Chapter 46: What Do You See On The Horizon?
Author's Note: A full first draft of this work has been completed! Expect 51 chapters (as FF counts them), including the 'bonus' material this week, (next week 'two' will be posted, also including a short one), plus Author's note.
(~***~)
December into January
To say that Angharad had been surprised when Thranduil snapped at her would be an understatement. As much as Legolas tried to draw her in to the evening activities with Abel and Ginnar, she kept glancing over to watch her mother speaking with her grandfather patiently until the haunted expression that had overtaken his face began to ease.
"He did not mean it, Angharad," Legolas told her, finally taking her aside. "He saw terrible things in these lands. It is painful a reminder to be here again – like it was for you when you were first at sea with us."
"Were you there?" she asked. All their family stories ran together for her sometimes. There was one legend after another, all mashed together sometimes in one great sense of awe over the fierceness of her sires.
"No, he was here with his father long before I was born," Legolas told her.
"But you have been here, too. Later, with Gimli and Aragorn," she said, trying to organize her thoughts. "You are not upset."
"I am not exactly pleased to be here either," Legolas admitted. "But I also spent many years helping to heal the earth in Ithilien. I am glad to know that that work has continued deeper into these lands. Let it go, Angharad. He may apologize to you later, but for now, it is his turn to face his ghosts. That is something you should be able to understand now, I think."
She could understand. When Lossrilleth had finally coaxed Thranduil to rejoin the group, Angharad tentatively offered him some food. She was relieved when he'd given her a small, tired-looking smile.
But it got her thinking.
Before long they left the Sea of Nurn behind and were making their way to the Anduin on the Poros, which had been converted into a widened commercial waterway. On an evening shortly before they were expecting to pass out of the Poros, the adults sent the children down to the water so they could focus on making plans. Legolas and Lossrilleth would be making a trip into Dol Amroth soon to purchase supplies for Abel and Ginnar's trek to Ered Nimrais. After much discussion about what was known about the kidnapping issue as it currently stood, Abel had settled on their trying to stay in the mountains, away from people, as much as possible. They would have to carry as much food as they could with them.
Angharad and Ginnar stood by an eddy and tried skipping stones, mostly quiet. They'd avoided talking about parting, mostly. Angharad had been trying to do as her mother suggested and focus on enjoying Ginnar's company as much as she could. But as she listened to her parents speak with Abel about what he would need to see them through a long trek, avoiding numerous dangers, she couldn't help herself anymore.
"Are you scared, Ginnar?" she asked. Ginnar shrugged. Angharad put a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some comfort.
The young dwarf let out a loud breath. "What if we get all the way home and no one is there? Abel says we would continue on to Erebor. I have never been there. We might never know what happened to my family."
"I do not know," Angharad admitted. She tried to imagine it – arriving in Valinor to find it empty. She couldn't.
"I want to help put an end to this," Ginnar told her, turning to face his comrade. He finally understood how Angharad had felt back in the Hidden Village, when she'd wanted so badly to contribute to the cause.
"I want us to be free people again. Maybe this is how I can keep my promise to Xiaoqing."
"I wish I could help you," Angharad told him.
"I just wish you could meet Amad," Ginnar said. "She would like you, I know it."
"I would like to try one of these great embraces you go on about," Angharad told him with a twisted smile. Ginnar chuckled and looked her over. She looked lower than he'd seen her in a long time. Like the fire had gone out of her.
"What will you do?" Ginnar asked her.
"I do not know. There is not much to do in Valinor. It did not feel like too little, before…" she let her thoughts trail off. "I do not know how I will ever keep my promise to Xiaoqing. We are… finished."
"How can you be finished? You are not even grown yet," Ginnar asked.
Angharad frowned deeply. She had no answer. "Our lives will go on. But it does not seem like anything we do matters anymore. Grandfather keeps encouraging me to practice what I learned on the mountain. But I do not see the point. It was all for nothing," she concluded.
"Children, come join us," Lossrilleth interrupted. She had been trying to keep one eye on the children while Legolas, Thranduil, and Abel strategized a long trek through inhospitable territory. She'd tuned in to the children's conversation and decided this could not wait.
"Forgive me, my lords, but I think we will need to discuss supplies later. Something else needs our attention.
"Be careful what you wish for. Even the peace of the Blessed Lands could be broken someday," Ginnar told Angharad as they turned to do as Lossrilleth asked. "You would not wish our troubles on your people just so you have something to do, would you?"
"No, that is not what I mean," Angharad said, glancing at her mother, who was looking at her with concern.
