Chapter 50: Begin Again

C/W: pregnancy; mortality (VERY SAD IMO)

(~***~)

When Angharad had walked away from their family talan on the day she'd separated from her parents, Legolas and Lossrilleth watched her walk down the forest path until she disappeared from view.

"There she goes," Lossrilleth said, her heart full.

"Yes, she is doing so well now," Legolas agreed, feeling a touch of sadness.

"How are you?" his wife asked him. "You have dreaded this."

But Legolas shook his head and shared a small smile. "It is so different, to do this when she is ready."

"She will be moving into the Woodland Hall next," Lossrilleth said with a sigh.

"It will be good for her. I am glad she has friends. That suite of young ladies is going to get in to all sorts of good trouble, I would bet," Legolas said warmly.

"Oh, they will," Lossrilleth agreed. "She and that friend of hers are quite fond of each other." The young mother chuckled.

"It could be good for us, too. We have not had many opportunities for privacy these last years. It has been a while," Legolas commented smoothly, sliding behind his wife to wrap her in his arms and let her feel what that thought did to him.

"Oh!" Lossrilleth giggled. "It has not been so long. She stayed with her friends overnight not ten days ago."

"Exactly. An eternity," her husband replied.

"I am aware that our families blame me for our unusual predilections as a couple, but you know, you have grown quite an appetite of your own, sir," she teased him.

"I have a lady with a scandalous past to please," he whispered to her. "And no reason tonight to keep quiet about it."

He brushed her hair gently away from the back of her neck to place a soft kiss there, making her shiver.

(~***~)

Angharad's parents continued to watch her transformation happily. It was like watching a butterfly, finally emerging from its cocoon, then fanning the blood into its wings before its first flight.

And then one morning after the spring equinox they met her in the dining hall soaring with enthusiasm.

"What is this?" Lossrilleth asked in surprise when she found her daughter with Thranduil and his wife - a handful of maps spread all over the table.

"We are going out to look for the questing beast!" Angharad crowed. "It took some convincing of these two monuments, but I have finally pried them away from their pedestals and convinced them to come with us. All six of us!" she said gesturing to the group of young elves she spent most of her time with now.

"Is that so?" Legolas said, feeling surprised. "That should be an enjoyable adventure."

He'd been hoping that maybe she would ask him and Lossrilleth along as well, but as breakfast wore on it appeared she would not. His heart fell that she did not want to be with them for her first journey since they'd returned.

"Shh, meleth, let it be," Lossrilleth whispered to him, getting the feeling he might suggest it himself soon. She understood that sore feeling that was plaguing him. Still.

"She is an adolescent. She needs to do some flying before she makes her way back home. So long as she is being safe, I think we should let her now. And we both know your parents will keep that rabble in line if anything gets tricky. It is only Southern Aman. How many times have we traveled those lands? What is the worst thing we encountered? Not counting anything past the gate…"

So he let it be. It gave he and Lossrilleth a good few months to adjust to it just being themselves in their talan and in their souls.

When the troupe came home, quite a bit later than anyone had expected, the young elves were blazing with excitement. Thranduil looked deeply perplexed, although he was clearly quite fond of the precocious young people he'd just spent months in the wild with, trying to keep them from doing anything too stupid.

"You will not believe what we have seen!" Angharad told her parents triumphantly.

"We spoke with faeries!" her best friend piped up, speaking as if she still could not believe it.

"King Oberon and Queen Titania were quite impressed with our Lord and Lady's pedigrees," one of the young ellyn teased. "Should we ever need to negotiate with the fair folk, I think the elves would be well served to send the Elvenking and Elvenqueen of Endorë's old forest in the delegation."

Thranduil grimaced slightly. He had an uncomfortable feeling he and his wife might very well be recruited as ambassadors between their peoples in years to come. The young elves had all been quite enamored with the winged people, but he and his wife had had some private conversations and had a few mild concerns about the faeries' potential to cause havoc for the elves. And it was true, the two former rulers had been able to strike a good chord with the miniscule King and Queen. He supposed, on balance, having to engage in a few, hopefully friendly, political chats with the tiny rulers would not be so bad. They'd managed to get a few practical tips on corralling the garden gnomes, as it were.

