18

Down From Paths We Once Did Know

"This day does not belong to one man, but to all," Estel then began to sing, a song that I had taught to him. I sang along under my breath. Only Cassy, sitting in my arms, heard me.

"Why do you not sing louder, Mummy?" She whispered.

"Cassy, this is the day of Man, not Elves. This is not our day. We must leave it for Uncle Estel and Aunt Arwen."

"But Auntie Arwen is an Elf." Cassy said.

"Auntie Arwen is an Elf who's becoming human. Shh, Cassy, just watch."

And so she did. She was silent when she stepped forward with me, in front of her Grandfather and her Aunt Arwen, as we walked towards the new King.

Legolas and Everlas stood before him first, their remaining sisters flanking them. Legolas placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder and said, "Mae govannen, King Estel."

"Mae govannen, King Legolas. Mae govannen, Queen Everlas. Princesses." They parted ways for him, and he stepped towards us.

"Mae govannen, brother." I said.

"Mae govannen, sister. Mae govannen, Lord Lasgalen, Lady Casanovia." Estel bent down to Cassy's level when she tugged on his sleeve.

Casanovia's clear voice rose in song, louder than I had ever heard her sing before.

There and back again we go

Down from the paths we once did know

To step out in the wild lands

To step up and join our hands

For we are now free of shadow

And the cruel winds no longer blow

And further than we've ever gone

For ever shall we carry on!

I elbowed Eryn lightly, "Did you teach her that?"

He gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, which left me wondering where Cassy had pulled her song from.

I stole a glance behind me and found my answer.

Looking ahead once more, I found I was yet again face to face with my youngest brother, "Have you not a song for me, as well, sister Myraneth?" Estel grinned at me.

I replied in my normal tone, "You are pushing your luck, King Elessar. I'll not hesitate to inform your new subjects just who it was that changed your nappies when you were Cassy's age, and who exactly it was that spent six months attempting to latrine train you. And I say attempting because I'm almost positive that to this very day you have never relieved yourself with anything more than a few trees being between your head and the sky."

He chuckled, "Have you?"

"That's not the point!"

"Oh, but isn't it?" He chuckled again, "We are holding up the procession, Myraneth."

"Your fault, not mine."

Eryn and I split apart, him alone, and me with Cassy.

Behind us was a rather large banner, displaying the coat of arms of my house. Estel did not know who carried the banner until she shifted it slightly to the side.

Skin white as snow, lips red as blood, hair dark as night. But there upon her pale cream brow is the Evenstar light.

Lady Arwen, Evenstar of Rivendell, bowed her head to him and brought the banner back in front of her face. The gesture confused even me.

Fortunately for Arwen, Estel knew exactly what to do. He gently pulled the banner rod from her hands and pushed it to the nearest person—who just so happened to be Legolas. Cupping her cheek, Estel whispered something that even I could not hear, for it was for Arwen, and only Arwen.

Then he slid his hand down to under her chin, and kissed her.

Despite knowing about the relationship between Arwen and Aragorn for decades, I had never seen them together like this. Don't get me wrong, I knew all about their…ahem…'secret' rendezvouses, but I had never seen Estel kiss Arwen in the way he was now. This was a kiss of absolute passion, of absolute love. I knew the type. Eryn and I always exchanged similar kisses, right before we—well, I won't get into that.

#####

I was alone. Alone for the first time in a long time. Alone, bar Majesty and Rain.

Eryn had taken Cassy to meet his father and stepmother. I was to meet them, but I had some unfinished business with my cousins in Lothlorien to take care of first. Namely, I had to speak to Rumil and Orophin, and make sure they were alright.

They had lost their oldest brother.

When I rode into Lothlorien through the little-known entrance that used to be the outpost of Haldir, Rumil, and Orophin, no one noticed me.

This entrance used to be the one of Haldir, Rumil, and Orophin. Until Haldir had died, they had barely ever left. I had known the three of them to leave only thrice—once when the Fellowship came through the Goldenwood, and twice to answer the Call.

To most Elves, the Call was not optional. When the sun and the moon and the planets fell into a certain line, every hundred years or so, the moon fever that affected my race on the full moon every month became all that more potent. It was more than the urge to dance and sing under the silver circle—it was the Call of the Hunt.

It was the Urge to mate.

In a short aside, I realized the next Call was a short time in coming. Within the next century. Silently, I smiled to myself. I wondered if Estel was up for a night on the Hunt with Arwen, for she would surly Feel the Call. A Ranger caught off his guard, indeed.

Then I remembered. There hadn't been a Call for over a millennium. I knew this, for Ginny and Victoire had been conceived during the last Hunt. I had not yet been of age at the time, but had I been, well, let's just say that my last ride to war would not have been as chaste as it was had I been of age.

