The sky was black, no stars. His feet stumbled over the cobblestones. A figure in a green, hooded traveling cloak rather like his was walking ahead of him. Elden was running, and the figure was walking, but he never seemed to be able to catch up to it. As soon as he got close enough to reach out and touch it, the apparition would slide forward and round the next corner as if the ground were greased underneath it.
All around him, Gondor burned. Boulders crashed through the parapets, spreading the ground with rubble that seemed to bounce right through him. From the lowest street to the highest tower he followed that figure, and everywhere the flames leaped and licked at his heels, never scorching him.
At last they reached the white tree. It too was ablaze. Amidst the ash that fell like the first gentle snow of fall giving way to winter, the figure turned.
It was him.
The outline of his own face shimmered back at him, and as it raised its sword (his sword, he realized), a ring gleamed on its finger.
He was awake.
His eyes shot open as though they had been branded. First light was already gone and the morning was well under way. He turned over, and received a second shock which briefly made him grasp for the hilt of his weapon.
Nellas was sitting on a bench just feet from him, watching him. He swore, and allowed his muscles to unclench.
"You know, you really have to stop sneaking up on me."
"My apologies," She said, in a voice that somehow didn't allow him to retain his anger. "I wanted a word with you before you left."
Elden picked himself up off the ground and dust off his cloak before setting it on his shoulders and shutting the clasp. It had seen him through thick and thin, like almost everything he owned.
"I want to go with you."
The statement caught him flatfooted, but he tried not to show it. A good rule of thumb for life was to not let on any more than you had to. Knowledge of something equaled power over something, and he would never let anyone have power over him again. Every person had their tells, the difference being that he had found his a long time ago and worked to get rid of them. The elf had hardly any, as far as he could tell. Her face was almost always the picture of serene wisdom.
"What about-" he gestured around at Rivendell, "all this? Weren't you guarding it or something?"
"I told myself I was, and for a time I believed it, but not anymore. You changed my mind." Nellas said.
Elden was surprised. He hadn't known he had it in him to change an elf's mind, or that such a thing was even possible.
"I hope you understand that I'm just wandering. I stopped thinking about destinations a week ago and I haven't looked back. I don't have a plan."
"Neither do I." Nellas replied, "All I want to do is see the world outside. I've lived my entire life between Rivendell and Lothlorian."
"If you're going to travel with me, then we're traveling by my rules. That means I call the shots: direction of travel, when it's safe to light a fire, what towns we go into and which ones we avoid, savvy?"
The elf smiled.
"Perfectly agreeable."
"Uh…" Elden said, running out of conditions to impose. "I guess that'll be fine then."
His face suddenly felt flushed for some reason. Why had he been resisting so hard? Did he like talking to Smoke that much? True, he couldn't sing any annoying march songs, but he couldn't sing any good ones either. Conversation aside, there was also the small matter of Nellas being much easier on the eyes than Smoke.
Her own knapsack was already sitting beside her feet, fully stocked from the looks of it.
"How did you know I'd say yes?"
"I didn't, but I hoped you would."
They were both hunched over a map of Middle Earth, tracing paths that stretched many leagues with their fingers.
"If we're going to be on the road, I need to stock up on supplies in Bree." He said, producing a tightly stuffed coin pouch.
Nellas raised an eyebrow.
"Where did you get that?"
Elden winked.
"Don't worry about it. I thoroughly earned it, let's put it that way."
He seemed to be in a better mood today. Less distant, less somber. The horses were already awake, and were having a game of some sort, chasing each other around the hillside in high spirits.
"Vorath's horse seems to be enjoying itself."
Nellas nodded.
"She has consented to be named Aini. I believe she is altogether happier now that she has changed hands."
"How does a horse consent to something?" Elden asked.
"She is a Maeras. They are blessed among horse-kind, being swifter of foot and more intelligent. I have no doubt that she can understand the speech of men, so watch your words."
"I'll make sure not to call her a cart-horse within earshot." He replied sarcastically.
"What is yours called?" She asked, ignoring him.
"Smoke."
"Really? What prompted that moniker?"
"He's fast and slippery. Look, even the Maeras can't keep up."
It was true. While the stallion couldn't quite catch up to the other horse, neither could the other horse catch up to it. At last their chase broke towards where they standing and both horses arrived panting and out of breath.
Elden picked up his saddle from where it had been lying on the ground and cinched it back on to Smoke, pulling himself up onto it when he was done. Nellas forsook saddle and bit entirely to ride Aini bareback, without reins. They didn't dawdle much. Nellas had already taken exactly what she thought she could use and nothing more. She had said all her silent goodbyes the previous night after Elden went to bed. Still, there was a little lump in her throat as they crossed over the bridge for the last time.
She cast a glance over her shoulder, and one of the statues winked at her. Around it's pedestal, the inscription in Tengwar glowed faintly and then faded back to the color of stone. They still had enough power in them to protect Imladris for many ages hence.
Soon they had gone up the twisting path and out of the valley that the humans called Rivendell. The clouds were plentiful today, stretching out into long lines like sandbars in the sky. The sunlight would play over them one second, only to be hidden the next as one of the slowly advancing fronts crossed before it, casting a shadow. Thankfully the Ford of Bruinen had not yet been swollen by melt water from the Misty Mountains, and was easily cross-able.
"The edge of the wild..." Nellas murmured softly.
"Aye, but which edge? The wilderness is all around us."