Angharad danced up to her parents, grinning and full of energy. She gave them an enthusiastic spirit greeting, followed by a quick hug for her mother and a clap on the shoulder for her father.

"That is not even the start of it," she told them. Her friends were buzzing behind her.

"It is true," Legolas's mother said, greeting her son and daughter-in-law politely. "It is not even the beginning. In fact, I have already sent out word to some elves from other parts of Valinor. There are many who should know what we have learned."

The travelers let that be their only hint until important people from all over the elven settlements had arrived for an impromptu dinner presentation. They were all aghast to learn that the group had encountered not only faeries, but a small herd of fawns living deep in a ferny wood. And what was more, they had gathered irrefutable proof that their continent, Aman, had gotten bigger. A lot bigger. They had trekked thirty leagues past the place that the old map had marked as the Western coast of the landmass, climbed to the top of a tall hill, and still had not been able to see the ocean. Thranduil had insisted that they go home to share this information before going any further. The news swept through Valinor like wildfire.

Angharad had gone back to her parents' talan that night and talked to them without ceasing. (There was so much she would have to tell Ginnar in the spring!)

"When we go back out there, I want to bring paper. I want to make records of all the new people that we do not know yet. And the plants! Well, my friend really likes the plants a bit more than me, but still. I need to learn how to draw! But I do not only want to draw them, I want to speak with them. I want to observe them and understand who all of our new neighbors are. New neighbors! It is all new!" she gushed.

"It sounds as though you have decided to become a biologist," Lossrilleth commented, happily watching her daughter brimming with life.

"What is that?" Angharad asked.

"A person who studies the forms in which life presents itself," her mother explained.

"Yes, exactly! All the new forms of life!" Angharad almost shouted.

"I am sure there is some discipline to it. Do you know anyone who keeps field journals?" her mother asked Legolas.

"There are a few I can think of here in the Silvan Quarter, but I do not know them well. Elrond or Mithrandir certainly would know people. I would not be surprised if Elrond keeps healing notes and plant journals himself," Legolas replied.

"You ought to learn how to keep maps properly as well, if this is what you want to dedicate yourself to," Lossrilleth told her daughter. "I imagine there will be a great deal of interest in sending out scouting parties now. We should see where we are in this great, new world."

"Certainly," Angharad agreed. "We all want to go out again, soon – the six of us. We need to prepare for a longer time away from the settlements this time, so we do not have to run back."

"We could help with that. We mapped much of Aman before you were born. I know you would prefer to be with your friends, Angharad, but I must admit I am getting curious now, too," Legolas said cautiously. "I hope we will still see you in the next hundred years, after all. In any case, since you are all under a hundred, I think all of us parents are likely to insist that you have company, at least for a while."

"I could be up for another quest, if you would have us," Lossrilleth agreed gently.

"Oh, well. Why not? It is exciting, Adar!" Angharad stumbled, then caught herself.

It was fair enough, she reasoned. She imagined her friends might protest, but Angharad knew better than any of them that journeys could get dangerous quickly. Her parents were probably right that they should bring others with more experience, at least for now.

"It is exciting," Legolas agreed happily. "A whole new world! Who would have thought?"

Lossrilleth looked out the window at the stars as her loved ones chattered and began making plans. Thank you, she prayed. The elves finally had room to grow.

(~***~)

Two Hundred Twenty-Eight Years Later

The years had rolled by quickly, full of excitement. Angharad and her friends had been in the thick of it all. She knew faeries, fawns, selkies and something a bit like Xiaoqing's demon people all over Aman. After ninety years of poking around here and there, exploring the expanded territory of their realm, she and her closest companions (half of them married to each other now) had declared that they would set out to find the Western edge of new Aman and would not return until they did. It had made her father nervous, but she wasn't a child anymore.

They'd returned more than five years later, for they'd taken their time to explore the land when they felt they could. From the Eastern shore to the Western one, the young elves had estimated a distance of 1,400 leagues. Aman had expanded over six times in width – and no one had yet tried traveling from North to South. In this vast land were many beautiful forests, rivers, plains, and mountains, each with its own character. The animals and plants were a little different everywhere they went. Their home was rich with life.