Even I, Lady of the Wolves, cannot ignore the Call.

But my estimate for the next Call was not off—it was indeed coming. What had caused the hiatus, I did not know. But it was coming.

I pulled my thoughts back to my cousins when Rain whinnied loudly. The colt backed into his Mother as an elleth landed right beside his head.

This was an Elf I had never seen before. She looked up at me questioningly and then said, "My Lady Myraneth."

I inclined my head to her.

"I am Altria, my Lady. My sister, Alatriel, and I watch this passage now."

"Will you take me before the Lady of the Goldenwood? I must at once speak to her before I search for my cousins, Rumil and Orophin."

Altria spun and bade me to follow her deeper into the woods. I dismounted and shadowed her lithe form.

Altria led me up familiar paths, paths I had run as a child, and only recently, when the Fellowship had passed through Lothlorien. One of the last times these Elves had seen me, I had been dragged off by Gladysis after some argument about dresses. Looking back—now that we had won the war and I was married to Eryn and had Cassy—the entire thing seemed so trivial. There had been and still were much bigger things to worry about.

"Altria, have you heard tell of my cousin's wellbeing?" I asked.

"Know I only that they spent some months in the wards of the Lady of Light. They have not oft been seen since they returned from Helm's Deep over a year ago."

I winced. I should have come sooner. The way Altria said 'over a year ago' made me feel guiltier than I had in a while.

After Helm's Deep, I had spoken only briefly to Rumil and Orophin. I could tell from one glance that they were not well, but neither had I myself been well. I knew that I could not be strong for them—there were so many others that I had to be strong for, and even then, I still failed them. I had to trust that my two cousins would be able to drag each other out of the darkness that they would surly fall into.

I had never before seen it done. Most Elves that fell into depression that deep never made it out—and those that did were never the same again.

Altria led me to the foot of the great stair that wound its way to my Lady's chambers.

"I have not leave to enter the rooms of the Lady and the Lord of the Wood," she told me, "I take my leave of my Lady here."

I nodded to her, but before I let her leave, I said, "The next time you see me, Altria, do not call me Lady. Please use my name."

For the first time since I had met her, Altria smiled. It was tiny and nearly not there at all, but she smiled all the same.

I turned and mounted the stairs, leaving Majesty and Rain grazing in the glade below.

I heard Celeborn's voice before I saw him, "I do not know if the end to this war was a good thing. At least twenty of our border patrol pairs have come in early because they requested maternity leave," it was obvious he was joking, "Darling granddaughter, you seem to have started a trend."

When I glided through the archway, Galadriel was sitting on an elegantly carved chair—a chair, if I remember correctly, that had to be replaced during the time that I had stayed here with Everlas, Legolas, and Arwen. Celeborn had evidently been pacing in front of her, having stopped abruptly when he sensed me.

"We're not out of the woods yet, so to speak," Celeborn said, "I wish they would stop playing with our defenses."

"Grandfather, what are you speaking of?"

He rounded on me sharply, "If I hear one more excuse of 'moon madness' or 'celebratory intercourse,' I will not hesitate to take someone's head off. This is beyond madness."

Galadriel laughed, "With what will you relieve them of their heads, husband? Your sword or the elaborate weapon that helped bring our children into this world?"

The tips of Celeborn's ears turned red.

I raised an eyebrow, "Who has claimed celebratory intercourse?"

"An entire twelve-Elf border patrol."

"Oh?"

"And only four of them are male."

"Oh." Celebratory intercourse, indeed.

Galadriel spoke, "Buy we digress. Granddaughter, you come to speak with your cousins."

"Yes, grandmother."

"You will find them in the solarium at the Roof. It is the only solace I can give them, I'm afraid."

I nodded to her and once more mounted the stairs. Turning back, I smiled at my Grandfather, "Listen for the Call to Hunt, Grandfather."

As I left, I heard him groan. Grandmother silenced him with a kiss.

And so I climbed. The trees were tall here, tall and ancient. They breathed freer than I had ever seen them. Even the magic of Galadriel's ring hadn't been enough to keep the shadow entirely at bay.

There was a short skywalk just below the solarium. I stopped exactly half way across and swung down into the netted hammock that hung underneath. Lying on my back and looking up, I peered through the delicate weave of the vines of the skywalk above me.

I hummed to myself until I heard rustling in the leaves above the skywalk.

There and back again we go

Down from the paths we once did know

To step out in the wild lands

To step up and join our hands

For we are now free of shadow

And the cruel winds no longer blow

And further than we've ever gone

For ever shall we carry on!