He had very sharp ears for a human, she had noticed, and a sharp tongue as well. She enjoyed having someone to talk to after so long, and they chatted amiably as the horses trotted along, none of them in a particularly great hurry.
He was full of odd sayings that she had never heard before, for example, when she had asked him why he had become a thief, he said simply: "There are two ways of looking at the world, but only one when you're starving", which had made her feel rather foolish for asking in the first place, an emotion she had not felt in a very long time.
As they talked, she tried to find out more about him in her round-about way, gently steering the subject of conversation towards him. It was not easy to do. While most humans she had had experience with were proud and even boastful creatures, Elden was reserved with what he shared, as if he was keeping a mental tally of what he had told her. By and by, the topic moved to ancestors, and Elden had asked if her parents were waiting for her in Valinor. Nellas confessed, rather matter-of-factly, that she was an orphan.
She found she often had to do this: offer up some tidbit of information about herself to get a similar one from Elden. It was a little game of wits they played. When she asked him about his parents, she feigned ignorance, even though she could already guess a great deal from what she had overheard. He paused, as he often did before telling the truth.
"I don't feel anything for my mother, really. I never met her in the first place, so I guess I can't miss her all that much. I suppose I would have liked to have had a mother, but... ah well. You can't always get what you want."
He stared straight ahead, smiling that painful, mask-like smile, and she felt something move in her, another emotion that had been left untouched for some time: pity.
"How did your parents die?" He asked, in that same matter-of-fact tone that she had used.
"They were riding together with a group of messengers to Arnor and orcs ambushed them. Sauron's power was on the rise then, and they were overwhelmed."
"Is that why you staid?" He said.
"What do you mean?"
"Did you stay behind so you could die a mortal death and see them again?"
Something snapped in her mind, a barrier she had been holding up by the thinnest of supports. A torrent of feelings crashed through, things she had resisted thinking about, things she had filed away and hidden, resolving to deal with them later but never fully doing so. To her credit, she did not scream, but her voice did become suddenly cold.
"Certainly not, don't be a fool."
Elden looked stung by this remark, but he said nothing. As the waves crashed over her and began to subside, her anger retreated back into shame. He had asked her an honest question and she had behaved like a scolded child.
"I'm sorry." she said at length. "It was not a foolish question."
"Don't be sorry." Elden said, although his voice betrayed a hint of crossness which said she should had every right be sorry, thank you very much. "I know the feeling."
"Probably much better then I do, in fact." Nellas supplied. "My parents are myths to me. You knew one of them well before he died."
Elden shrugged.
"Humans have a way of forgetting the things that hurt them."
They went the next mile or so in silence, before Nellas decided to explain further. She was done playing games with him, trying to coax Elden out of his shell while remaining firmly in hers. It wasn't fair to him.
"I still have the choice, actually, between mortal and immortal life."
He turned to look at her, and she saw in his eyes that animal mixture of awe and envy that all men had when looking upon the face of elven longevity. She returned the look.
"I believe I will have that choice for some time yet, but not forever. My kin have left for Valinor, and their power has gone with them. Their fate is tied to mine. As I continue to walk Middle Earth my own power will wane, fading as theirs fades from memory. Now is the age of men."
"Is it now?" Elden said, as though he was highly skeptical of the pronouncement.
"It is." Nellas said firmly. "The fourth age of Middle Earth belongs to the race of men."
"What you mean to say is that the fourth age of Middle Earth belongs to some men. The fourth age belongs to the rich, the powerful. The fourth age belongs to men like King Éomer and King Ellesar, at the head of their great host. The rest of us must fend for ourselves, as we have always done."
This struck her as a bit ungrateful, but she could understand the sentiment. The edicts of scholars had little immediate effect on the short and bitter lives of the common folk.
"You said your power is waning?"
"Yes." She said.
"Does that mean you are a sorceress who can wield magic?"
She almost laughed aloud at the question. Elden was describing in terms of a club what should rightly be understood as a song; the echoes of a beautiful melody that still reverberated, waiting to be changed or altered slightly to achieve the singer's ends.
"Yes, I was trained in Lothlorien and have no small amount of skill, but it is a talent shared by all elves to some degree."
"I figured as much. Statues don't get up and move on their own without a good deal of magic."
"I do not understand what humans mean when they use the word 'magic'. They seem to use the same word to refer both to the power of the elves and to the deceits of the dark ones."
"If something happens, which by all rights should be impossible, that's magic." Elden said.
"A very broad definition, to be sure. To a person who is blind, is not the gift of sight a magic?"
Elden was silent for a moment, and she could almost see the wheels turning behind those blue eyes.
"I suppose so."
The Great East Road led them on inexorably, through the swampy barrens that abut the Trollshaws and over the Last Bridge, a title that struck Nellas as pretty presumptuous. They left the road as it grew dark, at Elden's insistence. They had passed no travelers that afternoon, and far in the distance she could see the bald crown of Weathertop. They made camp in a shallow culvert some ways from the path, giving them a direct line of sight up and down it, yet concealing them behind a thick stand of brush. Elden also insisted that they make no fire, as they were still very close to the road and there were always prying eyes about. There was a small disagreement over who would take first watch, with Nellas finally winning out on the argument that her eyes were sharper and that her circadian rhythm was more of a suggestion than a hard and fast rule. Elves and sleep had a curious relationship.
It was an argument in vain, however, as the sound of cart wheels and harsh voices alerted them both soon afterward. There were orcs on the road.