She'd had to make use of her martial skills more than a handful of times, as there were aggressive bears, wolves, and even a few small tribes of an incredible race of people on the plains in the center of the continent whose bodies were those of horses below the waist, and of men above! Angharad was itching for a new expedition for the specific purpose of studying the centaurs, but it did require some caution. They were fierce people and very territorial. She hadn't been able to get any of them interested in speaking with her (yet). They'd chased her away with bows and ash staves when she'd tried.

The elves of Valinor had looked cautiously to the Valar to ask if these lands were open to new settlements, and had been delighted to learn that they were, although they were cautioned against encroaching on places that were already claimed. One new city had sprung up West of Valinor already. Angharad imagined there would be more in the millennia to come – subject to some bounds they'd already begun to negotiate with the other people who lived in this land.

The fawns were shy, and not really interested in interacting with the elves. Angharad had made inroads with a few so far, by being very gentle and patient. She wanted to learn more from them still. Nevertheless, she'd manage to speak with them about protecting a territory for their use, to avoid any unpleasant misunderstandings. She reported her subjects' preferences on that point to the elves and – eventually – a generous area had been marked out for no further development, and only careful travel, at least until the elusive people could be spoken to a bit more.

The selkies were just tricksters – some with a nasty streak. Whenever she was home, Angharad signed up for turns doing her duty at the mostly boring, and occasionally dramatic, job of keeping the beach watch. (She could say now that she had had occasion to punch a seal and felt no remorse about it whatsoever.)

Thranduil had had a hand in relations with other peoples as well, for the faeries were quite accepting of him as an ambassador. There were moments in his conversations with King Oberon when Thranduil would glance down and be surprised that the regal creature he was parlaying with was only ten inches tall. Still, the faeries had an army, which could fly. It would be better for everyone if the elves and faeries did not become hostile neighbors.

When he wasn't dealing with the faeries, Thranduil was busy with his grandchildren. Two of his younger sons and his daughter had married by this time. Both sons had children of their own now. Thranduil indulged them exorbitantly in their youths. Discipline was up to their parents, not him!

His third son was to be married soon. All four of his boys had been off hunting in Oromë's forest for the last week so his brothers could speak to the betrothed about the connection he would be making soon with his new wife. On their return, Legolas sought Thranduil out.

The two strolled along a private forest path, first speaking about the recent hunting trip. Thranduil could not figure out what his eldest was looking for.

"In truth, father, I am not much help in these discussions about the first time," Legolas reported ruefully. "It was a bit different with Lossrilleth."

"Yes, I know," Thranduil replied calmly. "The memories did not bother you then. Have they become a problem?"

"Oh, hardly. She goes decades without having a thing to say about Terra now. I have never known who those men were and neither she nor I has any desire to discuss it," Legolas told his father.

"It is just that the others speak of easing their wives in, and neither party knowing exactly how it works. It sounds a bit awkward if I am being honest. Our arrangement has not been without its benefits," Legolas commented.

Thranduil nodded. Watching, listening.

"We have been home for two days," Legolas said, beginning to sound cautious. Thranduil waited. Legolas seemed to be thinking.

"She has the child longing again, I can tell. She has for at least a week. But she has not said anything yet," he glanced at his father, looking for a reaction.

Thranduil mulled it over. "That is unusual. You are close. She has fixed the weakness she had in the fëa sense for some time. Can you think of why she would say nothing?"

"I wonder if she wishes to deny it," Legolas admitted.

That got a reaction. Thranduil raised his eyebrows and caught his son's gaze. Elves did not, as a rule, fight the child longing. It was considered a blessing from the One. He watched his son's face, a new surprise dawning over him.

"You doubt it yourself?" he asked. Legolas nodded slowly.

"The last time we spoke of it was that night when Angharad said the elves were finished and there was nothing to do with her life," Legolas told his father, closing his eyes against the sting of that memory. She had been so small, still, and so hopeless.

"We still have all the ages of Arda before us. Lossrilleth has hinted that we should expect that future to be very long still – she saw things when she was unconscious at Temple Mountain that she is physically unable to speak about, but she managed that. Fearfully," Legolas said, his concern beginning to spill out before Thranduil, who he eyed hopefully, but with some reservation.