"It is just… all of this is going on without us. It is not fair. You both got to help fight the evils of your ages," she said, gesturing towards Legolas and Thranduil as she approached them.
If the warriors had been confused about why Lossrilleth had stopped them short, they knew now.
"It is hard, leaving like this," Legolas agreed with his daughter, offering her to come sit with him. "I would like to see this practice stamped out as much as you would. But it is not our choice. Our place is in Valinor now. These lands belong to mortals, and mortals must tend to them."
Angharad was starting to edge closer to tears. Her mother had a hunch why.
"That is not all that bothers me," Lossrilleth said. "I wish we could see Ginnar and Abel home. To know that they are safe." Angharad nodded and leaned against Legolas, keeping her eyes down. She had started to poke at a stick with her foot.
"What about you, Ginnar? What is on your mind now that we are parting?" Lossrilleth prompted the boy, offering him the seat next to her. Ginnar shrugged.
"It is a sad thing, to part with comrades such as you have been to each other. Any soldier could tell you," Abel commented. He had been trying to connect with the boy more. They'd be each other's only company for a while, and they needed to know they could trust each other. If the elf mother thought getting it all out in the open now might make it easier on the back end, he'd take it.
Ginnar was starting to look as upset as Angharad was. Lossrilleth put a hand on his shoulder.
"What do you hope to do when you go home, Ginnar?" the elf mother asked calmly. Ginnar shrugged again.
"I think your parents will be happy to see that wonderful scroll you brought back. And to hear all about the things you learned in the East. They will be happiest of all just to have you home, of course," she cajoled him.
"The scroll will be good," Ginnar admitted. "I will tell them about all of you. About everything that has happened." He sat up straighter.
"I want to write to the dwarfs in Erebor to take care of your Eaben Masterson," he growled.
Thranduil raised his eyebrows. "I would have liked to … speak… with Masterson again. I rather like the image of him getting a visit from a company of angry dwarfs. He deserves no less," the old king admitted.
"We can do that," Abel told the tall elf. "I do not know if Erebor is any freer than the rest right now, but no one has any sympathy for men who sell children these days. If they can, they will put an end to his evil."
"Then you have my thanks," Thranduil said politely.
"What else, Ginnar? You will need to choose a guild soon, if I understand your traditions correctly. Do you know what you might choose?" Lossrilleth prompted him further.
"I do not know yet. I liked everything. I would like to work with jade more. But I liked fixing the paintings in the shrine. Oh, I want to make a new painting, of all of you, and take down that old one. It does not look like you at all," he said, turning to Legolas.
The elf chuckled. Gimli had not been a painter, but he'd insisted on making the portrait himself. "Keep the old with the new, if you will. But if you can render a better likeness that would be good," he said warmly. "I hope when you think of us you know that we will be wishing you well, even if it is from far away."
"Elves' memories do not fade, Ginnar. We will remember you forever. Just as you are now. Young and clever with your whole life before you," Lossrilleth promised.
Ginnar leaned against Lossrilleth, who gave him a tight squeeze.
"What about you, Angharad?" Legolas asked, looking down at his daughter. "What do you want to do when we get to Valinor?"
"I do not know," she replied. "The things I used to think were important feel silly now. What is there to do in Valinor that matters?"
"Do you really think fighting is the only thing that matters?" Legolas asked her.
"No, I did not say that. I just wish I could help," she complained. "I do not like to think of Ginnar and his family hiding from snatchers forever."
"We will do our best to turn this around, girl," Abel reassured her. "The funds you have given us will help more than you may think. I think it is high time we make some political moves. They will all require money."
The old dwarf looked at the young elf and felt a stab of pity looking at her small, unhappy face.
"Do not fail to live your life because of this, Angharad," he said kindly. "Moping in the Undying Lands will not help us either. You might as well focus on what you can do. If everything is safe there, then you are lucky. We all hope to live in such an age."
"You can still study the fighting arts if you wish to, iell nin," Legolas cajoled her. "I know many people who would be happy to practice with you. You are right that it is too much the same sometimes. Perhaps we could organize some sparring matches – for practice in case we need it someday, but it could also be enjoyable to get our blood moving again."
Angharad turned her gaze up at his face, looking a little interested, if still subdued.
"Another decade of practice and you will be a holy terror," Ginnar said, starting to warm up to imagining their futures. "I think I will picture you that way. Taking a – what was the thing? A beast quest? In the deep, dark wilds of Aman. Plenty of dangers there, I would wager."
Angharad smiled despite herself. "Going after the questing beast? I suppose I could do that. But I could not tell anyone about it later," she reminded him.
