Sìneag spent the day with a lump in her throat, dreading the inevitable. All around her the world continued on, spinning as it must, but in her mind everything rushed by too quickly. Too short was her breakfast with Tammara, too rapid was the embrace she gave and the felicitations of her birthday she pronounced while bouncing up and down, too brief was Sìneag's surprise at opening the gift hers sister and Mairead had bought her – a solid silver pocket watch with a swirling knot design etched on the front. Tears formed in Sìneag's eyes at the gift and she hugged both women tightly, afraid they would notice her tears were not just out of happiness but sadness.
The day seemed all the more rapid when Grier asked to speak to Sìneag outside, alone.
"This may not be the best day to do this," he announced, pacing and clasping and unclasping his hands, "but I've fallen in love with your sister. And, as she has no father to ask, I turn to you to ask permission to court your sister."
Sìneag gave a joyful burble and swept him up into a hug. "You wonderful boy," she cried, blinking away tears. Gratitude. She was filled with nothing but gratitude to this man, knowing that he would do well for Tammara in her absence. "Yes, you may court my sister. Do her well, Grier, and love her as much as you can in the time that is given to you."
Grier looked relieved and delighted at her response, but troubled as he thought upon her words. "Is something the matter, Sìneag? This ominous tone is much unlike you."
"Yes, it is," Sìneag admitted. "And yes, something is the matter. But I cannot tell you. Not yet. Later, when the time is right… not that I have much time."
She wandered off into the garden, trying to calm her feelings, leaving a flabbergasted Grier in her wake. She felt guilty for ruining his joy with her own fears but it was hard not to want to break down right then and there and tell them this would be the last day she would see them, perhaps forever. Then again, Tammara and Grier would have each other for many days beyond now. Sìneag had but this final one.
In the afternoon, Mairead uncovered a cake she had baked, a pristine white and lavender iced concoction that tasted as delicate as it looked. Along with a fresh pot of tea, Sìneag's little family and the nearby neighbors celebrated her new age and presented their well-wishes for the future. Damhán even appeared, lingering in the background and looking highly uncomfortable. It was after Frida had made a speech about how much Sìneag had done and how much she had grown that Sìneag realized she could no longer evade the truth.
"I'd like to make a speech," she said, standing up on her chair to be certain that people could see and hear her. "As you know, I have put down roots here in our new town of Dale and I have never been happier than I have been living with all of you."
There were cheers and toasts and the popping of a cork as someone opened a bottle of wine to toast her.
"This place has become my home, in so many ways more than one. I have a wonderful family, wonderful friends, and a wonderful life. However, I have to leave this all behind me."
Silence suddenly fell through Mairead's home as Sìneag said this. Tammara looked confused and Mairead appeared hurt.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you in this way," Sìneag said, looking deeply in to her sister's eyes, "but time is short. When I brought the elves to help rebuild our village, I made a deal with their king. I promised that I would return the favor to him when he needed my help. He has called upon me now and I must leave tonight, before nightfall. I cannot promise that I will ever return. And so… I'm afraid this is goodbye."
"Wha-what?" Tammara cried, tears forming in her eyes. "No, you can't go! You left me once before; I won't let you do it again!"
Her sister's pleading instantly made her gush into tears but Sìneag forced herself to stay collected, even while tears ran down her face. "I cannot break the promise I made. It would make it worse for us all. We have a good relationship with the Mirkwood elves and I cannot jeopardize that."
"You are correct," Damhán said from the back of the room. "We cannot jeopardize that. However, it would have been beneficial for us as a collective to know that you had made this bargain long before it came to pass."
"My apologies," Sìneag said coldly. "I did not realize when I made it what sort of sacrifice it would ask of me. If I had," she glanced at her sister, "I would never have kept it a secret to begin with."
"A birthday and a farewell," Mairead said sadly. "All the more reason to celebrate you while we can." She wrapped her arms around Sìneag and lifted her off the chair. Tammara leapt towards her and wrapped her arms around Sìneag's waist.
"I don't want you to go," Tammara murmured.
"I don't want to leave," Sìneag replied. "But I will be with you every day I am gone, in spirit. Mairead and Grier will be here for you. You will not be alone."
"But you will be," Tammara said, her bottom lip trembling.
"Not really," Sìneag smiled sadly. "Not as long as I've got a sister like you that loves me. Now come," she said. "Let's celebrate and dance and be proud of our home. Because no matter where I travel, my heart will always be here."
They danced, ate, drank, and sang though the air was filled with a lingering sadness. As the sun began to slip closer and closer to the horizon, Sìneag became more anxious. She disappeared into her house to back her bag and found Mairead waiting for her, idly stirring a cup of tea.
"Grier told me you agreed to his intention of courting Tammara," she said. "Your sister will be overjoyed."
"She will," Sìneag said. "I'm so happy for her to have him and you in my absence. I couldn't have wished for better people to have spent the last ten years with."
"And we couldn't have been happier than to have been with you," Mairead said, tears forming in her eyes as she hugged Sìneag. "I'm glad that if you had to leave, it is now. Partings are sorrowful, but the timing on this one feels right. Maybe I simply feel that way because I've been so focused on time, buying your watch and seeing you grow and thinking about my son and your sister together. But the timing does feel right. And I believe that, when the time is right again, you will return to us."
Mairead handed her a bag. "I took the liberty of packing your things, along with some provisions and a water sack. It isn't much, but it will get you by. Who knows what the elves have planned for you."
"Who knows indeed," Sìneag sighed.
When at last the first colors of twilight had painted the sky, Sìneag slung her bag over her shoulder and painfully said her goodbyes. To Damhán it was easy but uncomfortable. As much as she struggled to like him, he had changed and Sìneag could not continue to always use the past against him. It was hard to say goodbye to Frida and Tófi, perhaps because while they had played small parts in her life, they had been incredibly important and supportive of her. When it came to saying goodbye to her family, it hurt more than she anticipated. Grier and Mairead hugged her forcefully and Tammara refused to let go until the last possible second when the sky began to grow darker and Sìneag feared making Legolas impatient.
The hardest part was taking the first steps away from Mairead's home into the darkening streets. It was like tearing open an old wound. But once she had moved on out of sight, it became easier, given Sìneag didn't think upon what she had done and where she was going.
Legolas was waiting for her, as promised, on the edge of town. He seemed to glow in the ebbing twilight and Sìneag could not help but think how majestic he looked. It strangely calmed her down and she found herself peacefully approaching him.
"I am ready," she said softly. "For whatever Thranduil has planned. I am ready."
Legolas smiled. "Then let this new journey begin."