"The situation has changed somewhat. There is more livable space now. Our children's children will not need to decide whether to become parents solely based on how crowded our cities are. Things are going well – now. But you and I both know that can change. We do not know what the faeries, fawns, or centaurs will mean for us in a hundred years, or a thousand," Legolas explained.

"What I am trying to say is…" he glanced at Thranduil nervously. His father had had a lot of children himself. He did not want to offend him. "What are our responsibilities, when choosing to bring a new soul into this long life?"

Thranduil nodded slowly, looking around the forest as he thought.

"There was a time I might have said I was exhausted of life," Thranduil said slowly. "I have understood why the fate of mortals has been called 'the gift of man'. When the griefs and horrors I had seen, and the long, aimless future before me, robbed me of any sense of hope. But if a way out were offered to me today, I would not take it. I am grateful no one offered me then, or I would not be here now. Did you see your niece the other day?"

Legolas nodded, unable to keep himself from smiling. Thranduil had been in the dining room, pretending he could not see the girl even though she was right in front of him.

"Where is she?" the old king had asked, sounding serious. "I cannot find my granddaughter anywhere!"

"I am right here," she shouted, giggling loudly. She climbed in his lap and patted his face with her small hands. "Grandfather here I am!"

"Who?" Thranduil said beseechingly. "What granddaughter? I have no granddaughter."

She'd cackled and buried her face in his shoulder, pulling on his hair. "It is me! I am your granddaughter. Here I am!"

Everyone around them was glowing and laughing with simple joy watching them.

"I have seen terrible things. I have carried the weight of a nation. They were worth it, to be there for that moment. It was worth watching your daughter come back to life out in the wilds, looking for that ridiculous animal and instead finding that our land had grown. The wonder in her eyes… I have learned more in these later years than I ever thought possible," Thranduil told his son sincerely. "I would face Dagorlad again to protect those moments. I understand why you are asking, but I cannot tell you I regret living. Can you, ion nin? Do you like your life?"

"Well, yes," Legolas admitted.

If he were offered a door out he would not take it either, he reflected. There was his daughter, and his wife. There was this place that had become another home, with a wide family all around him. There was mystery left in Aman and his curiosity for it was not yet quenched. He had been studying biology with his daughter lately. The fawns, especially, caught his attention. He wanted to build on Angharad's successes and earn their trust, those quiet little people who lived beneath the trees. There was so much left to do.

"We are richer when we share the gifts we have been given," Thranduil said. "And so are those we give to. You and Lossrilleth are good parents. We have all seen the fruits of your labors. Angharad could have come back broken, but she is thriving."

"Some of that credit is her own," Legolas retorted. His girl was strong. "Most that I know about being a good parent I learned from Lossrilleth, anyway," he admitted.

"If you have learned from her, that is still to your credit, for you made the effort to try," Thranduil told him.

Legolas had the sense that this was a veiled apology. Lately he had been thinking about how things must have been when his mother died. The more he had thought about it, the more he had realized what an impossible situation Thranduil had been in.

"When Lossrilleth went blank, back at Temple Mountain, it made me consider what I would have done if she had never woken. It would have been unbearable. I do not know how I would overcome such pain to help Angharad. And that is without the weight of a kingdom on my shoulders. It must have been difficult for you, ada. I can see that now," Legolas said.

"I think you would have known how to help your child better than I did when you were small, Legolas. I left your care to your mother, so when I needed to do it myself, I did not know how. That was my own folly," Thranduil admitted. A long pause stretched between them.

"I would like you to know that I tried to go West with you," the old king finally said. Legolas looked at him in surprise – this he had never heard before. "I spoke discretely with my closest advisors, trying to find a way to leave the Silvans with the leadership they needed so we could depart. But the evil of Dol Guldur was already pushing us North, and the Silvans had changed their ways so much once they had a king. I could not find a way to leave them that would not leave me ashamed of abandoning them."

"I asked your mother's mother to care for you, and she did for some time, but she had the sea longing then. Her husband and all her children had departed. She lasted only so long as we remained connected. You were only forty-four. I questioned whether you had been rushed. And then she left, too. I suggested you should go with her, but you refused. Do you remember?"