"It would be fine. You can speak with your fists. No one would miss your annoying voice if you lost it," Ginnar started teasing her. "Ooooh, I shall have nothing to do in Valinor but wear a fancy dress and go to a party."
"Hey," Angharad said, but he was making a joking face at her, so she knew he didn't mean it. She'd long since learned the only thing to do was jibe back. "I will think of you like this. Making personal jests about your best friends in the middle of terrible perils. But with a great, big beard," she told him.
Ginnar shrugged and grinned at her. "Is that supposed to be insulting? That is just being a dwarf." Abel chuckled.
Angharad rolled her eyes, then got quiet again. "I will think of you making… so many beautiful things. Maybe you will impress the Princess of Gondor with all your knowledge about Eastern arts and make a friend for the dwarfs," she suggested.
Ginnar perked up. "There could be something to that. There has been more trade with the East lately. Maybe you will be alright at chess one day. Mahal knows you are terrible at it now."
"Hey!" Angharad said, exasperated. "Just because you tricked my grandfather one time does not make you a master chess player."
Ginnar snickered at her.
"You watch, I will beat him one day. Even if it takes a thousand years," she said proudly.
"It is good that you will have a thousand years. It might take you that long," Ginnar taunted her.
"You - !" she gasped. Ginnar started laughing harder at the affronted look on her face.
"You all tell everyone in Valinor that she lost a bet to a dwarf if she does not beat Lord Thranduil at chess at least once within one thousand years," he told the adult elves with a grin.
"Perhaps we should just promise to harass her with insults in your memory for all the days of Arda," Thranduil suggested dryly.
"Grandfather!" Angharad shrieked. "You would not."
"Oh, not every day. I doubt any of you could come up with that many good insults," Abel added sagely. "Just on his birthday. Insults on his birthday for all eternity."
"I am sorry, iell nin. I do not think I can refuse such a request to keep the memory of a friend alive," Lossrilleth said in mock seriousness. "It shall have to be insults on Ginnar's birthday from now on."
"Well," Angharad said, sitting up tall and trying to look proud like her grandfather did. "Then I shall just have to insult you back on Ginnar's birthday, from now until the Second Song."
"I do not know how this will go over in Valinor," Legolas said with chagrin.
"How would you know, ada? You are not from Valinor. What kind of manners did you learn anyway, in the dirty old forest where you grew up?" she huffed, feeling proud of herself. She'd managed to land a hit on both Legolas and Thranduil on that one.
"The kind he has clearly taught to you," Thranduil replied with a dignified look to show he didn't care.
"I had a good teacher myself," Legolas said, nodding to Thranduil as though in appreciation.
Lossrilleth and the dwarfs were all snickering as they watched the three elves banter. Still, Lossrilleth snuck a hand over to squeeze Ginnar's. Legolas still had a hand on Angharad's back.
Between the volleys, the parents caught each other's eyes. Legolas gave her a grateful nod and a nudge. She returned his touch and small smile.
Later that night, Legolas and Lossrilleth sat together beside the dying embers of the fire, keeping the watch while the others rested.
"That was a good idea. You are good at this, have I told you?" Legolas told her, but she couldn't bring herself to smile.
Did you hear what she said? About being finished? Having nothing to do with her life? Lossrilleth thought to Legolas, her words colored with concern.
Legolas shrugged helplessly, but he nodded. He had felt the same way before his wife had come along. But to hear it from a child?
Is it … irresponsible to have more elf children? Lossrilleth asked, feeling upset. I always thought we would have a few.
Legolas put an arm around her and kissed her cheek. I do not know. It is not something I could answer with everything happening now. Let us get home safe, help her heal, and if you ever feel the child hunger again, we can speak about it then.
Lossrilleth nodded, still feeling sad and guilty. She'd chosen this long life. Her child hadn't been given a choice to join the elves in a winter that would last until the end of the world.
Meleth, we have other worries. I am concerned about Abel and Ginnar trekking across the mountains alone. They need all the help they can get. I have wondered… would you give them your weapon? Legolas asked, redirecting her to the more pressing issues at hand.
Lossrilleth looked at Legolas in surprise. She hadn't considered this.
The dwarfs would be too good at making better firearms. It could improve the technology more quickly. I promise you that is not a good thing, she protested.
They have pressing problems now. The guns are already spreading among the humans. Surely they will learn about them soon anyway? And they will need to know to keep themselves safe, Legolas argued.
What good did it do us anyway? It is too unwieldy, Lossrilleth obfuscated.
