Chapter Sixty-One

~ Tinúviel ~
I walked slowly through the houses of healing, careful not to trip on anyone or bump into any of the healers rushing around.

Elladan and Elrohir were among the healers, as was Aragorn and some of the other Dúnedain who knew of the healing arts. My mother was also involved, splitting her attention between helping Mithrandir and the city council as well as seeing to it that the people of Minas Tirith were given the food and supplies they needed. Eldarion was seeing to all of the warriors, helping to calm them from the terrors of the battle, making sure each was treated for his wounds, and seeing to the horses. With all of their duties, I was finding they were forgetting to eat sometimes, so I had taken it upon myself to help restore the kitchens and then ensure that all of my family got the food they needed.

But it wasn't just my family I was seeing to.

Finally, I saw the two people I was looking for and veered towards them. I carefully set the tray down besides Éomer, who had not budged from his vigil over his sister ever since she had been moved here.

I sat beside him. "Lord Éomer," I said gently.

He started, looking at me with eyes that were full of exhaustion and fear.

I placed my hand on his. "Lord Éomer, you must eat. You'll be no help to anyone, especially your sister, if you allow yourself to starve to death."

"Help Éowyn first," he told me. His voice was scratchy and raw, from disuse and grief. "Please."

I sighed. I was not as good a healer as Aragorn or my sister, but I knew the basics. And if that was what it would take to get Éomer to eat, so be it. I could at least determine what was wrong and have the necessary supplies for when Aragorn or one of the sons of Elrond managed to see to her and actually heal her.

Sweeping back the light skirt of my dress, I fervently thanked my mother for insisting that I wear the coarse yet durable riding dresses.

I placed my hand on Éowyn's forehead and was startled by how cold she was. I focused on her aura, disturbed, and the coldness seeped into me as well. Of course. The Witch-King of Angmar. His poisons had sunk their claws into Éowyn, and it would take a skilled healer to draw them out.

That, and athelas.

I had opened my eyes and was just rising when a voice said, "Lady Tinúviel."

I turned with relief to find Aragorn there. "My lord Aragorn. She suffers greatly. The Witch-King dealt her a terrible blow."

He knelt beside Éowyn, frowning. "Yes, so I see," he murmured. He looked up at me once, and I nodded.

"I'll get some," I assured him.

When I returned a few minutes later, Aragorn was very gently dabbing water on to Éowyn's injured arm and on her forehead. He took the athelas gratefully, and the bowl of water I had also brought along.

When I rose to leave, Éomer caught my hand.

"Yes, Lord Éomer?" I prompted.

"I . . . I thank you," he said finally.

I smiled. "It is the least I could do after the aid you and your sister have rendered. Your names will live on in history for eons to come."

I left him staring, puzzled, at me.

Éomer wasn't the only one keeping a silent and unbreakable vigil over someone who lay in a coma without any signs of life. He wasn't the only one worrying over someone. He wasn't the only one who was ignoring his own need for food and water and rest.

I had to tend to Legolas.

~ Legolas ~
"~How is she?~" Tinúviel asked quietly.

I raised my eyes from Estel's motionless figure long enough to answer, "~There has been no change.~"

Ever since Estel had collapsed on the Pelennor Fields, she hadn't awoken. And when I had cast my senses towards her, seeking the bright and vivacious aura I had come to expect from her, I had found her spirit . . . not gone, per say, but wandering. Lost. Drifting. The Elessar upon her neck was quiescent and deceptively innocent looking.

"~Such a thing has not happened in all of our legends,~" Tinúviel murmured, sitting on the bed by her sister.

I nodded in sad agreement. Estel had told me that before this. Only now did it sink in just how otherworldly and strange it had been for the Elessar to act up that way.

"~Has Mithrandir tried?~" she asked.

I sighed in despair. "~He's tried, Aragorn's tried, your mother's tried – they all have. It's made no difference.~"

Tinúviel's face crumbled into infinite sadness, until she looked as though she was as old as Lord Elrond himself. Estel was, after all, her little sister, and even though they were so different, they also cherished each other beyond belief. The bond between the three siblings was immensely strong.

"~What I would that Lord Elrond was here,~" she whispered. "~He would know what to do.~"

"~My father tends to my sister,~" explained a solemn voice.

We both looked up to see Elladan and Elrohir standing in the doorway, staring sadly at Estel's still and silent body.

Elladan smiled at Tinúviel gently and both twins bowed gently to her. "~Ah, Lady Tinúviel,~" he said. "~My father told me of you. We are honored to meet you, you who are gifted with beauty of our ancestress, Lúthien Tinúviel.~"

She blushed at his words. "~And I am honored to meet the renowned sons of Lord Elrond of Imladris,~" she replied, curtseying to each of them.