"Yes," Legolas admitted. "I did not want you to be alone."

Thranduil shook his head ruefully. "It should not have been up to you to care for me."

"It was an impossible situation, in that darkness, I think. I do know that you tried. I went out to our balcony when we were in Eryn Lasgalen with Lossrilleth. I had many good memories on that terrace," Legolas offered kindly.

"You are trying to care for me again, now, I see," Thranduil said with chagrin. "My excuses may be valid, but they do not change how these things hurt you. That is what I have come to see."

Legolas nodded in admission. There was no way to reverse the pain they had both suffered in those dark years. But it could be eased, he thought.

"It is a comfort to me to see everything you give to my daughter," he told his father truthfully. "I used to wonder at moments if you even cared, but I have seen your care clearly since Angharad fell. Not just for me, but for all of us. It has helped."

"That is good to hear. You have a beautiful family, ion nin. I worried when you married Lossrilleth, if I am being honest. When she told us of her past, I had grave doubts, but the deed was already done. She has turned out to be a good elleth for all that there have been adjustments to be made sometimes. I think the passion of mortals is especially good for you, for some reason. To find it in a vessel that will not fade and die on you is a gift," Thranduil mused. He noticed an absentminded smile pass over his son's face.

The two ellyn were quiet for a few minutes as they walked through the woods and Legolas thought. When they reached the end of the path, he turned to Thranduil.

"Thank you, ada. This has helped," he said warmly.

"I am glad," the old king said.

"Time to go home, then," Legolas said with a knowing smile.

"Good luck," Thranduil said dryly. "Not that you two need it. You have had enough practice."

His son snorted and waved him off, heading down the next path home.

Thranduil touched his heart and reached his hand out to his firstborn, wishing all the best to him and his family, for all the days of Arda. Legolas did not see it.

(~***~)

When Legolas arrived home, Lossrilleth was pacing in their common room. She looked up at him guiltily when he arrived.

"I have to speak to you," she said in a rush.

"I know, Lossrilleth," he reassured her, extending a hand to her.

She looked confused. "You know?"

"About the child hunger. And that you have been keeping it to yourself, for now. You have been wondering about the last time we spoke of this, yes? I have as well," he told her kindly, pulling her onto their settee with him.

"I want to do it," he told her, brushing a hand across her face.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her brow furrowed. "I do want to, but I am under a kind of compulsion. I have felt such a thing before, when I chose to let myself fall for you. I encouraged us to rush because I wanted you for my own so badly. Was I wrong, to let it hold sway over me then? I have thought so sometimes. You should have had a good, simple elleth. None of the sorrows you have faced since then would have happened if not for me. If I could not tell then, can I trust myself now?" she asked anxiously.

"Trust yourself then and now," her husband told her. "Let me decide for myself, whether you have been worth a few complexities. My answer is yes, of course. I do not want a good, simple elleth. I never have, or I would have been married millennia ago. I was not an undesirable young elf, as a prince, you know," he teased her a little. She quirked a smile, but her face was still tense, so it looked like a grimace.

"You do not believe me? Then let me ask you for once," Legolas told her. He stopped laughing and leaned close to her, looking right into her eyes.

"Would you take this journey with me again? Would you share this good life we are living with a new soul?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "I would."

He kissed her, running his fingers through her hair. The first time, it had been so exciting, in such a new, young way. So hopeful. A little naïve. This was a different decision that they'd just made. They felt the weight of it, saying yes to life.

"Now?" she asked, running a hand up his side.

"When else?" he replied, leaning to place a kiss on her neck.

(~***~)

Later that night, Legolas rested in bed, curled around Lossrilleth as they waited to see if a child would take the invitation they'd sent forth together. He was sure, though, that it would work. He just felt it deep in his spirit. He welcomed it, warmly and bravely. For the worry he hadn't shared with Thranduil or Lossrilleth was that he couldn't bear it again, to feel that feeling of a vulnerable, incompetent being, who would own his heart, attach itself to the tender bridge between himself and his wife and cling there, aching for support, for half a century.

But he thought about his daughter: how he could not imagine the world without her. What a loss. What a tragedy. And he thought about what his father had said, about facing Dagorlad again just so he would not miss playing with his granddaughter while she was small.