They are more likely to have to defend a keep. That is when it would be most useful, Legolas pointed out.
Lossrilleth bent over, pressing her face against her thighs and wrapped her arms around her knees. She did not want to be a part of spreading guns. But it was too late to claim she refused to touch them. She wanted to throw it away.
Meleth, Legolas thought, rubbing her back and giving her his sympathy. But he didn't back off the idea, even though it upset her. That told her something. She sat back up and looked him squarely in the face.
Is that truly your counsel? With all you have seen in all your years, and all I have told you? she asked, searching his eyes.
It is. The dwarfs are under siege from many fronts. These new weapons will only add to their difficulty. Knowing about them before they strike could make all the difference. It did for us, I would note. My father is still alive because you knew them when you saw them. Give Abel and Ginnar what warnings you can. Ginnar is a smart lad, he will listen to you. Do not deny them this advantage just so you can say you kept your hands clean, Lossrilleth. They still will not be clean. Legolas told her seriously.
Alright, she agreed uncomfortably. I trust you. I will show Abel and Ginnar how to use it and send it with them.
It is the right thing today. We cannot make our decisions for every moment that may or may not come to pass one day, he reassured her.
It is necessary to balance the needs of today and tomorrow in making important decisions, she retorted. It is the failure to do so that destroyed my world.
Legolas nodded, but also shrugged. Her concern did not change his mind. It was not a singular magic ring – it was one weapon among many already being used in the conflicts of the day. Her throwing it away would not stop the rise of this evil, but giving it to the dwarfs might help them prepare for it.
I cannot wait for this to be over, Lossrilleth told him. I know it will not be over for them. But since we cannot help, watching in horror helps no one. My heart is too sore.
I know, Legolas agreed. He offered her his arm again and she leaned against him gratefully. He kissed her forehead and threaded his fingers through hers. I know.
(~***~)
February
Angharad helped pack the boat, as she had every morning for months, but nothing felt real. Ginnar and Abel's things were not going in the boat. Instead, the dwarfs' packs sat on the rocky beach, waiting for their bearers.
How had the time gone so quickly? It felt like only yesterday that they'd been joking about insults and trying to come up with hopeful pictures for each other's futures on the banks of the Poros.
But it had gone so quickly. There had been the day Lossrilleth had shown the dwarfs how to use the fire weapon, though Angharad thought her mother had looked unhappy the whole time. Lossrilleth had kept glancing at Legolas, who nodded to her in affirmation more than once. When she finally handed the little bag with the 'pistol' and all its accessories over to Abel, she had kneeled to look both dwarfs in the eyes, more serious than Angharad had ever seen her mother.
"There is much I cannot tell you. But know this: there is no weapon you can make that will not be turned back on your own people someday. Secrets never last. If you make this stronger and faster, you must be prepared to watch your children looking down the barrel of your improvements one day."
Abel had just raised an eyebrow at her, but Ginnar's eyes had wandered as he thought, until he finally looked Lossrilleth in the eye and nodded seriously.
Lossrilleth and Legolas had spoken to both children frequently as their ship passed into the Anduin, helping them name their sadness, their fears, and their hopes and love for each other. With Lossrilleth's encouragement, Abel and Ginnar had been spending hours together fishing out of the dinghy that trailed behind the ship, just talking. When Angharad listened to them, she thought they were sounding comfortable in each other's company. When she asked Ginnar what he thought of Abel, he'd sounded confident in the older dwarf: he was smart, even if the best days of his youth were spent. It made her feel just a little bit better.
Then they'd reached the Bay of Belfalas, tying up in a remote spot two day's walk from Dol Amroth. Her grandfather had put a reassuring hand on Angharad's shoulder as they watched her parents ford through the woods, wearing their 'Northern' disguises once more. They'd returned partway through the fifth day bearing packs filled with the things Abel had requested – travel food, cloaks, new boots for Ginnar, who had grown enough his were pinching him, a bow and quiver, snares, money…
Then last night they had all stayed up around the fire, not wanting to go to sleep. They'd talked until Ginnar and Abel's eyes both drooped and their voices sounded sleepy. Lossrilleth encouraged them both to go to bed, just for a few hours. Ginnar hadn't wanted to, but neither could he stay awake. He'd finally lain down to a fitful sleep.
"Angharad, can you rest? You would feel better for it," Legolas suggested kindly. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
"Then come sit, my dear," Lossrilleth encouraged her. Angharad scooted over to be closer to her parents. Lossrilleth pulled her daughter right into her lap and rubbed her back. Legolas sat beside them, putting an arm around them both. Angharad couldn't think of anything to say. She'd been spilling her thoughts to them both for weeks. She curled herself into a ball in her mother's arms and tried to let the warmth of her parents' bodies and spirits seep into her, but she felt numb.