Sleep, little one

Let nothing trouble you

For day always dawns

And troubles always heal

If nothing else

Trust in thyself

And let the land of dreams

Take you away

There will always be a new day

A life that burns so brightly so

The way it ends just goes to show

How rightly we were to make him go

Hello, my friend, we'll meet again

I continued singing until they showed themselves. I sang ancient songs, new songs, and sometimes I just strung random words together. Still, the sound of my voice drew Rumil and Orophin out.

Orophin was very young—he was only a few years older than Legolas and Everlas. When both their father and mother had sailed for the Undying Lands, leaving the three boys, Haldir and Rumil had taken it upon themselves to raise the then one hundred-year-old Orophin. As far as I knew, Orophin had very few memories of his parents, Lord Haladan and my aunt, Lady Katella.

The rustling above my head grew louder.

"Rumil," I whispered, "I know it's you."

An acorn fell from between the branches. It bounced between my eyes and then made its way down the front of my tunic.

"Rumil, that was funny five centuries ago," I grinned, "Come down where I can see you."

Not one but four more acorns bounced off my head.

"Now you're just being childish!" But on the inside, I was overjoyed. If he could joke with me, even with something this small, then there was hope for both of them.

All of a sudden, I wasn't alone in the hammock.

He moved silently, ghost-like. Too silently, even for an Elf. The ghost image was reinforced by the gaunt skin stretched over his apparent cheekbones. His lips had lost their colour, and his eyes were sunken and red, as if he spent most of his time weeping. (Honestly, that was probably true.) Even his irises seemed devoid of colour. They were normally oceanic blue-green, the same colour as mine. He was the only one of my cousins who had my eyes.

My eyes traveled down his body with the skills of my experience as a healer. I'd seen worse cases of starvation before, but never had I seen someone starve themselves this badly. Keeping my face impassive, I undid the laces on the front of his tunic and examined his emaciated chest muscles. I could count every rib and trace both sides of his collarbone. His hip bones and shoulder blades stuck out. With no respect for his modesty, I stripped off his leggings, revealing a loose loincloth strung over too-thin hips and thighs. I ran a practiced hand over newly knobby knees and deteriorated calves.

"He would not be happy with this, Rumil," I whispered softly.

"He is no longer here," the response was so soft I could barely hear it. It was no more than a breath.

I lowered my voice even more, "He may not be, but Orophin still is."

"Orophin hasn't spoken to me in months. He blames me. I was closest to him."

Rumil wouldn't say Haldir's name.

"I didn't even know you were there. I thought you were on the battlements with Legolas."

"I was in the courtyard when the wall exploded," he rolled over and showed a recent scar on his thin back, "I got that seconds before it happened. If I hadn't have been injured, I would have been watching his back."

"He had Estel and me watching his back. He died saving Estel's life. Had Estel died, none of us would be here right now."

"You could have saved him with your healing magic."

There it was, the accusation that I had been waiting for. I was closest to him. I had the power to save him. I hadn't used the power. I had let him die.

I analyzed Rumil's face. There was no accusation in his voice, almost no emotion at all. But a spark had flared in his eyes, just for a moment.

"He told me not to," I said, "He said there were more important people that I had to save my magic for—people who I actually could save. Cousin Rumil, his skull was crushed. I'd have exhausted my already deplete stores of energy on a wound that I knew, deep in my heart, that I couldn't cure. I don't have the power, Rumil, to fix a crushed skull. Even if I could have rebuilt his brain, there's no telling if I could do it right. But he gave me the chance to heal almost one hundred other people who would have died without my help."

"One hundred Rohanian peasants?"

"One of them took an arrow for Legolas, another massacred almost fifty orcs by himself, and one of them is now King of Rohan," That wasn't exactly true. Eomer wouldn't have died from his wounds, but he also wouldn't have been able to walk. For a few years, "I also helped a woman give birth." A woman who had then named her daughter after my sword. Casanovia had met Myranaina when we stopped to visit Eomer and drop Eowyn off in Rohan after Aragorn's coronation.

Again, there was no emotion in his voice or on his face, "Yes, Myraneth, those were definitely worth my brother's life."

I stared at him, "How can you say that to me? I hate that I let Haldir die, Rumil, but there was nothing I could do. I was the first person to hold him when he was born, even before your mother, and I was the last person to hold him when he died. That was the first time that had ever happened to me, but Cousin, I know it won't be the last," I ran my eyes over him again, "Don't make me do it with you, as well. Please tell me that you've at least made your brother eat. What kind of example do you think you're setting?"

He didn't answer right away.

I stood up and swung myself back onto the skywalk, "Come, Cousin. We shall find your brother and get you both something to eat."

Rumil didn't look happy about it, but he allowed me to pull him up beside me. Together, we made our way slowly into the solarium.