A/N: In this chapter and the next, I'm assuming it takes about two days to reach Mordor from Minas Tirith. The movie doesn't explicitly show this, but I don't recall the book covering it and I honestly don't think it'd take under a day to move the entire army. So I'm going with two. If I'm wrong, please excuse the lapse – I need the night camp for this chapter.
Chapter Sixty-Four
~ Kiria ~
I hugged my son carefully but tightly; I wasn't about to let him go off on this venture without a proper and thorough good-bye. All around me, other mothers and sisters were doing the same – but no fathers or brothers. Almost every Man had responded eagerly when Aragorn had requested assistance from Minas Tirith to shore up the losses of the army of Rohan, even those generally too young or too old to fight well.
I drew back. "~Take care of yourself,~" I commanded. "~And the others.~"
Eldarion's face was mixed exasperation and anticipation. He wanted to go, but he didn't really want to offend me. "~Yes, Mother.~"
I held back a sigh. Boys will be boys. And Men will be Men. "~Then go with my blessing.~"
I found Estel almost immediately afterwards; she was with Legolas, as I had thought she would be, and the tall Elf stood out even with the crowding of armored Men and horses and everything else. He was something out of this world, and it showed.
"~Be careful,~" I cautioned her.
Out of all my children, perhaps Estel was the most like the Elves – faithful and distanced, impulsive and keen, innocent and wise, all rolled into one person who could flip between the wise, solemn nature of the Elves to the focused, passionate nature of Men in an instant. Perhaps that was what drew Legolas to her so strongly, that mix of contrasts.
"~Always, Mother,~" Estel replied, her eyes already far away.
I sighed. I couldn't keep her back either. Even Tinúviel, my lady-like daughter, was going to battle this time, and Estel's nature was a far cry from her older sister's.
Legolas seemed to sense my unease. "~I will see to her safety, my lady,~" he said quietly. "~I will allow no harm to come to her.~"
I returned his gaze evenly. "~Even from you?~"
He didn't react physically; but I could sense his surprise. He had thought I hadn't known.
Oh, but it was so obvious! Almost as obvious as Tinúviel's longing for Haldir, almost as powerful as Aragorn's love for Arwen. I would have to be blind and deaf to not notice the singing power of the affection between my daughter and Legolas, and even then I would have to be extremely unobservant. My daughter could be fickle when she wished, and she was inexperienced in the matters of the heart – but she too had the quality of Men that made her reach out and hold on to a treasure when she found it and never let it go, not even when she was supposed to, not even when the Elven blood in her urged her to.
He recovered enough to say, "~You know?~"
"~Estel is as much as my daughter as Tinúviel and Eldarion,~" I replied simply. "~And I have been a mother for many years, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood.~"
He understood immediately.
"~I am not a prince to her, and I never intend to be, regardless of what she thinks or you think or anyone else thinks, even my parents. But Estel will be my queen, now and forever – always,~" he countered.
I kept my face impassive, but inside I relaxed a little. This was what I had sought from him.
I had reminded him of the difference in rank, and he had brushed it aside as the wind seeps dust from the field. He had nearly outright sworn to never let her falter in his heart, to never let the barriers keep them apart, to always have her at the forefront of his mind and heart and to worship her as a queen in his mind, even if she never was queen the way he was a prince.
"~I will protect her, my lady. And I will never ask more of her than she is prepared to give – or what I think is proper for her to give,~" he vowed firmly.
I held his eyes for a moment longer. Then I said merely, "~Then my daughter has chosen well.~"
I turned and walked away, and, when just looking upwards briefly, I glimpsed the figures of the Lady Éowyn and Lord Faramir standing together at the window, overlooking the winding procession of soldiers. They spoke briefly, and then Faramir reached gently to clasp her hand before Éowyn rested her head on his shoulder, soft smiles on both of their faces.
In spite of all this darkness and despair and death, I thought, a smile building on my own face, there is still enough light for love to bloom.
~ Eldarion ~
When we camped for the night, we made it a priority to erect as little tents as possible so that we could leave camp early the next morning and still have enough strength to take on the armies of Mordor. Due to this, I found myself squeezed in the same tent with my family, Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and a few others. Not that I was complaining, of course.
I sidled closer to Legolas, who was watching Estel with a faint smile on his face.
"~What did my mother say to you?~" I asked curiously.
Legolas turned to me, a faint frown marring his face. "~I beg your pardon?~" he asked politely, still tracking Estel in his peripheral vision.
I sighed in irritation. "~Valar, Legolas – relax,~" I said tartly. "~Nothing's going to bite Estel if you're not watching her like a hawk a hatchling. Now answer my question; I know you heard it.~"
His shoulders slumped somewhat, and I felt him turn his full attention upon me for the first time. "~She wished to confirm that my feelings for Estel were genuine, and that I would not abandon her because of her lineage,~" he explained. "~It is something every mother would do; surely you can agree.~"
I nodded slowly. "~So that is why. . . I guess I should have expected it.~"
"~Is that so?~" Legolas asked, one eyebrow arching.
"~Oh, yes. After all, I was a Ranger, out in the fields – no need to worry about marrying me, because it's the duty of the bride to contact the groom. And Tinúviel was already engaged to Círdan, so she was all set. . . But not Estel.~"
He closed his eyes, nodding as comprehension sunk in. "~Ah. . . So I see. You were worried she wasn't ready?~"
I smiled and grasped his shoulders. "~Not anymore. I think you'll do her justice, Legolas.~"
"~I certainly hope so,~" he murmured, turning back to watch Estel again.