Elladan reached out to her. "~Nay, cousin, do not. You have no need to. We are blood kin, Tinúviel, do you not recall?~"

"~If you are quite done flattering the Lady Tinúviel,~" I interrupted, "~would you be kind enough to explain what ails your sister? I have not heard that anything was wrong with Arwen Elrondiel to the point that Lord Elrond must especially tend to her.~"

That wiped the smile from their faces.

"~Our sister fell ill shortly after refusing to go with the Elves traveling to the Grey Havens,~" Elladan said soberly.

"~And our father fears that her life has become tied to the fate of the Ring,~" Elrohir added.

Tinúviel's eyes widened. "~Oh my goodness. . . How is she?~"

The twins shared a single, grave look.

"~We can only pray that the Ring will be destroyed and she will live,~" Elladan answered sadly. "~That is about all we can do. So we came here to help in our father's stead.~" He gestured then to Estel. "~What ails her?~"

As quickly as possible, I explained about what had transpired before the gates of Minas Tirith, but I withheld the words Estel had spoken. I didn't think it was time to start discussing them, and I was sure that even if we did we would get nowhere. I knew Estel had not spoken consciously, and so there was even a chance that even she herself would not understand. Better, I thought, to wait until a more appropriate time.

The twins were quiet when I finished.

"~And she has been unconscious ever since?~" Elladan asked.

"~Nothing we have done has caused her even to stir, much less rise,~" I said sadly. The helplessness of my situation returned to haunt me, as powerfully as before. Every part of me screamed that I should act to aid my beloved, but I had no clue how to even begin.

"~What have you tried?~" Elrohir pressed.

"~We have tried healing her, and calling to her,~" I said. "~Nothing has worked. She will not even respond when Aragorn invokes the power of the King and athelas.~"

Deeper frowns marred the twins' faces as they realized the true magnitude of the situation.

"~That bodes ill,~" Elladan murmured.

"Elladan? Elrohir?"

A startled voice drew our eyes to the doorway, where Aragorn had stopped dead and was currently staring at the twins as though he had never seen them in his entire life. He looked exhausted, but surprise still managed to lighten his features.

"~Well met, Aragorn,~" the twins said as one. "~Now, can you explain to us why you have not managed to call Estel back?~"

After a long and lengthy interrogation, the twins remained deep in thought. But when I saw them exchange a glance, I knew they were thinking of something. After all, their father was counted as one of the best healers on this side of the sea. Surely they had an idea of what could possibly be done – at least to try . . .

"~What is it?~"

They shared another glance, this one uneasy.

"~Have you declared your love for her and she for you?~" Elrohir asked suddenly.

I blinked. "~How . . . Never mind. Yes.~"

Relief washed through their faces even as I questioned more severely how in the name of the Valar they could have guessed, much less known.

"~Your face gave it away,~" Elladan explained absently. "~Legolas, have you tried calling her?~"

I blinked again, startled. "~No . . . Why?" I mean, I wasn't the healer; healing was not an expertise I really focused on in the past and so my experience was limited. Aragorn was by far more skilled.

"~Try to,~" Elrohir urged. "~Your love ties her to you. It is possible that Aragorn failed because only you can call her back. He has the call of the King, and of blood kin. You have the call of love. Which did you really think would be stronger, Legolas?~"

I was too desperate to really argue.

Moments later, I smoothed my fingers over Estel's forehead and closed my eyes, concentrating as hard as I could on Estel, my feelings for her, and her aura. The sweet, cleansing scent of athelas entered my system as Aragorn crushed the leaves and held them nearby, invoking the call of the King as well to aid my call to Estel and help heal her. Very gently, I called to her as I had seen Aragorn call to those he had treated. Only there was a slight difference.

"~Estel. Estel, you have slept too long. Walk no more in the shadows, but awake. The shadow is gone and all darkness is washed clean. Please, awake!~"

Then, as quietly as I could, I whispered, "~Please, meleth-nin."

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then something changed. Estel's chest suddenly heaved as her lungs expanded, and her eyelids fluttered open, slowly yet surely. For a moment, she looked about her in confusion; but then she saw me. Her blue-grey eyes focused on my rapidly watering ones, and a small, sweet smile crossed her lips as she reached a hand to touch my cheek.

"~You called me back,~" she said, her voice raw.

But to me, it was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard in my entire life.

I clasped her hand against my cheek, leaning forward to kiss her gently on the hair, forehead, and lips. Relief and affection were making my heart swell so much I began to fear that my chest would no longer be able to contain it. But that was the least of my worries, for Estel was finally awake.

"~Always,~" I told her, my own voice raw with emotion. "~I will always call you back, meleth-nin.~"

Meleth-nin = my love

A/N: If the words Legolas used to call Estel back seem familiar to anyone, I took them from how Aragorn called Faramir and Éowyn, on pages 866 and 868 of The Return of the King respectively.