Hi peoples! Good news, my last exam is tomorrow so I can probably update more often!

I only own my plot and OC's!

5

The Re-forging

Snow and I flew for three straight days, stopping only when I had to relieve myself. Eventually I saw the valley where I had lived most of my life for the first time in months. Snow touched down in a central courtyard.

There was a general uproar from the few Elves that were milling about.

"Lady Myraneth!"

"The Lady Wolf!"

"She's returned!"

"She's returned! The Lady of the Wolves! She's returned!"

"Hush," I told them, "I am not here for very long. Where are my Father and sister?"

An Elf with abnormally dark hair stepped forward. It was Rainelle, "Mae govannen, Lady Wolf. You must come swiftly. You told me to send for you if ever Lady Arwen was to sail. She is to depart at dusk."

"Take me to her, Rain. Her and Father."

Arwen was in her alcove, reading. When I saw her, I screamed, "Arwen!"

She didn't look at all surprised to see me, "Sister, I knew you would come."

She'd already done it. Her immortality, the Gift of the Eldar, had already left her body. My sister was totally and completely human. What she had wanted since Estel was sixty years old was finally happening.

And she could not look any more worse for wear. Her skin was so pale, and it looked as though she was behind on sleep. Her clothes hung off of her in a way they hadn't before. I stumbled back a few steps.

She laughed, "Do not worry, Myraneth. I will not look like this for long. I will be healthy once more in a few short days." I ran up and hugged her as tightly as possible, "But now you must see Father. He is in the forges."

#####

I left for the forges on my own. I was no smith, but I knew my way around.

Father was overseeing the reforming of Anduil, Flame of the West.

"From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring, renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king," The voice of Galadriel chanted this somewhere in my mind, and I added my voice to hers, "So you shall be, flame of the West, and in the King's hand key, let destruction be lessed."

My Father and I left in the evening, two days later. We both took a pegasi, me on Snow, and Father riding Alchemist, a rather bad-tempered palomino stallion. We rode for another four days. I could not remember the last time I had made a journey like this with my Father. It felt good to ride with him once more.

I saw the wolves first, but Father was the first to spot the battlements. We touched down silently in the darkness, and were noticed by not one person.

"Father, look!" I cried, "The Beacons! The Beacons are being lit!"

Sure enough, a fire sprung into being just below us. Far off in the distance, its hearlder burnt strong. In the opposite direction, another was being lit.

I had always loved watching the beacons be lit. Nowadays, it did not happen very often. The last time was at least three hundred years prior. But I used to sit on the edge of Lothlorien and watch the fire spread. It was a sign of hope.

There was just something about fire that drew me to it. Maybe it was the way it danced in the dark, or the wild side of it that had always reminded me a bit of myself.

Maybe it was the untamed beauty that reminded me of my wolves.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was all of the above.

I watched the lit beacons grow, and new ones spring up, far in the distance.

"Myraneth?" Father looked over at me, "Why are you crying?"

Tears were spilling down my face, but I just smiled up at him.

He nodded and smiled back. I knew he saw the beauty of it all, too.

I dismounted swiftly, and saw Father do the same. Without a word, he passed me the newly re-forged blade of the King.

I looked to him, and then understood.

He was letting me go.

I knew he'd known for longer than I had that I was to stay. That I was not Elf kind. But this was the first time he'd acknowledged it.

I sent a fleeting smile in his direction.

A few moments later, we awaited Aragorn's arrival in the King's tent.

My brother was clad but in a nightshirt and pants. He looked as though he had just tried to knife someone who had attempted to murder him in his sleep.

Without hesitation, I threw myself at him. My hood fell as I hugged him, and behind me, Father lowered his own.

"Myraneth? Ada?"

I pulled back, "We have done this once before, Estel. I bid you to not run as you have afore. This is your destiny," And I knelt before him, drawing the sword from beneath my cloak. Bowing my head, I rested it on my hands

"Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien
Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta

[Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come.
In this place I will abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.]

"It is true," I said when I finished the song, "Hail Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the vacant throne of Gondor and leader of all men." I felt Aragorn grasp the sheath and gently lift it from its resting place.

"The blade that was broken." Estel muttered.

"It has been remade," I stood, "It is now Anduil, Flame of the West. Bear it well, my brother, my king."

"I will never be your King, Myraneth. You are your own Queen. Lady Myraneth, of the Wild. The Girl of Greenplaces, you shall be called. Lady Myraneth Everyoung, Lady Myraneth Soarral, Lady Myraneth of the Wolves."

I smiled, but it turned solemn, "Too few have come," It was not a question.

"We will stand," Aragorn told us.

Father spoke for the first time, "There are those who dwell within the mountain."

"Murderers," Estel spat, "And traitors. You would have me call upon them. They answer to no one."

"They will answer to the King of Gondor! Aragorn, if they take the river, Minas Tirith is lost. There is but one choice."

Estel nodded gravely.

"I must bid you farewell," Father said, "Estel. Even if you are my son, I will not forgive you if you kill one of my daughters. Now, I must see Elladan and Elrohir, and then return to Arwen." Father left the tent.

Théoden returned, "Lady Myraneth? Who was that?"

I grinned, "Tell me, do you not recognize an Elf-lord when you see one? That was my Father, Lord Elrond Half-Elven." At the stunned look on the King of Rohan's face, I led Estel out of the tent. I stopped him not twenty feet away, "Estel. I will accompany you to the gate of the Paths of the Dead, but no further. I would do you no good in there. I will face my fears some other time, but not when your future kingdom is at stake. Where are Gimli and all the twins?"

"They're with Eryn. He just received some, well, bad news."

"Estel, I've been gone for almost two weeks. Who is Eryn?"

"You did meet him…oh, you left before he introduced himself. Eryn, Eryn Lasgalen, is the Fairy who came with Danny, Ro, Megan, and Kendara."

The Fairy.

And then, all of a sudden, I knew exactly why my heart had sped up every time I heard Estel say his name.

The Fairy that I had fallen in love with.

"But his name is Elfish!" I exclaimed.

Estel sighed, "The language of the Eldar is not that much different from that of the Fairies."

"What 'bad news' did he receive?" I asked cautiously.

"His brother was killed while on patrol in his homeland. That Sauron's arm has grown long enough to reach the Andelage, it is a frightening prospect."

"Oh, god."

"What's more," Aragorn halted abruptly, "Devlin was Eryn's half-brother. And he wasn't fully Fairy."

"A mixed-blood? Fairy-human, I'm guessing—"

"Well, you'd be wrong. Devlin was a Fairy-Elf. The last Fairy-Elf in existence. Myraneth, the Lord of the Wild is dead."