And he thought about his wife, and how the warmth and intelligence she poured into being a mother to his children filled his heart until he thought it could hold no more. He could not guarantee his child a perfect world, or even that nothing would threaten their bond until it was ready to be released freely. But he could promise to be the best and warmest father he could be. And he could say truly that his child would have a good mother. And an extraordinary, resilient sister and a grandfather who'd taken refuge from his demons in the simple warmth of his family.

Lossrilleth could feel the fierce and tender love of her spouse shining on her like a sun. It was so fucking good when it was good, this life. Whatever soul was wandering by now, needing a home in which they felt safe and loved, was welcome to take root in her body and in her spirit, she thought. Eru knew she had needed it.

They drifted into sleep, rousing briefly when they felt the new fëa catch. Legolas squeezed Lossrilleth in his arms. She lifted a hand to his and squeezed back. They rested, warm and happy with their new baby between them, as soft as a dandelion seed resting on their souls.

And Lossrilleth dreamed about her boy.

(~***~)

Angharad sat on the bed in the room everyone called 'hers', although she hadn't been there to use it much lately. Her fans were here, displayed in a glass case her mother had gifted her. But she slept under a bivvy as often as on a mattress and it usually suited her just fine. These last weeks, she'd been glad to have a door.

The equinox had been hard, but it hadn't been a surprise. Ginnar was two hundred eighty-three. He'd lived quite a full life for a dwarf. He'd had a daughter and two sons of his own, and a wife he spoke of with great, gruff affection. He'd had trials and he'd had triumphs. He'd made progress for his people. She was so grateful to have heard about them it made her weep. He'd been her biggest cheerleader in her decision to go on the expedition across the new wilds of Aman. He'd painted centaurs and been told he was an insane dreamer.

But these last decades, he'd become old. Even in their dream, he'd sit heavily on his child's sleeping pallet rather than stand while they talked. His beard and hair were as white as Abel's had once been. His mind wandered sometimes, leading him to ramble, especially the last few years.

She hadn't known how to deal with it. Without saying why, she questioned her parents about elderly mortals they had once loved. Her mother had spoken about her grandmother, who'd come to live in her house when she was on the verge of adulthood. The old woman had dribbled her tea on her shirt and drifted off mid-thought sometimes. She'd slept most of the day. Legolas had remembered the last days with Gimli here in Valinor. They'd been quiet and sometimes thoughtful, when he could gather his thoughts.

"And how do you keep being with someone like that?" Angharad had asked. How do you bear it? She wanted to say. How do you help?

"You just be with them," her mother had said, perplexed. "My father used to sit with my grandmother, even if she nodded off."

"Sometimes I would read to Gimli, or just read quietly beside him. When he felt like talking, I listened. Why are you asking this, iell nin? Are you alright?" Legolas asked Angharad, concerned.

Angharad had waved them off. She was a biologist. She was curious about life. For mortals, death was a part of life.

So that's what she'd been doing, these last years: listening if he felt like talking, even if it got garbled. If he was quiet, she'd talk to him, telling him about her life without expecting that he'd have something to say about it.

This spring he'd lifted his cloudy eyes towards her, squinting. He cleared his throat.

"I think this is the last time, old friend," he'd told her.

"Alright," she'd said more bravely than she felt. "What would you like to do?"

Her friend's eyes wandered for a long minute. "Do you remember?" he began. "Do you remember that first day in the garden, out of the ship? And the first time we had dinner with Li Zicheng? When we arrived at Temple Mountain… when your parents arrived at Temple Mountain!"

"Yes," she'd said looking, for the meaning behind these memories.

Ginnar paused again. "Hope is good," he said finally. "People are good. Mine are all around me now, all the time. Hold on to your people."

"I will," she promised. She let herself ask what she really wanted to know. "Ginnar, are you afraid? Of dying?"

"No," the aged dwarf said. "I am satisfied."

He thought for a while. "You have a lot of life left."

"Yes," Angharad agreed.

"What will you do with it?" he asked.

"Keep learning, I think," Angharad replied. "There is so much life in the world even I do not have time to see it all. And I will help them when I can. There are many lost souls blowing in the wind, as we once were. They all need Brothers and Sisters who will take pity on them."

