I can't believe it's been over two years since I last updated - let alone that I started this story over ten years ago when I was a lonely wee student! Apologies for the mammoth delay again, but I got married, got a lecturing job and fanfiction just kept falling further and further down my to do list.
This story is very nearly done now - there will only be two more chapters. My sincere thanks to all of you who have stuck with it all this time, it means more that you can imagine. I hope you enjoy it's conclusion.
The departure of so many loved ones was keenly felt and it was some months before Faelwen, Haldir, Elladan or Elrohir felt tranquil again. Only the knowledge that they would see their families again when the time to sail eventually came, staved off total despair.
They distracted themselves with work; throwing themselves into assisting Legolas with the founding of Ithilien and continued to visit Aragorn and Arwen as much as possible. The colony grew and grew and soon began to prosper. A further source of new delight were Aragorn and Arwen's children. Their son Eldarion was born just as the colony in Ithilien had become fully established and his birth was shortly followed by the arrival of four daughters.
All five were utterly adored by their elven relatives.
Midwinter's Morning, early in the fourth age
"Aunt Faelwen! Uncle Haldir!" the sound of tiny hands knocking at the door and the clear, high voice of Silivren – Aragorn and Arwen's youngest daughter – stirred both Faelwen and Haldir. "It's morning time!"
Faelwen looked at the window with a sigh – it was still dark outside. She and Haldir, along with her brothers, were spending the Midwinter festival with their family in Minas Tirith. They had only arrived from Ithilien yesterday and had sat up most of the night with Aragorn and Arwen, catching up on recent news. Consequently, they had been asleep for only a few hours. The knock came again.
"She's your niece!" Haldir joked into his pillow, pulling the blanket up over his head.
"Yours too – you married me!" Faelwen grinned in return as she slipped out from under the covers and crossed over to the bedroom door. Opening it, she found a dark haired little infant, barefoot and in a nightgown, beaming up at her on the threshold.
"Silivren, where are your slippers?" she chided the little one mildly, lifting her up into her arms and feeling her frozen little feet. "You will catch a cold!"
"I couldn't find them," Silivren said cheerfully, eyes wide and sparkling. "I was excited because it's morning time and it's Midwinter's day!"
"It is not morning just yet," Faelwen told the four year old patiently, carrying her over to the window. "See, the sun is still abed, just like little girls should be. Come along now, let's see if you can sleep some more before it's time to get up."
She tucked the cold little infant into the bed between herself and Haldir but Silivren was far too excited to sleep; reminding Faelwen almost painfully of another dark-headed little child who had invaded her room on a Midwinter's morning which seemed like a lifetime ago. She giggled and chattered and asked questions and it was not long before Faelwen and Haldir gave up any notion of sleeping again and instead started to play silly little games to keep Silivren amused until breakfast time. This was no difficult task, as she was the most good-natured child imaginable, wearing an almost permanent smile.
"Look, aunt, the sun is out of bed!" She cried excitedly a few hours later, pointing to the frost-covered window. "It's morning time now!"
"All right then," Faelwen laughed indulgently, lifting her out of bed in order to keep her little feet off the cold stone floors. "Then let's go back to your chamber and get you dressed before your mother and father find out you have been roaming the corridors."
"Oh I went to see them when I woke up, but they were wrestling," said the child guilelessly, oblivious to the horrified looks Faelwen and Haldir exchanged over her head. "So I came to find you and Uncle Haldir instead."
Haldir immediately distracted her with talk of presents and Faelwen, unimaginably grateful for the change of subject, whisked her niece off to get her washed and dressed. She made a mental note to remind the King and Queen of Gondor to look their door at night!
It was a larger group than usual who joined the King and Queen to break their fast that Midwinter morning. Not only were Haldir, Faelwen and the twins staying with them, but Legolas and Gimli were also in Minas Tirith for the festival. Completing the group were the king's steward Faramir, his wife Eowyn and their young son Elboron.
The six children were in infectiously high spirits and, once the meal was done, the visitors happily indulged them with their attention as gifts were exchanged. The boys immediately laid claim to Legolas and Gimli to show them their toy swords and bows and begged for favourite old stories of their adventures to be told again. The girls – who all had both twins absolutely wrapped around their little fingers – did likewise with their elven kin; scholarly little Morwen ran to show Haldir her new storybook, Silivren took up residence in Faelwen's lap with her doll while Merelin and Varanna laid claim to the twins.
All was going relatively harmoniously until Morwen asked for a turn at holding her brother's sword.
"Girls cannot fight," said Eldarion with all the superior loftiness of a nine year old over his younger sisters. "It is the boys who must defend the kingdom!"
Legolas had just started to reprove Eldarion, pointing out that without Lady Eowyn, one of the war's biggest battles might have been lost, when Silivren's high little voice filled the room:
"Girls can so fight, Eldarion! Mama wrestles with Papa! I saw them this morning!"
