an answer.
The Lady's words echoed the cause of her silence. "Is that not what frightens you most of all, that perhaps you were merely following him?"
"I have no reason to stay here."
Galadriel fixed Eruanna with a firm gaze. "You know that isn't true. You enjoyed your time in the White City. With knowledge and beauty unmatched by any mortal, you would be exalted among Men. There is much you could teach them, much you could do to bring the wisdom of the West back to the people of Gondor. Is that not a reason to remain?"
"What are you doing?" There was accusation in Eruanna's voice.
What was she doing? Galadriel's mouth twisted into a small frown. "I am merely pointing out that you have a choice. It did not vanish the moment you met Rumil and it remains now he has departed."
Galadriel turned away from the mirror and glided smoothly across the glade. "There is no mirror to guide you. You must look inside yourself to find where your destiny lies."
Eruanna followed the Lady as she ascended the stairs and disappeared from sight. The only sound remaining in the small glade was the rustling of leaves and the trickling of water as it gathered in the small pool. She stared at the glittering falls trying desperately to forget Galadriel's words. Her attention shifted to the mirror. She stepped closer and looked down into its calm surface. Only her reflection stared back, angry eyes seeking answers, but the water refused to speak.
Why shouldn't I sail? There is nothing for me here!
But even as the words formed in Eruanna's mind, her reflection called them lies.
Eruanna thought back to her time in the White City, to its strangeness and allure. True, she cared little for its court, but the libraries, they were massive and in desperate need of a loremaster's care.
The books were tempting, and so were the children…
Eruanna had never seen so many children in her entire life and while she'd done her level best to avoid the courtiers, their children were another matter entirely. Word spread quickly of her skill at storytelling. Every afternoon Eruanna found herself surrounded by a sea of eager young faces gazing up at her. At first, the size and enthusiasm of her audience was overwhelming, but by the third day she came to look forward to afternoons with the children.
By the end of the visit, her audience included not only children but other members of the court as well - wise counselors and scholars alike. They would linger after the tale was done to verify a fact or argue a point of history. It was stimulating. The sophic Men of Gondor respected her as a being of age and wisdom. In Middle Earth, among Men, she would be a Lady of high renown.
But in Valinor…what regard will I find in Valinor?
It was not pride or vanity that drew this thought from the recesses of Eruanna's soul. If she were only an elleth of common birth there would be no cause for such concern. She would merely be one grain of sand among many. But she was no mere elleth-she was peredhel.
What will the Elves in Valinor think of me?
True, she would not be the only half-elf in the West. Elrond will be there with his mother and father – peredhil born of great houses that changed the courses of history. Such deeds would surely redeem their mortal blood, but for Eruanna, no counterbalance existed.
There were other matters to consider as well. Eruanna had not forgotten her mother and, though it pained her to admit it, she still harbored fear that Irimë would be better off without her. But she missed Haldor and Ithilwen terribly and longed to see them both again. What would they think of her if they waited all these years and she never came?
And what of Arwen? How difficult her choice, to live and die alone among Men. If Eruanna remained behind, neither would have to die alone. It was a thought as terrifying to Eruanna as it was comforting.
Yet, there were promises she'd made, promises to watch over Elrond, comfort Celebrían, and admonish the twins at need. Eruanna doubted, however, that her presence or absence would make any difference at all in the Music of their lives and there was still no certainty that Elrohir and Elladan would sail, for they refused, even now, to speak of their decision.
Erestor...she'd promised him he would never lose her. Could she break such a promise now, after all the love he'd shown her? Would he hate her forever? Would she condemn him to fade from grief? Eruanna loved her adar and didn't know if she could bear to be parted from him forever.
Rumil…her eyes filled with tears at the thought of him. Would he ever come back? If he did, and she was not in Valinor waiting for him, would he fade from grief? If there was even the slightest possibility that her choice could condemn Rumil or Erestor to death, did she really have a choice?
Eruanna exhaled deeply and, taking one last look into the mirror, turned away from her reflection and the calm, silent waters. There were no answers to be found in the mirror's depths, they could only be found within her own.