"That is a good way to spend forever. Take care of that family of yours, too," he mumbled.

Angharad smiled despite herself. "Oh, I do. I will."

The room was starting to get that shimmery look she knew meant that it would fade soon.

"Can I have one of those famous dwarrow embraces?" she asked, her heart in her throat.

Ginnar nodded seriously. He made a little show of getting his arms ready. Angharad leaned in to him and it felt so real. He still smelled like the Ginnar she knew, underneath layers of paint and stone. She could feel his whiskers brush against her cheek as he gave her a hug that still had some strength in it, even if his hands trembled a little. She gave it back, with all the love she could gather.

"Mmmmm, crying over me," he chided her as she backed up, wiping tears from her eyes. "Still, ten out of ten."

"Oh absolutely," she agreed with a surprised laugh that came out more like a gasp.

"Namarië, mellon nin," she said, watching the walls get dim. "You have my love, forever."

"Goodbye Angharad. Maralmizi[1], I love you," he said. And he was gone.

When she'd woken in her bed, Angharad had prayed through her tears to Nienna, who it seemed had some pity for her from time to time.

Please tell me when it is over, if you can. I cannot bear to wait until spring, she asked.

And the call had come, four moons later. Ginnar was gone from Arda, and she remained.

The tears she'd shed… her closest friend had been so concerned she'd finally climbed into Nenloth's bed with her and held her while she sobbed. When she'd finally cried herself hollow, she'd gone to the dwarfs' memorial garden, where Legolas had found her looking lost.

"Thinking about time?" he'd asked gently, sitting beside his daughter and putting an arm over her shoulder. She wasn't allowed to tell about the dreams, so she just nodded. He understood well enough.

And now, this. She could hardly believe it. Seven weeks after that sad whisper in the night, and this. Her parents sat on the edge of her bed, where they'd found her after searching intently, clearly looking to tell her something. They seemed happy and nervous and bursting to speak with her. She'd given her mother a great embrace when she'd sat down next to her on the bed.

"What was that for?" Lossrilleth asked, looking over her daughter, perplexed.

"I love you, that's all," Angharad said, soaking in the vibrancy of their presence. "Both of you," she added, grabbing her father even though hugs always seemed to make him a bit confused for a moment.

"Are you alright?" Legolas asked, getting a little concerned.

"Yes, of course I am alright," Angharad said, trying to let the ache that was Ginnar be there without drowning in it. It wasn't going anywhere. He wouldn't have thanked her for wallowing.

"Now what is it? You clearly came looking for me just to say… something," she said, looking between them, trying to guess what it could be.

They glanced at each other, smiling. Legolas gestured for Lossrilleth to speak.

"We wanted to tell you first," Lossrilleth said happily. "You are going to be a big sister."

Angharad gasped. Seven weeks. What had the Brothers said about the rebirths of mortals? Forty-nine days in the in-between place, give or take. But from what they'd said they would be as likely to believe her new sibling was Ginnar as Eaben or the Collector – or the Prince or a dolphin who'd helped her. There was no way to know. Who knew if what they believed was even real? She knew it was possible on some level: her mother was here, wasn't she?

She refocused on her parents, watching her stunned face hopefully.

"I – I am so surprised!" Angharad said, trying to get her feet under her. "When?"

"In a year," Legolas replied, indulging her although he thought it should be obvious.

A shocked sounding chuckle erupted from his daughter's throat, then she laughed a clear, silver laugh, filled with delight.

"This is exciting!" she finally said, embracing her mother again. "Naneth how do you feel?"

"Oh, he is here," Lossrilleth said, resting a hand on her belly tenderly. "He is so very small right now."

"You cannot know it is a boy already," Legolas said, sounding exasperated.

"I do, though," Lossrilleth said, sounding very sure of herself. It appeared they'd had this argument at least once before.

"Alright you two, let it rest," Angharad teased them. "The two of you are tethered to a delicate little boy now, do not disturb him."

Legolas looked at her, slightly aghast. Lossrilleth snickered joyfully.

(~***~)

Footnotes:

[1] Maralmizi means "I love you" – source is post/129636118364/hi-first-off-thank-you-for-all-your-work-its