As if she sensed his gaze, moments later she looked up, saw us, and skipped back to Legolas's side. Her clothing was subdued in color and made more for protection than a fashion statement, but her eyes were alight with enough excitement and happiness to cancel out even the dull grey and black of her attire.
"~Why are you two over here sulking?~" she demanded.
"~Just woolgathering,~" Legolas said gently. "~Never mind us.~"
She frowned at him and opened her mouth.
But she never got a chance to speak.
A winding alarm rose up at the camp's perimeter, followed by the sound of frantic shouts and fast running. At once, the atmosphere was filled with tension. Many hands went for and drew weapons, even my own. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Legolas reach out to pull Estel protectively against his side, one of his long knives already in hand. Then the running sound drew closer and a messenger burst through the tent flap.
"Riders, my lord!" he gasped. "Approaching fast, from the west side!"
"Who are they?" Éomer demanded.
"No one knows," he answered. "It is too dark to see the standard they bear, but it is no white flag of truce."
"Get the men ready," Aragorn ordered.
He locked eyes with Éomer, Legolas, Gimli, and me – we all nodded. As one, we rushed out of the tent, heading towards where our horses were stationed. There was the brief sound of an argument; and then I saw two figures mount Legolas's horse.
I sighed.
Estel. Of course.
But we were in too much of a hurry for even Legolas to try and persuade her to stay behind.
Sure enough, when we reached the west edge of camp, the riders were nearly nigh upon us. They moved . . . strangely, flowing across the desert with supernatural ease. Their standard rippled as they moved, making it impossible to make out, perhaps even if it had been broad daylight. Dust rose behind their mounts, which were obviously fresh and fast.
"What new devilry is this?" I heard Gimli grumble.
Just a few yards from the camp, the riders halted as one. Even the horses calmed and stood at attention, something which made my neck prickle.
Supernatural indeed.
There was silence, and then one of the riders spoke. In the dark, it was impossible to judge where the rider was. But the voice . . . it rose and fell like a bell's ring, pure and musical and otherworldly.
"We come in peace. We merely wish to join you."
"Who are you?" Aragorn asked.
In answer, the rider threw back the hood. Even with the faint quality of the firelight dancing around, the figure was immediately recognizable. Immediately, the other riders followed suit, and within minutes we were all dismounting and racing to meet in the middle.
It was the sons of Elrond, and warriors of Imladris and Lothlórien.
We all clasped shoulders, and then hugs were exchanged for Estel and Tinúviel. And all around there was laughter and greetings, in a mix of Elvish and the common speech.
That is, until a shout of surprise split the air.
"Haldir?"
~ Tinúviel ~
It was an amazingly sight, to see the warriors of Imladris grouped there, all under their standard. I was reintroduced to Elladan and Elrohir, and I found myself ever more grateful to them for coming to our aid in this desperate time yet again – and more than ever wanting to meet their father, who had done so much for us even though he himself was not here.
But he, as the twins said soberly, was tending to their sickening sister – my ancestress and namesake, and therefore rightly worried.
Something was different, though. Some of the warrior's accents were different, and they did not seem tied to the sons of Elrond. They even wore different armor, even though they bore no standard of their own.
One of the riders was still mounted. Frowning, I went to him.
"~You are among friends, sire,~" I said. "~You may rest among us in peace.~"
For a moment, the rider did nothing. Then he swung off, as graceful as the rest of his brethren, and landed lightly in front of me. He was taller than I had thought, but he remained hooded, so I could not see his face.
"~Sire?~" I asked uncertainly, taking a step back and resting a hand on the dagger strapped to my waist.
"~You need have no fear from me, my lady Tinúviel,~" he said softly.
For some reason, the voice reverberated within me – as if I knew it from somewhere that I didn't quite recall. It was like . . . I didn't know how to describe it. Like the sun and moon and stars all mixed together – like a rainbow sparkling in the sunset – like life. It was everything at once, all mixed together in a breathtaking collage that made my heart race.
"Haldir?" I nearly shouted.
He threw back his hood, smiling at me. The light danced over his face, shining clearly as people reacted to my shout. His blue eyes shone with amusement and affection – but they were fixed only on me.
He ignored everyone else, stepping forward to take my hands. "~Meleth,~" he whispered, "~are you really so surprised?~"
"But – But I – " I stuttered, too startled to speak in Elvish.
Haldir reached up to caress my cheek. "~You thought I had left for the Undying Lands.~"
"~Yes,~" I whispered.
He shook his head once, never letting his eyes leave me. "~There is nothing for me in the Undying Lands, meleth-nin. Not now that I have found you.~"
"But – "
He pressed his fingers against my lips, stilling my speech.
"~Perhaps one day I shall find the strength to leave you,~" he said soberly. "~But that day was not then, and is not now, and will not be for many years.~" He smiled again and placed his arms around me, drawing me closer. "~And I intend to cherish those years at your side while I still can. I will not leave you again – no matter what you say to me.~"
"~Oh, Haldir. . .~"
I buried my face in his neck, feeling the tears seep out – tears of happiness, now, though.
I knew he understood, and I knew for certain that he knew my surrender, for he tilted my chin upwards to catch my lips in a knee-weakening kiss that told me in no uncertain terms just how much he loved me.
Afterwards, when we separated, I found myself happily oblivious to all the wolf-whistles and gossip.
After all, even if I died, at least I would die knowing Haldir cherished me above anything else.
And that was worth more than a lifetime.
A/N: Yes, yes, I know Haldir left – or at least, we never see him again, so we all think he left. But I felt that it would be right to bring him back for this. Agree, disagree? Review and let me know!
Next chapter, we hit the Black Gate of Mordor! (And the surprise that awaits.)