Legolas froze mid-sentence as everyone turned to look at the mortified king and queen of Gondor. Faelwen pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress the laughter that bubbled in her chest at the sight of their utterly horrified faces. Torn between amusement and embarrassment, no one seemed to know what to say in front of the children. An awkward silence filled the room.
"Do you fight with Papa, Mama?" Morwen, a year older than Silivren and the most solemn of all the children, asked anxiously from where she was sitting on Haldir's knee. She seemed worried at the thought of her parents warring with each other. Gimli snorted into his goblet and Faelwen could see Legolas shaking with suppressed laughter.
"Well, you see, it is not really fighting…" Aragorn began rather awkwardly, a flush high on his cheekbones. He glowered reprovingly at his two comrades.
"So why do it then?" asked Eldarion confusedly.
"It is not a sparring activity," Faramir said diplomatically, valiantly coming to the King's rescue. "Sometimes it's just something grown-ups do when they love each other very much."
"So do you wrestle with Mother, then?" Elboron piped up. Poor Faramir pinched the bridge of his nose, evidently wishing he had not spoken.
"And do you wrestle with Aunt Faelwen?" Morwen asked Haldir, who looked like he would rather face a brigade of orcs than answer that question. "But Uncle Elladan and Uncle Elrohir are not married, so do not they have anyone to wrestle with?"
Faelwen was very quickly losing her fight to hold her laughter in and Legolas looked like he was in danger of cracking a rib; she'd never seen his face so red.
"Right!" said Elladan rather desperately, leaping to his feet. "Who wants to come and have a snowball fight in the courtyard with Elrohir and I?"
Successfully distracted, the children all noisily volunteered and followed the dark haired twins out of the room to get wrapped up against the cold. The second the door closed, Faelwen sat back in her seat and laughed and laughed. Over by the window, Legolas was convulsed, tears of mirth running down his cheeks while Gimli's deep hearty chuckles filled the room.
"I'm sorry, my friend!" Legolas gasped out, as Aragorn glared at him all the harder and poor Arwen blushed violently. "But your face when Morwen asked you! You looked…" But he was unable to finish his sentence as his peals of laughter robbed him of speech.
"Do not look to me for pity," Haldir grinned, recovering his humour now that he was not being asked about his athletic activities. "I remember how you announced to all of Elrond's halls that I had been kissing Faelwen on the archery fields when you were a child. I consider you well paid out!"
"Just make sure you lock your doors from now on, brother," Faelwen giggled. "And then you may 'wrestle' in peace!"
Later that evening as they day drew to a close, the company sat by the fires in the King's great halls, sharing wine and companionable conversation. The children, who the twins had thoroughly tired out with rowdy games in the snow, had forgotten all about the amusements of the morning and were one by one losing their battle against drowsiness. Silivren was the first to go, little face buried in Faelwen's shoulder and her arms tightly wound around her aunt's neck. Morwen was not far behind, sound asleep in Elladan's arms while Merelin was nodding at his side.
"It's all right," Faelwen told Arwen when she came to take the youngest three up to bed. "We can take them up; you stay here with your guests. Come on Merelin, bed time."
She made her way out of the hall, Silivren in one arm and Merelin holding onto her hand, while Elladan followed close behind with Morwen. It took no time at all to get the little ones changed into nightclothes and tucked up in bed once they'd reached their chambers.
"Can we practice dancing tomorrow with you?" Merelin asked, as Faelwen tucked her in.
"Of course we can," Faelwen told her with a smile. "Goodnight sweetheart, sleep well."
Elladan, having settled Morwen, met her in the corridor. "With any luck, they shall be too exhausted to go wandering about tonight," he smiled. Something in Faelwen's expression made him pause. "What is the matter?"
"Nothing," Faelwen said mildly, but her eyes had gone melancholy. "I'm just….very glad we chose to stay and not to sail with Ada. Imagine all we would have lost out on if we had not known the children!"
It was a mortal saying that 'time passed swiftest when one was content' and such proved to be all too true. Years blurred into decades, the royal children growing into fine young men and women as Arda thrived in its hard won peace.
Each year, more and more elves took the decision to sail. Thranduil made the decision to leave about twenty years after Elrond and Galadriel had gone, only after Legolas promised he would sail with Elrond's children when the time came. Faelwen's family from Mirkwood went a few years after that and it seemed that the elven realms were fast becoming deserted.
Faelwen began to view the coming of each new year with trepidation. Aragorn and Arwen were still hale and well, but the tell-tale signs of age began to show more prominently on her brother now. His hair went grey; first at the temples and then all over. His frame grew thinner and his movements became a little slower. Every time she noticed a change in him, it began to hurt a little more.
The same signs could be seen on all their mortal friends; the brave halflings who journeyed to Gondor fairly regularly were also grown old and grey. Gimili's beard turned the colour of iron, though he was a gruff and alert as ever.
Faelwen treasured every interaction with her beloved siblings and mortal friends and hoarded the memories away like a miser, knowing that time was no longer a friend, but a grim and silent foe.