And now it was morning. The boat was packed. The dwarfs' things were ready.
"It is time now," Thranduil told the somber, aching group as gently as he could manage.
"These are for your parents," Legolas told Ginnar, handing him three letters. Lossrilleth's was filled with all her warmth and hope for Ginnar and his family. Legolas expressed his gratitude for Ginnar's friendship with his daughter, his longstanding admiration for their people, and his fervent wish that they would be well. Thranduil sent a teacherly assessment of the strengths he'd observed in Ginnar, and some thoughts on how they might improve their situation. He had included letters of introduction to be sent to Farren and Amity, should the dwarfs need to make inroads in Minas Tirith. And he had also echoed Ginnar's suggestion that the dwarfs of Erebor may wish to do something about Eaben Masterson, a known child seller.
There was a fourth letter that was just for him, from Angharad. He gave one back, just for her.
"Thank you," Ginnar told the elves.
"It has been our pleasure to help you, Ginnar," Legolas told him sincerely.
"And thank you," Lossrilleth told Abel, who bowed to her in response.
"We will find our way," Abel told the elves. "We will keep out of the humans' way as much as we can. The mountains are a good place for us. We will follow the ranges home."
Lossrilleth knelt and offered Ginnar a final embrace. He took it, squeezing her as tightly as he could, and she right back.
"Nine out of ten," the boy said fondly. "You are stronger than you look, but never like a dwarf mam."
"An embrace should not be judged by strength of arms, boy, but by strength of heart. And we both know by that measure this kind lady has never given you an embrace that was less than perfect," Abel told the boy, bumping him with his elbow.
Lossrilleth bowed to Abel as Ginnar nodded enthusiastically.
Legolas pushed Angharad towards Ginnar. They stood before each other a little awkwardly. What could they say? The moment was too big, and yet too small.
"Goodbye," Angharad told him quietly. "I hope you have a good life."
"You, too," Ginnar told her, his eyebrows knit tight together. "Namarië, mellon nin."
He offered her a hug of her own, which she leaned down to return. She knew the smell that was him, under the salt and smoke from their fire. He felt so solid. So real. So Ginnar. She couldn't fathom that she'd never see him again.
"Namarië," the other elves echoed.
Angharad followed her parents onto the ship. She watched the beach recede as they rowed out into the bay, then hoisted the sail. Ginnar watched them go until he could see them no more. Then he and Abel donned their packs and turned, starting the next phase of their journey, and of their lives. Angharad watched their backs until they disappeared from view.
Legolas and Lossrilleth kept a careful eye on her even though they both had practical tasks they needed to attend to. They'd all agreed to try to retrace their steps to find the entrance to the Straight Road. But since they'd let the wind and tides take them where they would when they arrived, they now had to cut directly against the forces of nature. Tacking back and forth and staying on course was a challenge. The fact that it was colder and windier in winter than it had been in summer when they arrived did not help as they pushed their ship, which was honestly small to brave such a wide ocean, forward and towards their home.
When he could no longer see the dwarfs on the shore, but Angharad still stood looking back where'd the come from, feeling numb and confused, Legolas finished what he was doing and went over to her.
"Come, nettë," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It is time to look West again. Will you help me with this sail?"
She took a deep breath and pried her eyes away from the beach they'd left behind.
"Yes, ada, I will help," she replied. He squeezed her shoulder and gave her a kind smile. Then they turned and did not look back again.
(~***~)
What had taken them five days going East took them twice as long going West. Winter rains battered them in their open boat, which rose and fell sickeningly on the great winter swells. It was so loud that they had to resort to the sign language at times.
More than once they saw a threatening storm brewing to the North, lightning flashing between dark clouds that rose for miles. As much as she tried to keep herself steady, Lossrilleth would inevitably find herself dry mouthed and shaky. But her family was familiar with this sensitivity by now, and they all found small ways to offer her reassurance if they crossed her path on their way to their next task. Each time they escaped the worst of it, although there was a solid week during which every one of them was drenched without reprieve.
Finally, on a day when the first wisps of another black cloud had begun to gather, they broke apart suddenly and the clear, golden light that pervaded Valinor shone down upon them. All four elves' hearts filled with relief as the din of the Sundering Seas quieted, then quieted further, as their little ship began to rise, and the world fell away until there was nothing about them but stillness and white light.
(~***~)